by OMJ Ryan
Hollie stared at the handsome, scarred face that had finally been unveiled.
Baker continued, ‘You won’t say anything, will you Hollie?’
Hollie shook her head frantically. ‘No. No. I promise. Not to anyone.’
‘Get out of the way, Baker.’ Spencer cocked the gun.
Hollie screamed with fright.
Baker raised his arms and took a step towards Spencer. ‘Come on, Spence. Don’t do this. This isn’t right.’
‘Yes it bloody is!’ Spencer shouted in reply. ‘People like her father set us up to fail over there. His greed put us in unnecessary danger, and look what happened to me. The day that IED went off, I lost everything that mattered to me; my best mate, half my face and my whole career. All gone, in an instant. I’ve been to some dark fucking places in the last few years, Baker. But now I have a chance to start again, and I’m not gonna let anything, or anyone, stand in the way of that. Not even you.’
‘Look. I get it. I lost people too. We all did,’ Baker said. ‘But whatever pain we’ve felt since, Hollie’s not to blame. We don’t need to kill her.’
Spencer thrust the gun towards Baker’s chest. ‘Get out of the way.’
Hollie’s heart pounded like a bass drum in her chest. Her eyes darted around the room as she searched for an escape route. But the only way out was past Spencer.
‘We’ve both seen too much killing,’ Baker said as he opened his palm out flat in front of Spencer. ‘Come on, give me the gun. No one else has to die. Not today.’
Hollie swallowed hard, her mouth dry with adrenaline.
‘Baker, get out of the fucking way!’ shouted Spencer.
Without warning, Baker launched himself at Spencer and knocked her to the ground. ‘Run, Hollie,’ he shouted as he fought for control of the gun. ‘Run!’
Coming to her senses, Hollie scrambled from the bed and jumped over the two bodies as they grappled on the floor. She soon found herself in a darkened corridor, and took a second to get her bearings. She could see light coming in from her right, so set off running towards it, her footsteps echoing around the dark space.
An ungodly bang from behind stopped Hollie in her tracks. She turned to face the room she had just left, praying she would see Baker’s face appear in the doorway. Her heart sank when Spencer staggered out, still holding the gun. For a moment, Spencer stared back into the room behind her, then turned and locked eyes with Hollie. She raised the gun and fired.
Hollie screamed as the bullet zipped past her head, then turned and ran for her life.
46
A gunshot rang out across the barren landscape. Phillips jumped. ‘Shit! We’ve gotta get in there, now.’
Jones grabbed the radio. ‘Control, this is Delta 4. Gunshots fired at the old brickworks. How far out are TFU?’
‘Delta 4, this is control. TFU are four minutes out.’
‘We should wait, Guv,’ said Jones.
Then a second shot was fired.
‘No we bloody shouldn’t!’ replied Phillips as she pushed open the car door and jumped out. Jones and Entwistle followed.
Just then, Hollie appeared from the back of the brickworks. ‘Help! Help! Somebody, help!’ she shouted as she ran across the rough terrain. She was followed by the woman who’d entered the building ten minutes earlier. The woman raised the gun and fired at Hollie.
Hollie screamed and ducked, but continued to run away from the woman, who chased after her.
Phillips, Jones and Entwistle set off after them.
A moment later, Hollie disappeared into an adjacent dilapidated building that looked like it had once been connected to the brickworks. The woman raced in after her.
As Phillips, Jones and Entwistle approached the second building, Phillips signalled for them to slow down. They came to a stop just outside the entrance. Phillips listened intently. She could just make out the faint sound of footsteps within the old structure.
Jones stared at her, wide-eyed. ‘We should wait for TFU, Guv.’
Phillips was still trying to catch her breath and said nothing for a moment.
‘They’ll be here in three minutes,’ added Jones.
Phillips had never felt so conflicted. Every impulse in her body was telling her to go in and do whatever it took to save Hollie, but Jones was right. They should wait for the Firearms team. After all, she knew better than most how it felt to have your body torn apart by a bullet.
Just then, another shot rang out, and Hollie screamed in terror. That was all the incentive she needed.
