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END GAME a gripping crime thriller full of breathtaking twists

Page 17

by Charlie Gallagher


  ‘I’m not going home, George. You should just take your wife.’

  ‘Don’t be silly. I’m not leaving you.’

  ‘What do I have to go home for? A lingering death. At least this way it will be quick, and it will have some meaning. I feel so damned worthless, George, nothing but a hindrance. Pull open that door and it’s all over. Then I will have been worth something.’

  ‘You’ve still got life in you, Shelley. And you are worth something. The barrel in there — does it smell of anything?’

  ‘My sense of smell is really bad, it’s a side effect of the treatment. But, yeah, it’s a bit like bleach. Must be strong if I can smell it.’

  ‘Thanks, Shelley. I’ll be right back, okay?’

  ‘Go get your wife, George. Be happy. There’s nothing else.’

  George squeezed her hand. ‘I will be back.’

  Kane was still lying on his back, writhing in pain.

  ‘You may be telling the truth.’

  ‘Imagine that.’

  ‘You’ve got no more games to play now, Kane. You brought us both here so you could watch this play out. I won’t give you that pleasure.’ George levelled his weapon at Kane’s forehead. His finger tightened on the trigger. Kane closed his eyes.

  George heard a small sound. Something hit the truck over to his right. He turned, and saw a tiny bullet-shaped hole in the window. Another hole appeared in the door, along with a thwack sound.

  ‘Don’t you fucking move!’

  George spun round towards the voice. Barry Lance was running towards him, wielding an assault rifle. ‘The next one won’t miss, George. Now drop your fucking weapon.’

  George looked at the gun in his hand.

  Kane managed to grin. ‘Looks like you’ve got some explaining to do.’

  ‘You don’t understand, Barry,’ George said.

  Barry was three paces short of him. ‘Drop it, or I drop you,’ he said.

  George did as he was told.

  ‘Barry?’ Shelley’s voice was only just audible. Barry turned towards the trailer.

  ‘She’s here?’ Barry looked down at Kane, who nodded.

  Barry picked up George’s weapon and ran to the trailer. His wife was peering out through the gap at the door.

  Barry reached for her hand. ‘Are you trapped in there? How does it open?’

  ‘Impatient as ever.’ Shelley gave him a weak smile.

  ‘Oh, Shelley! I’ve been so worried about you, so worried. I thought I was losing you all over again.’ He squeezed her hand tighter and then stepped back to examine the door.

  ‘Is it locked?’ Barry spun towards Kane and held up his gun. ‘Is it locked, Forley?’

  ‘It’s not locked,’ Kane called out. ‘She’s free to go.’

  ‘Wait, Barry!’ George shouted. He stepped forward, and Barry pointed the rifle at him.

  ‘I told you not to fucking move!’ he hissed.

  George shouted back, ‘There’s explosives. If you open that door it goes off! The whole fucking place is rigged.’

  ‘It’s true, Barry,’ Shelley called. ‘He’s fixed it so that if you open this door, a bomb under her trailer goes off.’

  ‘What? There’s not one under you?’ Barry said.

  ‘Yeah. If the other door opens.’

  George took a step towards his wife. Barry fired into the ground between them. He brought the rifle higher.

  ‘Walk away from the trailer. Go stand with your mate over there.’

  George shook his head. ‘I’m not moving. I’m not leaving her.’

  Barry jerked the weapon. ‘I think you should listen to the man with the rifle, George.’

  ‘Jesus, Barry, she’s my wife. If you’re going to open that door over there, at least let me be with her when you do it.’

  Barry seemed to be considering this. He fumbled at his vest and pulled out a pair of handcuffs. He threw them at George’s feet.

  ‘What do you want me to do with these?’ George said.

  ‘Put one on your wrist. Do it now, or I come over and do it for you.’

  George picked them up and checked his watch as he did so. Two fifty-eight.

  ‘Barry, don’t you realise? We’re doing exactly what he wanted us to do.’ George gestured at Kane, who had now rolled onto his front to watch the show.

  ‘And if I hadn’t got here? Would you be working to get them both out, or would you have looked after yourself, like you always do?’

