“Didn’t help with the raid,” I muttered. Stephen hit me in the shoulder, none too gently this time. “Ow!” I protested.
“That wasn’t your fault, wasn’t anybody’s. We chose to trust Wooding, and she let us down. Now we’re smarter. It’ll be fine.”
I sighed, giving him an exasperated look. “Arguing with you is exhausting,” I complained. “I give in. You’re right. Everything will go perfectly to plan.”
He smiled. “I knew I’d wear you down.”
We got back to work after that, since Stephen was right about one thing; working every angle was the only way for me to feel more confident about the likelihood of this somewhat rushed plan working out like we wanted it to. For now, that was all I could control, and so I’d give it my best shot. Then I’d have to do like Stephen did and hope for the best.
The day seemed to both rush by and crawl at the same time, with Stephen and I scrambling to get everything under control before we headed out this evening.
As it was getting towards five, Stephen pointedly tapped the face of his watch.
“I know, I know,” I muttered. I was staring at the maps on my computer, trying to visualise exactly how things would play out.
“Darren,” Stephen said, “we need to get everyone together and go.”
I exhaled heavily, taking one final look before I shut down the computer. I had the map on a print-out, and on my phone too, so it wasn’t like I couldn’t study it again on the drive over, but it wasn’t that which made me reluctant to leave the station. Leaving showed that we were out of time, and the preparations we’d already done would have to be enough.
“It’ll be alright,” Stephen said as I gathered my things and stood up. We headed for Gaskell’s office to let him know it was time to move out.
“How do you know?” I said tiredly.
Stephen knocked his broad shoulder against mine. “Because you helped plan it, and I have faith. Come on, don’t doubt yourself now, okay?”
I forced a tight smile. “It’s not me, I doubt,” I teased, “it’s the staff I have to work with round here.”
Stephen grinned, looking more pleased than offended. “We’ll knock this out of the court,” he said, before knocking on Gaskell’s door.
He looked up when we came inside and gave us a nod. He’d put out a call for all the Leeds officers involved in the operation to congregate in the car park outside, so we could drive over together. With Stephen and I, there would be seven of us. We would be the only ones without weapons and were supposed to hang back until they had deemed the situation safe.
Riding over to the location that Wooding had specified, the van was deathly quiet just as it had been on the night of the raid. I took a deep breath and exhaled it out again. Stephen glanced sideways at me, but I didn’t meet his eyes. I badly needed this to work out. We needed a member of the gang to show us to Lydia, because who knew how much longer the little girl had, especially after the raids we’d done on the farmhouse. The kidnappers knew that we were on their heels, and what was to stop them ditching Lydia and making a run for it?
I shuddered. It didn’t bear thinking of.
A hundred doubts ran through my head as we drew up fairly near to the area we were supposed to meet at. There were a handful of people around, in the low, early evening light, and we stayed inside the van as we waited for six o’clock to get closer. It wasn’t usual to see armed police around here, or anywhere in England, and I knew that alarmed pedestrians could give away our presence if we left the van too early.
“Darren,” Stephen said, when it was ten to six. I silently shook my head at him. The kidnappers might be late, and we didn’t want to make our move too soon.
“Darren,” he said again, when there were only minutes to go. I shot him an irritated look.
“I know,” I said flatly, forcing myself to seem calm even though my heart was hammering. I looked at my watch again, synced to Stephen’s and every other officer here.
I stood up, making every eye here turn to me. Gaskell and a Leeds officer sat in the front. This was primarily my and Stephen’s operation, though, and they’d follow my lead.
“I’m going out. Only come out on my signal, understood?” I said, looking pointedly at Stephen as I did so. I didn’t want him out there in danger when he didn’t have to be.
“I’m coming,” he said.
“No, you’re not.” I thought of his kids and his wife and couldn’t picture having to be the one to tell them that Stephen had gotten shot.
But he ignored me, standing up. “Are you going to order me?” he said, quietly. “Because I’m your partner, and I’m not letting you go out there alone.”
My jaw clenched. Despite my fear for him, I was touched that he would insist on being there. I couldn’t make myself order him to stay here, either, because it would’ve driven an irreparable rift into our relationship. He was a grown man. If he wanted to put his life in danger, I couldn’t order him not to.