‘I’m going in. Entwistle, get back to the car and update TFU. Jonesy, you stay here. No sense in us both copping it from Fox,’ she said with a faint smile, then headed in.
The old building was dark and wet from the recent downpours, and the chilly November wind blew through the open walls. Phillips soon found the concrete staircase that ran up the inside of the building. Footsteps and shouts came from above.
Jones arrived a second later.
‘I told you to stay put,’ whispered Phillips.
‘Yeah, well, you’re not the only one who can disobey orders, Guv,’ he replied with a cheeky grin.
Phillips smiled and gave him a silent nod. Another shot rang out. She raced up the stairs, taking them two at a time. With each flight that passed, the woman’s shouts and Hollie’s screams grew louder.
As Phillips reached the top floor landing of the three-storey building, the ruckus stopped. She paused. The room in front of her was cloaked in darkness. Her heart pounded and her mouth was bone dry as she took a tentative step into the room.
Phillips heard the sound of the impact before she felt it. A moment later, her world went black.
As Jones turned to make his way up the final flight of stairs, he stopped in his tracks and watched in horror as Phillips tumbled towards him down the brutally hard staircase. She came to a stop on the landing in front of him. ‘Guv!’ he shouted, and knelt to check her for injuries. She was unconscious, and dark, viscous blood oozed from the back of her head onto the concrete.
‘Get up,’ a cold voice from above him said.
Jones looked up.
The woman they had been chasing stood at the top of the stairs, gun trained on him, left arm clutching Hollie tightly. At close quarters, he recognised her distinctive scarred face from the suspect files: Michelle Spencer.
‘I said, get up,’ Spencer repeated.
Jones did as instructed, lifting his hands in surrender as he did so. ‘I’m DS Jones from the Major Crimes Unit. This is DCI Phillips.’ He nodded towards her limp body. ‘The Firearms team will be here any minute. Be sensible and give yourself up.’
‘No surrender,’ Spencer said as she moved down the staircase towards him. She stopped just a few steps from Phillips. ‘Now, turn around.’
Again, Jones did as he was told.
‘Move it,’ Spencer ordered, then jabbed him in the spine with the pistol.
Jones took his time as he descended the steps, hoping to buy precious seconds for the TFU to get into position. He prayed they would arrive before Spencer did anything stupid.
They moved down two flights of stairs, but as they turned onto the third, Jones spotted a large sliver of broken glass sticking out of the metal window frame on the landing ahead of him. His instincts urged him to try and reach for it, but his brain told him Spencer would shoot him dead first.
Spencer had obviously spotted the glass too. ‘Don’t even think about it,’ she said, and again jabbed him in the back with the muzzle of her pistol.
Jones stopped and turned his body just enough so he could see her face. ‘Seriously, Michelle. You don’t need to do this.’
‘Why does everyone seem to think they know what I need, hey?’ she replied.
In a flash of movement, Hollie lurched forwards and sank her teeth into Spencer’s left hand. Spencer screamed in agony and released her. In that instant, Jones rushed Spencer and grabbed the gun with both hands. As he did, Hollie squirmed past and raced away down the stairs.
Jones fought with everything he had to get the gun away from Spencer, but she was very strong, pushing him backwards. Then she slammed her foot into his crotch and he dropped to his knees in agony, gasping for breath. The woman was unrelenting and delivered a powerful kick to his ribs, which knocked him face-first onto the floor. He rolled around in agony, then a knee dug painfully in his back. Spencer’s hand grabbed at what little hair he had and jerked his head backwards, away from the floor. The muzzle of the pistol dug into the back of his head.
‘I’m tired of people always trying to fuck with me!’ shouted Spencer.
Time appeared to pass in slow motion, and all Jones could think about was his wife and kids. How would they cope without him?
Suddenly Jones was aware of movement from above as a bloodied Phillips ran headlong down the stairs. A split second later, Spencer’s knee left his back.
Phillips landed heavily on Spencer and grabbed at the gloved hand holding the gun. Using all her weight to hold Spencer down, she smashed the pistol against the concrete repeatedly, but Spencer stubbornly refused to let go.