  ‘They’re both still here, aren’t they? I was looking for a solution. There’s very little time and we need to work together, not point guns at each other.’

  ‘Three o’clock, George, that’s what he told me. Did you know about that?’

  ‘He knows!’ Kane called out. ‘He’s trying to stall you, Barry, rush you into making a mistake. Devious fucker.’

  Barry spun towards Kane and pulled the trigger. The bullet hit the ground.

  ‘You don’t believe this three o’clock deadline shit, do you?’ George scoffed. He had snapped one handcuff onto his wrist and Barry came over and took hold of the empty one.

  ‘Lift your hand up,’ he barked at Sarah.

  ‘No way.’ She moved back into the trailer.

  ‘It don’t matter to me. I’ll cuff him to the metal. I just thought you might want to be with him.’

  ‘It’s okay, honey!’ George called out. Then he turned to Barry. ‘What are you doing, Barry? Think! There must be another way.’

  Barry shook his head. ‘There isn’t, is there? This has to end. Everyone that gets anywhere near you ends up dead or dying. You’re like a curse. I need to walk my wife away from here, George. I know you understand that, at least. I’m sorry.’

  ‘So am I. Maybe you’re right. Maybe I am a curse. Just make sure everyone knows the truth about what happened here.’

  Barry nodded. ‘I can do that. But I can’t lose her, George, we’ve been fighting so long.’

  Sarah pushed her fingers through the gap at the door. George passed her the other cuff. He was now too far from the door handle to be able to reach it. Barry went up to George and patted him down for weapons. He took George’s mobile phone and put it in his own pocket.

  ‘It’s time,’ Barry said. George nodded. Barry patted his shoulder and stepped away.

  Sarah’s grip tightened. She whispered to him through the gap, her voice thick with fear. ‘I don’t want to die, George. Not like this. Not like this!’

  George put his forehead to the gap. They were just touching.

  ‘Trust me, Sarah. Everything’s going to be alright.’

  Barry moved back over to his wife. He put his hand on the trailer door handle.

  Chapter 41

  ‘X-ray Alpha one-one to control, are you receiving?’

  The helicopter had come across the scene sooner than expected. They had cleared a canopy of trees after seeing two abandoned patrol cars just off the motorway. The on-board ‘spotter’, PC Sally Potts, noticed movement at the rear of a large building. At least three men, one of them in uniform, standing behind a lorry trailer and another lying on the ground, possibly injured.

  ‘Go ahead X-Ray Alpha one-one.’

  ‘Thank you, control, we have three persons at the rear of a building backing onto the motorway. It’s a possible sighting but we came across it rather quickly. We are in the process of going back round, but we will climb out of range as a precaution.’

  ‘Understood X-Ray Alpha one-one. Can you confirm your exact location, please?’

  ‘Yes, yes.’ Sally huffed a little. She was more interested in watching the scene below than bothering with map coordinates. The helicopter banked hard and Sally and the pilot looked down. They saw a sudden white flash and an explosion that engulfed everything around it in dirty smoke.

  ‘Fucking hell!’ Sally began transmitting to the control room. ‘Explosion! There has been an explosion where activity was last seen. We no longer have visibility on the ground.’

  Sally picked up her me
dic kit and had the door open almost before they landed. She bent double under the blades and ran out through the whirling dust and smoke.

  Chapter 42

  Dover’s town centre was dead. Helen and Mick walked along the middle of the deserted high street between shuttered shops and ‘To Let’ signs.

  Helen had heard Mick speak to his handler from his sister’s house. They had been told to park in Stanhope Road in Dover. Helen had used a map to get them there. It was a steep hill with tightly packed terraced houses on either side. They were then instructed to walk the short distance to the town centre and down the high street towards the sea front. Mick was now awaiting further instructions.

  Mick was nervous, Helen could tell. He kept checking over his shoulder. He eyed the smokers loitering outside the pubs. None of them seemed to take any notice. They got to Market Square, where the road opened up into a square with a defunct water fountain over a stagnant pool.

  They crossed a road into a pedestrianised area that led away from the town centre towards the seafront. After a hundred metres or so the path sloped down into an underpass covered in graffiti.

