Deadly States (Seaforth Files by Nicholas P Clark Book 2) (8 page)

“There... There was an explosion in the car park.. There are many
people dead. They think that it might have been caused by a bomb.”

Jack looked at his PA for answers. She had none. The woman, who
was in her mid-twenties, and employed by Jack not
entirely for her
intellectual acumen, looked as if she
might
burst into tears at any
moment;
or
scream the
place
down. Jack
quickly
moved to
distract
her—he had no time to deal with a hysterical woman, no matter how
pretty she was.

It was a
bomb. Jack’s
mind
quickly
slipped into full
professional
mode as he asked himself who, and why. The who and why were important in those moments as the answer to those questions would map
out what was going to happen next—a lone assassination and they
were safe—a terrorist group meant that the bomb may only be the first
of
many. Top of that list
of suspects were the Islamic militants. There
were more than a dozen such groups operating in
Africa and any one
of them would have been willing to blow a company such as his back
to the West. South
Africa may not have been a typical stronghold for
such groups with their
extreme ideologies,
but as the gateway to the
continent, and a hub for Western military and business interests in the
region, it wasn’t hard to take that leap.

Then there were the Chinese. It wasn’t beyond the realms
of possibility that they
had been listening in to the conversation that had
just taken place in the office, and they
didn’t like how it had turned

out. If Robert and the others were dead then the deal that the Chinese
had with the government would still
be in place. Robert
held all
of
the cards and there would not be a back up in—no one would simply
step into his shoes as most of the deals he carried out were done inside
his head until it was time to commit them to a final contract, and he
never shared that information (or at least all
of it) with anyone. If it
was the Chinese then Jack’s life was now in grave danger—they would
never take the risk that the deal would simply
die with Robert. If it
was a militant Islamic group then everyone’s life was now in danger—
they rarely settled for one bomb. Their normal MO was to set off one
bomb then wait ten
or fifteen minutes and set
off another
one in the
same area, just as people were massing to help the injured from the
first explosion.

Jack grabbed his PA firmly by the arm and he led her out of the office towards the lifts. If she held any notions of Jack comforting her in
her time of emotional need, his firm actions as he dragged her towards
the lifts put an end to them. The door to one of the lifts was already
open and Jack stepped inside, pulling the reluctant woman with him.
The buttons on the console inside the lift were all flashing and a very
low-pitched warning alarm was beeping lethargically. Damn it, Jack
thought. In an emergency the lifts were automatically sent to the nearest safe stop and then disabled.
alarm began to sound. It
had
went off and it took them that long to start an evacuation of the building—the very thought
of such ineptitude sent a shudder racing down
Jack’s spine—a second bomb would surely cause carnage, he thought.
Jack hated the high-pitched wail from the alarm—it was unnecessarily
loud and served only to distract and disorientate people in a real emergency. As his frustration mounted he dragged the woman, a little more
forcefully, towards the stairwell. The stairwell at the side of the building was encased in glass and this gave them a perfect view of the street
below. Even though they were looking
out
on the side of the building,
away from where Jack assumed the bomb had gone
off, they
could
still see
people running in all
directions as they
left the
building.
Police,
fire
crews
and
paramedics
were
streaming
towards
the
building from all directions. The glass in the building was toughened
and could easily withstand an
explosion,
but
every so
often, as they
descended the

As they stepped out
of the lift the fire
been several
minutes since the bomb
staircase they came across glass from a window that had been blasted
out—each floor had at least two windows
made from normal glass
which could be broken in an
emergency. Before that
day Jack never
knew exactly where those escape routes were—now they were clearly
marked as the shards
of
broken glass gleamed and sparkled in the
strong sunlight that was baking the stairwell.

Looking down from the top of the stairs it was very hard to tell that
anything significant had just happened at the bottom of the building,
apart from the odd pane
of
broken glass here and there, but as they
descended the staircase the very
distinct smell
of burnt fuel and dust
thickened the air. Jack’s PA choked
on the thick atmosphere—on another occasion he may have stopped to comfort and reassure her, but as
things stood he still didn’t know just how much danger they were in at
that
moment.

