An International Crime Thriller Book Series

John Steel by Stuart Field

Series Excerpt

John Steel felt a strange sensation of being lifted, or was it his soul? Was this it? Was this the end?

But what concerned him was there was no bright light or chorus of angels. He had to admit he’d never been a good man in the true sense of the word. Of course, he had killed men, but that was the job, but he had never figured that would be held against him.

His feeling of weightlessness was strange; It was almost as if he had been carried.

Steel could hear a voice calling to him. It was soft, almost distant. It was telling him to hang on. This was followed by the voice telling Steel that he was sorry.

But what for?

Steel opened an eye and saw the floor of the attic. Then as he looked around, he saw someone’s back. Steel realised that the Japanese gardener had carried him across the room, towards the wall.

Then Steel realised why the man was apologising. But before Steel could say anything, the Japanese gardener had launched Steel into the dumbwaiter and then pressed the button to send it down.

The Japanese gardener raced downstairs, ensuring that the mercenaries had all gone.

Bodies lay awkwardly on the stairwell and the wooden floors.

Steel had done his job. He had taken out most of the intruders, but not enough. But it was little consolation if Steel died now.

When the gunfire had started, the gardener had made a call to London, informing MI8 of the situation.

The response was as expected. ‘Keep John Steel alive.’

The gardener saw the blood pool seeping from the sliding door as the gardener reached the kitchen. He had to be quick.

The gardener slid open the flap and pulled Steel out of the dumb waiter.

There was no time to be gentle.

He knew he had to stop the bleeding somehow. So, he grabbed the pistol from Steel’s holster and slid out the magazine.

A full clip of fifteen 9mm.

The gardener searched the kitchen and found some pliers. Then, he carefully removed the bullets from the casing and tipped the black power into one of the wounds. Then repeated it four more times.

‘This is going to sting,’ the gardener said. Then lit the places he had poured the powder. Flames leapt from the wounds, and Steel screamed, then lay unconscious.

The gardener looked up and out of the window. There was a gentle thump, thump, thump of rotor blades.

The cavalry had arrived.

Then the four black hawk helicopters landed, and men in combat gear spilt out into an all-around defence position.

The gardener rushed outside. Suddenly weapons were trained on him.

‘It’s OK,’ said one man. ‘He’s a friendly.’ The man was a captain of the special operations unit and rushed over along the medics.

‘Is he alive?’ asked Brant.

‘Barely, but I’ve stopped the bleeding. Though he will have some scaring later, I’ve no doubt,’ said the gardener.

The medics rushed in and placed Steel on a stretcher. As they carried him out, Steel began to convulse.

They placed the stretcher down and began to work on him.

‘he’s going into cardiac arrest. I fear he has lost too much blood,’ said the lead medic.

Suddenly, the gardener rushed back into the house and came back with a surging gun moments later.

‘What’s that?’ asked the medic.

‘Something the Earl had been working on with his company,’ the gardener said, then injected Steel with the fluid before anyone could stop him.

‘What the bloody hell you are doing, man?’ Brant yelled.

‘Saving his life–I hope,’ the gardener said.

‘You know it hasn’t been tested?’ Brant said.

‘The way I look at it, captain, we have no other alternative,’ the gardener said and plunged the inch-long needle into Steel’s chest.

Suddenly, Steel flatlined, and the medics began to start CPR. Then, he began to convulse violently. Everyone stood back. As if afraid of what was happening.

‘What the hell did they put in that stuff anyway?’ Brant asked as he watched.

‘Natural herbs and toxins,’ the gardener said.

‘In other words, don’t ask?’ Brant said.

Suddenly Steel lay still; his chest rose and fell as though he was asleep.

‘It ain’t gonna give him superpowers?’ one of the soldiers asked. Almost afraid of the answer.

‘No. It just shocked his body to start repairing himself quicker,’ The Gardener replied. ‘And before you ask, no, nothing like the comic books. His recovery will take time. But this just bought him a few minutes that he might not have had. It is a temporary thing. We were trialling it for military and law enforcement. Something to replace that bullet wound trauma packs you have in your medkits at the moment,’ the gardener explained.

‘So, when did they start human trials?’ asked the soldier.

The gardener looked down at Steel.

‘Just then, and so far, I’d say it was a success,’ the gardener said. ‘But I have no idea how long it will hold. So, you best get moving, captain.’

The gardener watched as they loaded John Steel into one of the helicopters. And with a massive blast from the downforce, the three helicopters took off and headed east. As they disappeared over the tree line, the gardener turned and headed back into the house. His cell phone pressed up against his head.

‘Steel is on the way to you now. Get the theatre ready. Six gunshot wounds, massive blood loss.’ The gardener listened to the person on the other end. ‘Just so you know, I gave him the formula. Yes, it stemmed the bleeding, but we needed to be wary of side effects. But now we know it works,’ he said as he stood on the step.

A distant wail of sirens made him turn; the police were coming.

‘I have to go. The police are here. I’ll call you later,’ the gardener said before hanging up the call.