  ‘Smells of piss,’ muttered Mick.

  Helen shrugged. ‘What underpass doesn’t?’

  They reached the bottom of the underpass and Mick’s phone rang. He cast a furtive look around and raised it to his ear.

  ‘Yeah?’

  He walked just far enough away from her that she couldn’t hear what he was saying. He spoke in a low voice. Helen leaned against the tiled wall. She was still limping, and her hands were cold. The hoodie she wore had been supplied by Becky, along with jeans that were a size too large. Becky had also unknowingly supplied Helen with a four-and-a-half-inch utility knife. Helen had deftly slid it out of the block in the kitchen when they’d sat down to eat their beans on toast. She kept it hidden in the front pocket of the hoodie.

  Mick came back, looking even more jittery than before. ‘We need to move.’

  ‘Do we have a final destination yet?’

  ‘No. We need to get back to the van.’ Mick stood still.

  Helen looked at him. ‘Are you okay?’

  ‘Yeah.’

  ‘Something the matter?’ Helen persisted.

  ‘It’s nothing. Maybe I’m just thinking too hard. I wouldn’t put us back in that van. It’s the one thing that can be linked to us.’

  ‘And why have us walk down here and then make us walk all the way back again?’

  ‘That part makes sense,’ said Mick. ‘Handlers often do that. I’ve sometimes been given the run around for days before a meeting. They walked us through an environment that was perfect for spotting anyone that might be following. They started us off in an area busy with traffic, and then into a pedestrian area that was much quieter. No one could have followed us in a car or on foot.’

  ‘I didn’t realise I was supposed to be looking out for someone tailing us.’

  ‘You weren’t. Neither was I. They would have their own spotters out. They must be satisfied that no one’s interested in us.’

  ‘Well, I’m very pleased for them. Walking isn’t particularly comfortable for me at the moment, you know,’ said Helen.

  ‘Are you going to be okay? Walking back, I mean. We will have to take a slightly different route or it might look odd.’

  She snorted. ‘To who? Those drunks at the pub?’

  ‘Who says they’re drunks? Assume nothing.’

  ‘Believe no one, check everything — the ABC of policing. I know, I know.’

  Mick didn’t smile. ‘In the undercover world, that might just keep you alive.’

  ‘And returning to the van?’

  He shrugged. ‘It’s not ideal, but we don’t have much choice. So can you walk okay, or not?’

  ‘I’ll be okay. Like you said, we don’t have a choice.’

  Mick tilted his head. ‘True.’

  * * *

  Lisa Jones waited with her hands on the steering wheel while Emily Ryker finished her call. Emily sighed.

  ‘He understands,’ Emily said.

  ‘Good.’

  ‘I still don’t understand why we’re meeting there. Why not just get them into the hotel like I planned? Then we could have walked Mick out separate. It would just take a couple of officers, and Helen’s in custody.’

  ‘You’ve done really well here, Emily. I know this is your first time handling a UC asset. It’s not an easy job. Our decisions come from a different perspective.’

  ‘I think I’ll stick to being a standard intelligence officer from now on.’ Emily sighed again.

  ‘You can do whatever you want after this, Emily. Pick your place, pick your job. We owe you that.’

  ‘So what now? We get Helen in custody and then sneak Mick out of the system? He gets a new life somewhere and a desk job?’

  Lisa shrugged. ‘If there’s one thing a UC asset is good at, it’s plan B. He’ll have the same option as you. We’ll look after him.’

  ‘And Helen? The press are going to be all over that when it comes out.’

  ‘People forget. This is the end, Emily. Once we get Helen Webb, the force can start healing. She’s the last open wound.’

  Emily nodded. ‘See you soon.’ She opened the car door and stepped out into a strong sea breeze.

  Lisa watched Emily walk away. ‘Well, not quite the last.’

  Chapter 43

  ‘This is it?’ Helen asked. They drove into a deserted car park at a beauty spot overlooking the English Channel. The busy port of Dover was clearly visible in the distance.

  ‘Yeah.’ Mick took the van as far into the car park as he could get. He backed up close to a mound of grass the same height as the van, effectively concealing it from the road.