They ran into
one
of the security
guards in the foyer. The man
was sweating profusely as he directed the steady stream of bewildered
workers
out
of the building. Jack gave his PA a gentle shove in the
direction of the main entrance before walking up to the security guard
to find out what had happened. When his PA got to the main entrance
she looked back at her boss. They exchanged looks and Jack gave her a
reassuring smile that was enough to send her
on her way
out
of the
building into the
perceived safety
of the street. Jack turned to the
security guard. Jack
didn’t have to ask the man if the explosion had
been caused by a bomb—the smell of burnt
oil in the air was a clear
indication that the explosion was no accident. Jack also thought that
he could detect the faint trace
of
burning sulphur, which if
correct,
would point towards a non-commercial
explosive being used to detonate the main device. Such a device would also point in the direction
of an Islamic group. This thought
made his heart pound faster as he
braced
himself for a
second
explosion. Logic and reason took
hold
again as he probed another
explanation for the smell
of burning sulphur. If the bomb set fire to vehicles then the sulphur used to vulcanise the rubber in the tyres could account for what he smelt. It was a
stretch but it was
enough to convince the logical side
of his brain to
let the rest of his body investigate further.

The man wiped the sweat away from his brow. The involuntary action smeared dirt across his forehead giving the slightly chubby guard
the appearance of a rather lazy tribal warrior.

“We can’t tell yet,
but it looks like a few
people have been killed.
The building itself appears structurally sound but we won’t know for
sure until it has been properly assessed,” explained the man.

Jack nodded to the man and then he walked towards a side door
which led to the underground car park, where he assumed the bomb
had detonated. The security guard paused for a moment as if to protest
before remembering his place as he returned to what he had been doing.

The lights in the underground car
park had been knocked
off in
the blast and the only light permeating the darkness was coming from
the street
entrance at the front
of the building—the escape route that
had been used by those fleeing from that part
of the building. Half a
dozen
emergency workers were already
in the car
park tending to
the injured and Jack quickly sought them out as he tried to work out
who had been killed in the attack. In the very
heart
of the car park
the twisted wrecks
of several vehicles were marking the focal point of
their efforts.

As he approached the rescue workers Jack
mentally adjusted his
perception in an effort to avoid dealing with the worst of the carnage.
There were many suspicious lumps of a substance that looked a lot like
burnt
meat lying around the floor—until this was
over they would
remain nothing more than lumps
of burnt
meat in Jack’s mind. Jack’s
spirits lifted a little as he recognized the man lying
on the ground as
the paramedics worked
on him—it was Robert. Jack moved as close
to him as he could before walking into an angry glance from
one of
the emergency workers which told him in no uncertain terms to keep
the hell back.

The same paramedic flashed Jack another angry look. It was not
the time or the place for an inquisition and every stupid question that
was asked would only delay help to other injured people.

feet. I got back up again and I ran over to the burning cars to see if
there was anything that I could do for them. That’s when the petrol
tank of a nearby car exploded. That blast caught me worse than the
big explosion,” Robert’s voice grew weaker. “I caught some shrapnel.”
Robert looked down at his torso. Blood was seeping out of a fist

flesh wound, old friend,” Jack said.
Robert smiled.
“I
had a feeling that you were going to say something like that,

Jack.”
“Do you have any idea who might have done this?” asked Jack.
Robert shook his head.
“If you had asked me earlier who I thought
might
do something

like this, I would have said you. But
even you Jack wouldn’t be crazy
enough to try to blow up a building that you were still inside,” Robert
added.

“It’s nice to know that you have such a high opinion
of
me,” Jack
said, with a smile.
The paramedics had almost completed their
emergency treatment
and they got ready to move Robert to the back of a waiting ambulance
which had only just come to a stop at the main street entrance.
“Do you want me to go with you to the hospital?” Jack asked.
Jack wasn’t overly concerned if Robert lived or died but he wanted
to find out who tried to blow him to bits. Regardless
of what Robert
had to say, it was quite clear to Jack that Robert was hiding something
from him.