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bodyguard. They parked by the garage, opened the door and drove out in the family Mercedes, stopping in front of the house. The bodyguard got out and looked around warily, as if he was on a Moscow street rather than outside a luxury house in St George’s Hill. He rang the bell. Irina busied herself getting Yury’s laptop and books together and the case of clean games kit that the maid had washed and ironed. Yury held his iPhone to his chest with both hands. Irina gave him a big kiss on the lips. His eyes shone back at her.
Yury was unfazed by the fearsome bodyguard, who smiled at Irina revealing a gold tooth and a grin so lacking in humour she was concerned at letting her son go into his care. The boy threw himself across the back seat, followed by the bodyguard. The car pulled away and headed for the road outside the perimeter of the exclusive estate. Yury’s thumbs danced over his iPhone.
In a few minutes they came out on to the Byfleet Road and headed for Oxshott and Yury’s school. They were early so as not to get caught in the school rush. Sergei Yermilov did not like his son’s car being stationary in traffic, where there were fewer options for escape, and so Yury was sent to school about forty minutes before all his school friends.
As the driver pulled away, a truck eased out into the road behind the Mercedes and stalled across both lanes. The Mercedes travelled fast along a stretch of road with no traffic in either direction. As it passed the turning to the Silvermere Care Home, a police car pulled out from a side road on the left and the driver was forced to stop. At the same moment another police car pulled out behind them, blocking their rear. Two officers got out of the car in front. They were dressed in peaked caps and flak jackets and had holstered weapons on their hips. The driver checked the rear-view, saw two similar officers coming from the other car. He looked at the bodyguard, who shrugged. Yury looked up from his iPhone to find that real life had become more interesting.
The driver stared at the approaching officers with eyes narrowed, full of suspicion. His legs were squeezed shut with a PSS Silent Pistol between them. The bodyguard had access to an MP-443 Grach. The four officers drew level with the car. In each case one was slightly ahead of the other and the rear officer had his hand on the Glock 17 in his holster. The lead officer in each pair asked the occupants of the car to open their doors, making a gesture so that it was understood.
Even the driver wasn’t a hundred per cent sure what triggered his next move – some intuition bred from frequent assaults– because he suddenly kicked open his door, which knocked over the lead officer, and produced his PSS. He had no time to fire. The rear officer drew his Glock 17 and put three bullets in his chest and one into his head before he’d even fired a shot.
At the same moment the lead officer at the rear yanked open the door and fell away so that the shot that came from the MP-443 Grach shattered the window but didn’t touch him. The officer behind already had his Glock out and shot the bodyguard in the head. The blood spray speckled the bewildered Yury’s face. He was still holding his iPhone. The lead officer recovered, reached in, knocked the iPhone out of the boy’s hands, grabbed him by his pullover, shirt and tie and hauled him over the inert bodyguard’s legs. Yury started kicking and screaming. The rear officer produced a handkerchief, put it over the boy’s face and he immediately slumped. The lead officer walked back with him draped over an arm while the other officers kicked the doors shut and trotted back to their cars. They moved off. As they approached the Silvermere Haven Pet Cemetery, they flashed the truck, which pulled into the lane so that they could pass.
The police car in the rear turned and drove back, flashing the truck stalled across the road. It manoeuvred out of the way and they drove past heading for the
Yury was unfazed by the fearsome bodyguard, who smiled at Irina revealing a gold tooth and a grin so lacking in humour she was concerned at letting her son go into his care. The boy threw himself across the back seat, followed by the bodyguard. The car pulled away and headed for the road outside the perimeter of the exclusive estate. Yury’s thumbs danced over his iPhone.
In a few minutes they came out on to the Byfleet Road and headed for Oxshott and Yury’s school. They were early so as not to get caught in the school rush. Sergei Yermilov did not like his son’s car being stationary in traffic, where there were fewer options for escape, and so Yury was sent to school about forty minutes before all his school friends.
As the driver pulled away, a truck eased out into the road behind the Mercedes and stalled across both lanes. The Mercedes travelled fast along a stretch of road with no traffic in either direction. As it passed the turning to the Silvermere Care Home, a police car pulled out from a side road on the left and the driver was forced to stop. At the same moment another police car pulled out behind them, blocking their rear. Two officers got out of the car in front. They were dressed in peaked caps and flak jackets and had holstered weapons on their hips. The driver checked the rear-view, saw two similar officers coming from the other car. He looked at the bodyguard, who shrugged. Yury looked up from his iPhone to find that real life had become more interesting.
The driver stared at the approaching officers with eyes narrowed, full of suspicion. His legs were squeezed shut with a PSS Silent Pistol between them. The bodyguard had access to an MP-443 Grach. The four officers drew level with the car. In each case one was slightly ahead of the other and the rear officer had his hand on the Glock 17 in his holster. The lead officer in each pair asked the occupants of the car to open their doors, making a gesture so that it was understood.
Even the driver wasn’t a hundred per cent sure what triggered his next move – some intuition bred from frequent assaults– because he suddenly kicked open his door, which knocked over the lead officer, and produced his PSS. He had no time to fire. The rear officer drew his Glock 17 and put three bullets in his chest and one into his head before he’d even fired a shot.
At the same moment the lead officer at the rear yanked open the door and fell away so that the shot that came from the MP-443 Grach shattered the window but didn’t touch him. The officer behind already had his Glock out and shot the bodyguard in the head. The blood spray speckled the bewildered Yury’s face. He was still holding his iPhone. The lead officer recovered, reached in, knocked the iPhone out of the boy’s hands, grabbed him by his pullover, shirt and tie and hauled him over the inert bodyguard’s legs. Yury started kicking and screaming. The rear officer produced a handkerchief, put it over the boy’s face and he immediately slumped. The lead officer walked back with him draped over an arm while the other officers kicked the doors shut and trotted back to their cars. They moved off. As they approached the Silvermere Haven Pet Cemetery, they flashed the truck, which pulled into the lane so that they could pass.
The police car in the rear turned and drove back, flashing the truck stalled across the road. It manoeuvred out of the way and they drove past heading for the
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