The Becket Approval, Falconer Duncan [novels for students TXT] 📗

She reluctantly got to her feet and they walked to the estuary side of the landing stage to look at the ship.

‘That’s the cargo ship?’ she asked.

‘Yep.’

‘The one going to Southampton Docks?’

‘Yep. Except it ain’t,’ he said with a smirk.

Gunnymede arrived at the corner of a building breathing hard and crouched to inspect a wide open space the size of a football field. Several warehouses and pieces of heavy machinery were dotted around. Lights outside warehouse fronts and above signs provided patches of illumination.

He took a sweeping look through his imager and found several figures beyond the far side of the clearing on the top of an elevated road. It was the pipe jetty that ran from the centre of the terminal to the landing stage six hundred metres further on. Gunnymede could make out rifles in the hands of the figures. It certainly required investigating.

He cut directly across the open ground setting off at a brisk walk. He was halfway across when the throaty sound of an engine starting up inside one of the warehouses paused him. A light came on as a vehicle drove out. Gunnymede dropped to a knee, looking for somewhere to head for. There was nowhere nearby and he decided to remain still in the open rather than risk being seen while moving.

It was a forklift truck with a single headlight, two men on it and headed in the same direction as Gunnymede. As it drew parallel, Gunnymede could see one of the men was holding a rifle. The passenger caught sight of him and nudged the driver to make a turn. The forklift swung sharply round and Gunnymede was bathed in its headlight.

Shit!

He started to run. The vehicle followed. Gunnymede changed direction but the driver adjusted. It was getting closer. Gunnymede ran backwards, aimed above the headlight and fired a short burst of bullets that were silent above the sound of the vehicle. The forklift continued to come at him. Gunnymede changed direction but this time the forklift didn’t adjust. As it drove by the men were slumped over the controls.

He expected it to slow to a halt but it continued on at full speed. A swift projection of the vehicle’s route was a sudden cause for concern. It looked like it was heading towards a telegraph pole. Gunnymede concentrated on willing it to miss but it struck the pole with a wallop, snapping it at the base with a heavy crunch that would’ve been heard by those on the pipe jetty. The pole toppled but then stalled, the high tension wires holding it off the ground. But the collision didn’t halt the vehicle. It merely altered its direction.

Gunnymede groaned as he projected its new path. The bloody thing was heading towards a large propane gas container behind a flimsy wire fence. He considered running to it in the hope of stopping it but it quickly became obvious he’d never make it in time.

The forklift ripped through the fence and one of its prongs pierced the tank. Liquid gas burst out as the forklift ground to a halt. And then the really really bad news came. Several of the high tension cables holding up the pole snapped and sparks cascaded as the electrical cables fell across the tank.

You have to be kidding me!

Gunnymede hit the ground flat. The explosion was deafening as the tank blew apart and an intense white flame shot into the night sky, bright enough to be seen from the space station.

Gunnymede hugged the ground as the fiery blast ripped over him followed by pieces of debris dropping all around. When the intensity subsided he looked up to see the forklift consumed by a roaring fire.

He got to his feet and ran hard to get off the open space, ducking amongst a collection of machinery. The explosion would no doubt alert the terminal security who would more than likely contact the emergency services.

So much for sneaking.

Krilov was watching the ship close on the landing stage when the explosion occurred, Jedson and Bethan nearby. They all turned to face the distant boom and see the incandescent plume reach into the night sky.

Krilov shouted for his lieutenant to call the checkpoints and find out what it was.

‘What the bloody hell was that?’ Jedson said as he turned up his police radio. Comments were exchanged between various police teams reporting the distant fireball but no one seemed to know what it was.

Krilov’s lieutenant jogged over with a phone to his ear. The team on the ramp didn’t know what had caused the explosion and he couldn’t get a reply from the men at the gate.

Krilov ordered the ramp team to check it out and barked a command to the others to stay alert. He turned his attention back to the ship but a feeling of concern nibbled at him. Something wasn’t right. The tediously slow process for the vessel to come alongside was suddenly irritating him.

Gunnymede stepped out of his hiding place to take a look towards the pipe jetty. He could see figures moving about but not very clearly. He needed a bigger picture.

He reached behind his neck and pulled a toggle. The cover of the pod dropped away to reveal a drone the size of a dinner plate. Its four small propellers burst into life, automatically unlocking it and it zoomed skyward, ascending to a hundred feet above him where it remained. His flip down screen switched to drone view.

A ball on the end of a cable attached to the drone pack hung over his shoulder. On it was a toggle that altered the drone’s direction. A push brought it into static hover wherever it was and a double push brought it back to its default position above Gunnymede. After some fumbling and direction challenges he managed to send it towards the pipe jetty.