Happy Saturday !

Sorry for this very long delay.

I needed a break and needed to re-charge.

I hope you enjoy this update and will continue

along... xx

Chapter 15

Driving the Train

1816 - Paddington Station - London, UK

Dave Warner sharply tilted his head, popping the tensed muscle in his neck. Military command was adamant that the Special Forces team end this siege. Collateral damage was inevitable. He already knew there were varied wounded receiving care at hospital after they were intercepted by Metro personnel when the train separated. It will be some time before the actual toll of the damages are realized.

"Sir, we are linked onto Captain Harte's frequency."

Warner side-eyed the technician and felt Jason Speers' hard stare. The army had honed his ability to make swift decisions. Every mission carried risks and potential loss of life. This one however, felt like he was carrying far too great a burden. Harte faced imminent contact and so did everyone else inside that carriage. Depot Master Wells nervously nibbled at his thin lips, gulping down his monumental anxiety when Warner waved the headset away and said, "We are not going to abort."

"What?!" Wells sputtered. "You can't be serious Agent Warner."

"Quite serious."

Heads turned and wary eyes shared glances. Dave Warner certainly had everyone's attention in the room and Wells could not hold back speaking up. "What of the passengers, sir? I simply cannot allow….."

Warner's voice rose over top of the plea, "Master Wells, I simply cannot allow the remainder of that train to reach this station. The MoD will destroy the track in order to prevent that from happening regardless, so any bartering on my part is useless."

Wells' mouth twitched until he mustered the courage to say, "Public Relations will….."

"Will what precisely? I should think they would profess sincere gratitude for the lives already saved by the Forces on board." Speers said and sealed his opinion adding, "We do not negotiate with terrorists Master Wells. End of story."

A mobile ringtone broke the uncomfortable silence, and everyone watched Commissioner Braddock answer the call. "Yes. Braddock here." He listened to the caller. "I see." He listened more and continued to listen as his eyes shot to the two MI5 agents. "Do we know the extent of casualties?" he said. "Understood. Thank you for the update. Good bye." He tossed the mobile onto the counter in front of him.

"Spill it," Warner said.

"Coroner has identified the remains of a man found alongside the tracks near Oxfordshire."

"Go on," Speers urged.

"It is the 1L83's driver I'm afraid." Braddock said. Varied gasps erupted and Depot Master Wells paled beyond sickness.

"There is a madman bringing that train in. We must take the track away from him!" Warner said.

"But it will derail!" Wells shouted.

Warner pointed to the large wall clock. "In fourteen minutes, a portion of the track will be gone. Those are the orders. At 1830 the MoD will do just that." Ignoring any further protests from Wells, Warner turned to the communications technician and said, "Do we still have access to SF?"

"Yes sir."

"Connect," Warner said snatching the microphoned headset.

XXXXX

1820 – Undisclosed Location

"Strategy boss?" Spanner asked, winding the repelling rope into a tight coil.

"When all else fails, improvise, eh?" Elvis said adjusting his comms gone awry whilst releasing the connecting bar.

"Best come up with something quick mate," Spanner said, white teeth flashing between his beard.

"I'm workin on it," Elvis said confidently grinning back. The captain's smile faded however when he heard cracking in his earpiece. He pressed the plastic in further and squinted. "Jackson?" Elvis said into comms.

"Negative boss," crackled back at him.

The static became louder and he thought he could hear a voice but it was difficult over the clanking of the train wheels. Further static blended into what sounded like Dave Warner's voice.

"Elvis! Harte do you read me?" the voice said.

"Dave?! Affirmative. Yeah. I read ya." Elvis said, actually shouting over the din of the moving train.

"Elvis. The driver is dead. Copy? The driver is dead. You've got trouble driving that train."

Elvis' face never registered a reaction when he replied, "Copy Dave." Elvis looked at his watch – 1822. "Yeah. He ain't stoppin anytime soon until the track goes. If he stops. It'll be shit tryin to breach 'at steel door to get to him."

All of the operative's comms were linked so Spanner and Jackson heard the exchange.

"Elvis. Duvall will detonate imminently. Do what you can. Do what you do best. Copy?"

"Copy 'at sir. Looks like I ain't gonna be retiring any time soon." Elvis said. "Let's get to work boys!"

XXXXX

1825 – Paddington Station – London, UK

Depot Master Wells hips glanced off of equipment as he made way towards Warner and Speers in an unbridled huff. "See here! Can't they just stop him without destroying the track? Those passengers are in jeopardy!"

Warner narrowed the distance between himself and the Depot Master in two swift strides. "Those passengers are in jeopardy no matter which way you look at it!" Warner said, chest mere millimeters from the other man.

"They will derail!" Wells shouted.

"Or, he'll stop the bloody thing. Unfortunately, the call is his at the moment," Speers said. Wells absorbed that thought and then backed away from Warner.

XXXXX

1828 – Undisclosed Location

"Brace yourselves chaps, we're in for some impact," Elvis said. "Hello, Jacks, get your arse down 'ere ASAP. I don't want ya rocketing off this thing if he stops."

"Roger," Jackson responded with a laugh. "Would be one hell of a landing sir."

Jackson back crawled his way to the rear of the carriage roof. Soon Elvis and Spanner could see the thick soles of their teammate's boots descending down the rungs of the ladder. Once the three were united they huddles together to devise their plan.

"Listen in. The way I see it, our asset will either stop or take the plunge. Either way, we need to get inside once Duvall pulls the switch. That's our cover to ease the breach. We can't be on the outside if this thing derails, cause we'll be like loose trash flyin off a lorry." Elvis said.

Spanner chuckled and said, "If he stops, we blow the driver's access door."

"Bingo boys! That's exactly wha' we're gonna do. We just need to see how much fuckin nerve this lunatic's got."

Spanner made quick work of imbedding a small explosive device onto the connecting door. All three synced their watches anticipating the moment Duvall would strike.

"Prepare to breach," came Elvis' command.

He and Spanner flanked the door with Jackson ready to fall in behind them. Elvis took a quick glance at the time. "Light show in seven, six, five, four, three, two, one….." The word "breach" came out of his mouth the very instant the Explosives Unit engaged. The three operatives fought to maintain balance on the shuddering carriage as the shock wave from the blast caused the metal wheels to seize against the track beneath them. Hot sparks shot from the charge Spanner had planted, easily disabling the connecting door to the carriage. With one kick Special Forces tossed in flash bangs as they breached, crouching low and calling out to "get down!" and "don't move!" Muzzle flash pierced the hazy smoke and the boys returned fire tactfully, not in desperation as the targets were doing. Screams and choked coughs added to the confusion.

Elvis, Spanner and Jackson found themselves skidding, falling backwards only to be violently thrown forwards as the train was being braked hard. The sound of grinding, whining metal produced shrieks of terror in the confines of the carriage. Elvis fell onto his side, not able to dodge a hit from a ricocheted bullet.

"Fuck!" he uttered through gritted teeth. It struck the meaty flesh of his left upper arm. The pain seared like a branding iron but he ignored it, forcing the arm up to support his gun hand. He double-tapped in methodical sequence, confident in every squeeze of the trigger.

The target's fire began to diminish and Spanner crawled passed Elvis and shimmied between two seats. As rear guard, Jackson could see a tall figure emerge through the waning smoke. He leveled his rifle, easily taking down the target. The Forces could hear whimpers as the panic began to die down along with the close quarter gun battle. It was obvious now that the remainder of 1L83 was at a standstill.