The sound of sirens, as the Firearms team arrived, echoed around the hollow building.
Trapped flat against the concrete, and just inches from Phillips’s face, Spencer – her pupils so wide her eyes were almost jet black – became feral, like a wild animal overwhelmed by the desire to survive. She threw a left hook with such force into Phillips’s ribs that the crack of bone was audible. Phillips cried out in agony but, refusing to relent, continued to grapple for the gun. Spencer punched her again in the same rib. The pain was excruciating and too much to bear, and Phillips released Spencer’s wrist.
Spencer thrust the gun up towards Phillips, who batted it away just as Spencer fired. The report consumed Phillips’s hearing. Acting on pure instinct, she slammed her forehead down onto the bridge of Spencer’s nose. The impact produced a sickening crunch and caused Spencer to cry out as the cartilage shattered and blood gushed from her nostrils.
As her head fell back onto the concrete, Spencer finally dropped the gun. Phillips grabbed for it, but Spencer instantly smashed her fist up into Phillips’s solar plexus, stopping Phillips in her tracks. She slumped onto the concrete.
Grabbing the gun, Spencer jumped to her feet just as Jones rejoined the fray. He rushed her, but she side-stepped him and expertly smashed the butt of the gun into his temple. The blow knocked him clean out and sent him crashing to the ground with a heavy thud.
Phillips regained her feet as Spencer turned to face her. With blood still pouring from her broken nose, she trained the pistol on Phillips.
‘It’s over, Michelle. The Firearms team is here. There’s no way out for you.’
Spencer’s eyes, which remained black, glazed over. She said nothing for a long moment, then a knowing grin filled her face. ‘You see, that’s where you’re wrong.’ She retracted the gun and thrust the muzzle up under her own chin.
In that split second, Phillips threw herself at Spencer and pushed her backwards, just as another ear-splitting bang exploded into the space.
Phillips landed hard on the cold concrete floor, smashing her face onto the unforgiving surface. For a second, she lost consciousness. As she came to and opened her eyes, she became aware of silence. The unmistakable smell of gunpowder filled the air. She lifted her head and came face to face with Spencer’s combat boots. As her gaze tracked up Spencer’s legs, she realised Spencer was leaning against the window frame. Lifting herself up onto all fours, she took in the ghastly scene; Spencer stared back at her, motionless, impaled on a large glass spike, which stuck out through her right breastbone. Dark red blood poured from her open mouth.
Phillips jumped up and rushed to her. ‘Hang in there, Michelle.’
Spencer coughed, and produced a blood-stained grin. ‘I haven’t got much choice, have I?’ she said, then closed her eyes.
‘Don’t you fucking die on me, Michelle,’ Phillips said as she pulled out her phone and called Entwistle.
The TFU had entered the building below and were making their way up the steps.
Entwistle answered almost immediately. ‘Guv?’
‘Call an ambulance!’ shouted Phillips.
‘Are you ok?’
‘Never mind me. Just call an ambulance, now!’
47
That afternoon, during his brief visit to the MRI, Sir Richard Hawkins had insisted his daughter be kept in overnight for observation in spite of the consultant’s confidence that Hollie could go home that day. But, as was usual where her stepfather was concerned, in the end he got his own way – which included a private room for Hollie. Then he left for yet another important business meeting. Hollie had overheard him on the phone outside her room, and knew that the meeting in question was with the chief constable concerning their plans to return to him whatever money had been recovered from the hideout. So, once again, it was left to Hollie’s mother to be the parent. Sir Richard had, of course, apologised for how busy he was, and promised he would see her at home tomorrow. He really doesn’t care, thought Hollie.
In contrast, Sandra Hawkins had not left her daughter’s side since they had been reunited, and sat by her bedside now, holding her hand and brushing her hair from her face.
‘What happened to my phone, Mum?’ asked Hollie. She realised she’d not seen social media for over a week – a lifetime in teenage terms.
Sandra picked up her bag and rummaged through it for a moment before producing Hollie’s missing iPhone. ‘I had to get the screen replaced. It was smashed when you were…’ she paused. The words appeared stuck in her throat, and tears welled in her eyes.
