Capital Falling | Book 4 | Sever Winkless, Lance (most popular ebook readers TXT) 📖

“You say that, but I need to ask you something.” I look at Josh.

“I know what you’re going to say but go on,” Josh says.

“If anything happens to me, I need you to go back and take on that responsibility. Promise me you’ll do that and there won’t be any going back to your unit, your sister will be your priority.”

“Of course, Emily would be my priority, Dad. But don’t think like that, she needs you back, not her big brother,” Josh tells me.

“I would disagree with you there; she needs both of us. I know you’ve got to tread your own path, but you’d have to put that aside if anything happens.”

“Yes Dad, I know, and it wouldn’t be a sacrifice to look after Emily,” Josh says earnestly.

“I know Son, you’re a good lad.”

“Turn it in Dad,” Josh smiles.

Alice begins to navigate her way down the river without us having to direct her as often when the sun begins to win its fight with the darkness. The riverbank takes on a completely different character in the daylight. It becomes obvious that we aren’t on any deserted Borneo jungle river, this is the Thames, and it is flowing into London.

Cars begin to appear at regular intervals on roads that join the riverbank before they turn and disappear again. We even see some brave souls out walking their dogs or cycling in the early morning light, probably before they head off to work. We get some strange looks from the riverbank, and not just from the dog walkers. We keep our weapons hidden, but people wonder nevertheless where we could be going in our small boat so early in the morning.

Our nice, quiet boat ride comes to an end quicker than expected. We make good progress and as the daylight increases, it shows us Kew Bridge directly ahead.

“Pass me the binoculars,” I tell Josh.

I was right, even from a distance away and in the dim light, I can see that the bridge isn’t as it should be. The wide three arches of the low slung, stone bridge are blocked, but I can’t see by what from this distance, but there is barely any light coming from under the bridge. Scaffolding bars are visible, however, jutting up in a disorderly fashion above the bridge’s side and the roadway.

My biggest concern though, is the sudden movement of figures I see through the binoculars as our little boat floats closer. On each side of the riverbank, soldiers are moving into what I know will be defensive positions, as they are on the roadway spanning the river above.

A bright light suddenly bursts across the river, twinkling in the rippling water. The light is coming from a spotlight mounted on top of the wheelhouse of a military patrol boat. Smoke drifting into the air tells me that the engine has just come to life and the boat will be heading our way at any moment.

“Pass me that bag,” I tell Josh.

He swings the bag to me by its strap and I quickly unzip it to retrieve its contents.

“Where did you get that?” Josh asks me.

“Bill kindly lent it to me,” I tell him, taking the old fashioned long lensed camera out of the bag and hanging it around my neck.

“Doing a bit of sightseeing on the way?” he asks confused.

“In the army, we call it reconnaissance,” I tell him sarcastically. “And in the Special Forces, we call it mind your own bloody business. You catch my drift?”

“Yes, Sir,” Josh replies but looking unsure.

“Just follow my lead,” I tell him grinning.

The small patrol boat is soon making waves to our position, its wake telling me it is motoring at speed. As it approaches, I stand up in the boat ready to greet them, the camera hanging down across my chest as if I am off on a trip to the zoo.

As the patrol boat closes in, its nose sinks back into the water as its engines are powered down. There are four personnel aboard, all of them, apart from the pilot are pointing assault rifles directly at us and their aim focuses as the boat pulls up alongside ours.

“This is a restricted area, turn the boat around and leave or you will be fired upon,” a man shouts from behind his rifle.

“Who’s in command of your craft?” I shout back.

“I am. Sergeant Jennings. You have been warned, turn your boat around.”

“Sergeant Jennings, you will address me as Sir, and you will escort us through that cordon. That is an order,” I bark back.

“Identify yourself, Sir.”

“Captain Richards.”

“And what is your business, Sir?”

“We are on a reconnaissance mission for Military Intelligence. That is all I am at liberty to say. Now, you have your orders Sergeant,” I insist.

“Sir, only authorised personnel are to be let through the cordon,” Jennings replies.

“As you say, Sergeant. I am authorising you to escort us through.”

“Please show me your papers, Sir,” Jennings requests.

I retrieve my Military ID card and hand it to Josh. Alice gives the motor a burst to take us closer so that Josh can stretch out and hand over my card. The Sergeant takes the card from one of his crew to inspect, before handing it back.

“This is very irregular, Sir,” the Sergeant says as Josh reaches to get the card back.

“Nevertheless, you have your orders, Sergeant,” I tell him.

“Very well, Sir.”

“Thank you, Sergeant. Oh, and Sergeant, we will be two or three hours gaining out intel, from our boat. Please inform your men to watch for our return.”

“Yes, Sir,” Jennings agrees.

The men on the patrol boat pull in their weapons as the boat turns to lead us towards to bridge. Alice opens up the throttle on the small motor and she just about manages to keep pace with the boat in front.

As we close in on the bridge, the patrol boat peels away to the side slightly and I tell Alice to keep going, straight ahead. I can see, now that we are closer, that the