The city was thick with traffic, every road gridlocked as an army of red busses and black cabs tried their best to weave through the narrow streets. On the parallel pavement, tourists and shoppers overran the shops, all of them scurrying around like it was their last day on earth. Mac remembered his trip to visit Sam many years ago, finding the experience overwhelming.
For those who were never brought up within London itself, the city was an intimidating place and as another pedestrian took a chance and darted through the traffic, Mac could understand why.
‘This city,’ he mumbled under his breath. Lucy didn’t respond, she just clasped her hands together and sobbed. At a snail’s pace, they made their way to Euston Road and as they drove past Great Portland Street Hospital, he could see on the satnav the blue dot marking the end of their journey.
He didn’t need the screen to tell him he’d arrived.
University College Hospital London, known as UCLH, towered high over the street, a magnificent structure of four floors, all of them lined with green windows. Opposite, Warren Street Station was a hub of activity, and Mac managed to navigate the hazardous one way system to bring the car to a stop on the street nearby. The double yellow lines indicated it was a no-parking area but with no intention of returning to the car, Mac stepped out with defiance. He hurried to the boot, opened it, and retrieved the bag, carefully looping the strap over the shoulder of his black jacket.
A few passers-by baulked at the scarring that ran down the side of his face, but with London such a vibrant place, most people didn’t even acknowledge him.
Besides, Mac humorously mused, he was walking into a hospital. Most people would think that was normal for a man of his appearance.
Mac opened the passenger door and squatted down, his eyes fixed on Lucy and his hand still tightly holding the gun. Lucy leant away in fear.
‘Come with me. Stay silent.’ He warned. ‘If you want to see your daughter again, do as I say.’
With tears streaming down her exquisite cheekbones, Lucy nodded and stepped out, the brisk wind and rain catching her off guard and she wrapped her arms around her body. Together, they marched back to the front of the hospital and ascended the six, wide steps that lead to the revolving main entrance.
The hospital was unlike anything Mac had ever seen, with a magnificent, triangular sculpture hanging over the entrance. As soon as they stepped in, the magnitude of the building hit them both. An expansive waiting area bled into a coffee shop and numerous corridors channelled off into a maze. The waiting area was almost full, with people of all ages and races scattered across the chairs, the inbuilt human nature to not sit next to a stranger clearly evident.
Nurses, doctors, orderlies, and cleaners scurried from door to door, disappearing into the labyrinth with a respectable calm.
No one had batted an eyelid at the two of them and Mac led Lucy to the large map on the wall, offering a layout of the hospital.
The Teenage and Young Adult ward was on the third floor.
The hospital was renowned for its treatments for cancer, working with a charity to help fund the necessary research to try to battle against one of life’s greatest enemies.
The specialist centre for the younger generation going through their own, painful hell was three floors up and as Mac pulled Lucy towards the lift, he felt a strong sense of guilt for using them as the target.
He had been through hell.
There was only one other person in the world he would wish it upon.
They entered the lift, with another visitor politely offering for them to enter first. Mac thanked the man, but as he tried to follow them in, Mac shoved him to the ground, sending the man sprawling causing a few people to turn their heads. The lift doors closed, with the shocked man cursing in their direction, but Mac didn’t care.
He unzipped the bag and pulled out its contents, causing Lucy to heave in panic. Mac turned to her, unmoved by her fear.
‘Put this on.’
Moments later, they stepped out onto the third floor and followed the signs to the entrance of the ward. Mac had shed his coat, draping it over Lucy’s shoulders to conceal her and as they were buzzed through the door, Mac stepped into action.
‘Ladies and gentlemen, remain calm.’ All eyes fixed upon the scarred soldier as he strode into the middle of the corridor. Nurses and doctors poked their heads out from their patient rooms, many of them scowling at the interruption. ‘If you do as I say, we will get through this.’
As a doctor strode out of the nearest room towards them, Mac reached to the back of his jeans and pulled out his gun. A shriek of panic echoed around the ward and Mac fired a bullet into the air, bringing it all to an abrupt silence.
‘Lucy. Take off the coat.’
Weeping and shaking, Lucy obliged and as she did, the fear levels audibly rose. Strapped to her chest was a vest, lined with over ten blocks of C4 explosives, all of them wired to a metal control panel in the centre of the vest. The deadly bomb was linked to a switch which Mac confidently held up in his hand. Sobs of fear echoed throughout the ward and Mac demanded their attention. Turning to the receptionist, a young lady who was clutching the crucifix around her neck, he smiled.
‘Call reception. Have them evacuate the rest of the hospital. Tell them that this will all be over if the police can do one thing.’
The young lady took a deep breath, realising the safety of hundreds of people were at stake. Her Irish accent quivered as she spoke, betraying her show of bravery.
‘What do they need to do?’
Mac’s face contorted in a hateful sneer. His words
