Chapters (45)
- Title Page
- Copyright Page
- Contents
- Prologue
- 2046
- One
- Two
- Three
- Four
- Five
- Six
- Seven
- Eight
- Nine
- Ten
- Eleven
- Twelve
- Thirteen
- Fourteen
- Fifteen
- Sixteen
- Seventeen
- Eighteen
- Nineteen
- Twenty
- Twenty-One
- Twenty-Two
- Twenty-Three
- Twenty-Four
- Twenty-Five
- Twenty-Six
- Twenty-Seven
- Twenty-Eight
- Twenty-Nine
- Thirty
- Thirty-One
- Thirty-Two
- Thirty-Three
- Thirty-Four
- Thirty-Five
- Thirty-Six
- Thirty-Seven
- Thirty-Eight
- Thirty-Nine
- About the Author
On the ground floor, the black-clad figures move like professional soldiers. Two pacing forward to hold at doorways as two more sweep into the rooms, opening fire as they go and pausing only to place the explosives pulled from their tac vests. Opposition is given, with police officers firing pistols and submachine guns drawn from the armoury. One attacker is shot through the head but the officer is shredded within a split second by several assault rifles tearing him apart. The emergency lights flicker and strobe, bathing the rooms in a flashing red glow mixed with the orange of the flames still blazing at the front of the building.
In the stairwell, Safa listens to the transmissions of the other officers. The attackers are professional. They are firing burst shots and covering each other. Multiple fatalities. One attacker killed. Officers down. Officers down.
She rushes past the ground floor door knowing the control room would have initiated the locking mechanism on the stairwell doors but not knowing the figures on the other side are placing explosive charges round the frame. On the next flight down towards the bunker, she hears the sizzle before the explosion and ducks down as the door behind her blows apart. The Prime Minister screams again with his hands covering his head and sinks into the corner of the stairwell with a jet of piss squirting down his trousers.
Safa holds position, aiming with a double-handed grip and waiting for the first charging body to come through the ruined door. Firing twice and the rounds from her pistol slam the man back against the wall. She plants another shot in his head and twitches to fire at the next one rushing in. Her face a mask of focus and concentration. Two down, shot and killed outright. Voices from the corridor shouting orders in a language she does not know. A shout and an object rolls in. She grabs it quickly, throws it back and drops as the grenade detonates in the packed enclosure. An advantage taken and she presses the attack home, leaning round the ruined doorway to empty her magazine into the screaming bodies in the corridor beyond.