‘It’s all right, Mum. You can say it. When I was kidnapped.’
Sandra shook her head, clearly trying hard to fight away the tears. ‘I just can’t believe they put you through that.’
At that moment, DCI Phillips knocked on the door. ’I’m not interrupting, am I?’
‘No. Not at all,’ replied Hollie.
Phillips moved next to the bed, on the opposite side to Sandra. The back of her head had been recently bandaged. ‘How are you feeling?’ she asked in a warm voice.
‘I’m doing ok. Thanks to you and DS Jones,’ said Hollie.
Sandra Hawkins nodded enthusiastically. ‘Yes, Chief Inspector. We really can’t thank you both enough.’
Phillips smiled. ‘It was a team effort. We were just doing what we get paid to do.’
Sandra nodded. ‘It was a lot more than that, I’m sure.’
‘How badly were you hurt?’ asked Hollie.
‘Just a few stitches and a couple of cracked ribs. Believe me, I’ve had worse,’ Phillips chuckled.
Hollie smiled.
‘So, what will happen to Spencer, now?’ asked Sandra.
‘Once she’s recovered from her injuries, we’ll have to wait and see. Technically, she’s guilty of kidnapping and attempted murder. However, we’ll need a mental health expert to decide whether or not she’s fit to stand trial. The court may decide she needs psychiatric help rather than prison.’
‘So, she’ll get away with it, then?’ said Sandra, her voice shrill.
Phillips shook her head. ‘Far from it. She’ll be treated in a secure hospital and remain there indefinitely.’
‘And what about the others?’ asked Hollie.
‘Well, two of the gang are still at large. Hopefully, once Spencer’s well enough to talk, she can help us identify them.’
‘And what if she refuses?’ asked Sandra.
‘Rest assured, whatever happens, we’ll keep looking for them, no matter how far away they’ve run.’
Hollie was almost afraid to ask her next question for fear of the answer. ‘And Baker?’
Phillips took a deep breath. ‘I’m afraid Marcus Baker died from his injuries an hour ago. He’d been shot in the stomach at close range, and there was little the surgeons could do to help him.’
Hollie dropped her head and stared at the white sheets covering h
er legs and waist. ‘He saved my life, you know. She was going to kill me.’ Tears rolled down her cheeks.
Phillips placed a reassuring hand on Hollie’s shoulder and passed her a tissue. ‘Try not to upset yourself.’
The room fell silent for a long moment before Phillips spoke again.
‘Hollie. I hate to ask you more questions when you’ve already been through so much, but do you remember anything about the other members of the gang?’
Hollie wiped her eyes with the tissue. ‘Just that the one they called Blue was a bit older than the rest. I heard Spencer saying he was old and stupid after he left the door open. He was quite kind to me and cooked me vegetarian meals.’
‘Anything distinctive that you can remember? Distinguishing marks? Tattoos? His accent, maybe?’ asked Phillips.
‘He hardly ever said anything, but I think he was Irish or Scottish,’ said Hollie.
‘And the fourth guy? Anything that you can remember about him?’ asked Phillips.
‘Just that they called him White, and he was horrible. He said I was a “spoilt little bitch”, and he was going to feed me to the pigs.’
‘Oh, my poor baby,’ said Sandra as she stroked Hollie’s head,
‘Was there anything else you remember about him?’ asked Phillips.
‘No. Sorry,’ said Hollie. ‘He only spoke to me a few times. He gave me the creeps.’
‘Did you ever hear the gang talk about who helped them snatch you from the club?’
Hollie shook her head.
‘Or did they ever talk about heroin?’
‘Heroin?’ said Hollie. ‘No. Why do you ask?’
‘Well, we found a large stash in Spencer’s car. I just wondered if you might have heard anything that might help explain how it got there?’
‘Sorry. I don’t remember anything like that,’ said Hollie.
‘Ok. Not to worry. Well, I think that’s all I need to know for now.’ Phillips gave her a warm smile.
‘So how much money was taken from my dad in the end?’ asked Hollie.