  Helen took in the view. ‘Nice spot.’

  Mick shook his head. His tension had returned in droves.

  ‘Not where you would choose?’

  ‘No. Not where anyone would choose.’

  ‘Why? No one will see you with me, or when we meet the police. You’re hidden.’ Helen shrugged.

  ‘Covert policing is all about hiding in plain sight. It’s about having a believable cover story. We don’t have that up here.’

  ‘Best you don’t get seen then.’

  Mick’s phone rang. Helen went back to looking out of the window. This time Mick didn’t bother moving out of earshot.

  ‘Yeah. Yeah, we’re where you said. Yeah, she’s still with me. I thought it was best to keep hold of her, you see.’ Mick rolled his eyes.

  ‘Okay,’ he continued. ‘Now? I’m not so sure this is the best place, you know . . . Hello? Hello?’

  Mick lowered his phone. ‘Well, she don’t say much.’

  Helen exhaled. ‘This is it then,’ she said.

  ‘This is what?’

  ‘Where I get arrested.’

  ‘You’re already under arrest.’

  ‘You know what I mean. You don’t normally get taken to a family member’s house to have a bath and a new set of clothes.’

  ‘True. There won’t be much of that in prison. New clothes maybe.’

  Helen smiled. It made her cheek hurt. ‘Indeed. Thanks. For treating me okay. I know what you must think of me.’

  Mick looked ahead. ‘You have no idea.’

  ‘They’re not going to let you just walk away, you know. The Alcanis I mean. When they work out what you’ve done, they’re going to come after you.’

  ‘I know that.’

  She looked at him. ‘So why risk it all for me?’

  ‘It wasn’t for you.’

  ‘To bring me to justice then? You’re not one of those coppers that still believes in justice, are you?’

  ‘No. At least, not normally. But if anyone needs to face the justice system, Helen, it’s you. And besides all that, you provided me with an opportunity.’

  ‘How so?’ she asked.

  ‘A few days ago the Alcanis killed an informant. He worked close to me, and was doing a similar sort of thing f
or them. They killed him and his wife, and I got wind that they were looking for his extended family so they could really send a message. Out of nowhere. I don’t want to be looking over my shoulder, wondering if I’m next. At least this way I know they’re coming for me. And I become Lennockshire Police’s problem. With you in tow, they will have to protect me. They’ll owe me that.’

  ‘You really trust Lennockshire Police with your life?’

  ‘I’ve got a better chance with them than without.’

  ‘We’ll see,’ said Helen. She noticed Mick staring at her. ‘What’s wrong?’

  Mick took hold of her wrist, unzipped his jacket and removed a pair of handcuffs. He snapped one on her wrist.

  Helen snorted. ‘You’re joking! Fuck me, if I was going to run, I would have done it in that big open street, wouldn’t I?’

  ‘Maybe,’ Mick said. ‘But you’ve got a pretty bad limp and it would have drawn attention to us. I figure this is your last chance to give it a go. I don’t want to have to deal with that, Helen. I think you’ve had enough rough treatment for one lifetime.’

  ‘It’s not necessary, Mick. I’m beat. Where would I go?’

  Mick jerked his head. ‘Free.’ He took the other wrist and cuffed her hands together. He pulled off his jacket and laid it across her lap, covering the cuffs.

  He gestured at her door. ‘After you.’

  Helen hesitated for a second, sighed and climbed out.

  * * *

  The building works on Dover’s seafront were still in progress. Emily’s car was parked behind a hotel at the opposite end of the promenade from Lisa’s. She was glad of the walk, it would clear her head. The diggers and workmen had fallen silent. Soon the sun would disappear into the English Channel. She was in a reflective mood. Maybe she would sit for a while.

  ‘Any job. Any place.’ Emily shook her head. She wasn’t used to so much choice. She wasn’t sure if she liked it.

  Her thoughts soon turned to Mick — or whatever his real name was. She had never met him, but his situation was so precarious that she worried about him. She definitely wanted nothing more to do with the world of covert policing. Not for a while at least. The knowledge that a simple mistake could have a massive impact on someone else’s life was too much to take.

 

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