Read Online Gray Vengeance by Alan McDermott - Free Book Online
Authors: Alan McDermott
Tags: thriller, Suspense, Literature & Fiction, Thrillers, Action & Adventure, Crime, Military, War & Military, Genre Fiction, Mystery; Thriller & Suspense, War, Thrillers & Suspense, Thriller & Suspense
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the afternoon to fit them.’
‘We don’t usually open so early,’ the girl said, ‘but I can see if the driver will make an exception.’
Roberts handed over another fifty pounds, and the early start was suddenly no longer a problem.
He thanked her for her help and returned to his van.
Monday would be December 15th, the day earmarked for Britain’s collapse.
Chapter 11
14 December 2014
Takasa had two electric fans pointing at him as he sat by his laptop, surveying the messages coming in. The open windows did little to cool the room, as the hot Nigerian night offered nothing more than an infrequent gentle breeze to make life more tolerable.
Three cells had yet to report their status, but as they had last-minute arrangements to make, he wasn’t panicking. The news stations hadn’t mentioned anything about foiled terrorist plots in the last couple of days, and as the hours ticked down, he thought it increasingly unlikely that anything could stop his plan.
He took a sip of his gin and tonic, conscious of the fact that devout Muslims didn’t imbibe alcohol. But then, he’d been an atheist since he was old enough to make that decision, and playing the role of leader of a Muslim group didn’t make him a servant of Islam.
He sat back on the sofa, a smile creeping over his face as he pictured the reaction once he unleashed hell. Within hours, the country would come to a standstill.
There would be deaths, of course, but that was necessary and unavoidable. He’d long ago reconciled himself to the fact that blood would be on his hands, but with each act of aggression he’d planned, the value of life decreased, until they were nothing more than theoretical numbers. Perhaps a hundred thousand would never see Christmas but, then again, people died every day.
His laptop screen showed another incoming message:
97 ready
Good. His cell in Newcastle had completed its preparations; that left only Manchester and Coventry to report in.
He picked up his gin and stepped out onto the balcony, where the sun was painting the sky a fiery orange as it sank below the horizon. An apt omen, he thought, taking another sip of his drink.
He glanced at his watch and saw that it was almost time to place his bets. Britain was going to become a war zone in short order, and the damage he was about to cause would devastate some of the larger companies on the stock market. Their stock prices would tumble as investors bailed, which they surely would once the financial liabilities became apparent. The National Grid, for example, would have to spend close to a billion undoing his work, almost a whole year’s profits. As the share price tumbled, he would reap the rewards.
Although he had offered DSA’s council fifty million towards the venture, he’d kept back two million for this very moment. He would sell a vast amount of shares in NG and several other companies certain to be affected, and once the dust had settled, he would honour his investment and complete the transaction by buying the shares back at a much lower price.
He decided to sell half a million shares at 800p, knowing that once the attacks started, they would be closer to 400p, earning him a tidy profit. He called his broker in Switzerland and gave him a list of transactions with instructions to execute them as soon as the stock exchange opened the following morning.
In the next day or two, he would have more than enough to spirit himself away to a new safe haven and a comfortable retirement , which was no more than he deserved. He’d spent his master’s money as requested, and soon the results of his work would be on every television screen around the world.
The cash would be a nice return for a few months of planning, but the real satisfaction would come in the next few days.
Chapter 12
15 December 2014
Andrew Harvey was the first into the meeting room, determined not to incur Sarah Thompson’s wrath once more.
Since she’d arrived to take over his
‘We don’t usually open so early,’ the girl said, ‘but I can see if the driver will make an exception.’
Roberts handed over another fifty pounds, and the early start was suddenly no longer a problem.
He thanked her for her help and returned to his van.
Monday would be December 15th, the day earmarked for Britain’s collapse.
Chapter 11
14 December 2014
Takasa had two electric fans pointing at him as he sat by his laptop, surveying the messages coming in. The open windows did little to cool the room, as the hot Nigerian night offered nothing more than an infrequent gentle breeze to make life more tolerable.
Three cells had yet to report their status, but as they had last-minute arrangements to make, he wasn’t panicking. The news stations hadn’t mentioned anything about foiled terrorist plots in the last couple of days, and as the hours ticked down, he thought it increasingly unlikely that anything could stop his plan.
He took a sip of his gin and tonic, conscious of the fact that devout Muslims didn’t imbibe alcohol. But then, he’d been an atheist since he was old enough to make that decision, and playing the role of leader of a Muslim group didn’t make him a servant of Islam.
He sat back on the sofa, a smile creeping over his face as he pictured the reaction once he unleashed hell. Within hours, the country would come to a standstill.
There would be deaths, of course, but that was necessary and unavoidable. He’d long ago reconciled himself to the fact that blood would be on his hands, but with each act of aggression he’d planned, the value of life decreased, until they were nothing more than theoretical numbers. Perhaps a hundred thousand would never see Christmas but, then again, people died every day.
His laptop screen showed another incoming message:
97 ready
Good. His cell in Newcastle had completed its preparations; that left only Manchester and Coventry to report in.
He picked up his gin and stepped out onto the balcony, where the sun was painting the sky a fiery orange as it sank below the horizon. An apt omen, he thought, taking another sip of his drink.
He glanced at his watch and saw that it was almost time to place his bets. Britain was going to become a war zone in short order, and the damage he was about to cause would devastate some of the larger companies on the stock market. Their stock prices would tumble as investors bailed, which they surely would once the financial liabilities became apparent. The National Grid, for example, would have to spend close to a billion undoing his work, almost a whole year’s profits. As the share price tumbled, he would reap the rewards.
Although he had offered DSA’s council fifty million towards the venture, he’d kept back two million for this very moment. He would sell a vast amount of shares in NG and several other companies certain to be affected, and once the dust had settled, he would honour his investment and complete the transaction by buying the shares back at a much lower price.
He decided to sell half a million shares at 800p, knowing that once the attacks started, they would be closer to 400p, earning him a tidy profit. He called his broker in Switzerland and gave him a list of transactions with instructions to execute them as soon as the stock exchange opened the following morning.
In the next day or two, he would have more than enough to spirit himself away to a new safe haven and a comfortable retirement , which was no more than he deserved. He’d spent his master’s money as requested, and soon the results of his work would be on every television screen around the world.
The cash would be a nice return for a few months of planning, but the real satisfaction would come in the next few days.
Chapter 12
15 December 2014
Andrew Harvey was the first into the meeting room, determined not to incur Sarah Thompson’s wrath once more.
Since she’d arrived to take over his
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