I gave a short, reluctant nod, turning around to open the van door and slip out. I didn’t open the door wide enough that any passersby could’ve seen the other officers inside, and Stephen followed suit.
Pausing at the open door, I spoke to the Leeds group inside. “When I call over the radio, we’ll do what we ran through. Fast as you can, alright?” I got nods in return, and satisfied, I shut the door behind me.
“You had to challenge me in front of all of them,” I snapped as I walked away, leaving Stephen to catch up with me.
“The alternative being leaving you out here without anyone to watch your six?” he said, just as sharply. “Yeah, I had to.”
I spun around to face him. “And your kids, Steph? Annie? What if something happens to you?”
He pressed his lips together. “This is my job. You’re my partner. I’m not shirking my duty.”
He walked on, heading towards the location that Wooding had instructed us to be at.
“Fine,” I sighed. I was still conflicted, and angry with him, but we couldn’t afford to be at odds right now. “We’ll discuss this later.”
He nodded. “Fine.”
We hung back at the street’s corner, not wanting to expose ourselves yet. This was the unremarkable street that Wooding had specified, and it was, thankfully, deserted.
I checked my watch, and so did Stephen. It was six on the dot, and the sky was dull with incoming nightfall, though the sunlight hadn’t disappeared just yet.
“We’ll wait until they show up,” I said to Stephen. I pulled out my phone to pretend to fiddle with it rather than making it obvious we were on the lookout. Stephen did the same, leaning back against the crumbly brick wall we were partially concealed by.
Subtly keeping an eye on the street, I scanned the area, taking in all the real-life details that no amount of studying Google Maps could give you. If we’d had more time, I would’ve wanted to scope out the place in person and done a run-through of the operation, but the timing hadn’t allowed for it.
“There,” Stephen said under his breath.
The street was residential and had a couple of cars parked up on the pavements, but the white van that pulled up looked suspiciously out of place. It crawled slowly down the street before coming to a rolling halt.
“We need them to get out,” I muttered, still pretending to look at my phone.
Stephen grunted. “They might turn and run when they don’t see Lawrence.”
“Lawrence said they searched for him last time,” I said. I was hoping badly that they’d follow the same pattern this time. Whilst we could follow the vehicle now we had it pinned down, and I’d primed the cops trained in high-speed pursuit in case of their being needed, I didn’t want this to have to come to a car chase. We wanted it wrapped up here, neatly.
My heart was racing in my chase as the seconds ticked by. I’d silenced my radio, not wanting the crackle to give us away, but my phone buzzed in my hands. I looked down at it. It was Gaskell, wanting to know what was going on.
Steph
en nudged my side just as I was about to reply, and I looked up sharply. The white van’s door slid open, and I didn’t wait to see who climbed out before grabbing my radio and pressing the button.
“Now,” I hissed into it. “Move now, quickly!”
Because I was listening for it, I heard the slam of the police van’s door being thrown open from a street away, and pounding footsteps signalled their approach. Gaskell and the Leeds head officer would hang back to put up police tape, hopefully stopping any pedestrians from wandering into the area. I’d told the Leeds lot very firmly that we weren’t to start a firefight, with stray bullets flying around who knows where, unless it was absolutely unavoidable. They were there as a precaution, not because I actually wanted them to shoot. I had a taser on my belt, as did Stephen, and we’d always go for nonlethal attack over any other method, unless they started actively shooting at us.
While we waited the long, long seconds for the Leeds police to show, two men had climbed out of the van and were looking up and down the street. They both looked irritated, like they didn’t want to be here, and they stalked down the street with scowls on their faces. Stephen and I kept back, out of sight, so that we wouldn’t spook them back into the van.
“Lawrence!” one of them yelled abruptly, making my heart jump in my chest.
At the very same moment, the Leeds police ran up behind us, and I nodded to them, sending them forwards. I knew that Stephen and I should hang back, but I couldn’t help but follow when the Leeds officers moved quickly out onto the street.
The two men from the van saw the police and gave an alarmed yell, both of them booking it back to the van. The Leeds police couldn’t move fast enough with their body armour whilst staying in some kind of formation, so I put on a burst of speed. I couldn’t let those two escape being brought in for a minute longer.
“Darren!” Stephen yelled behind me, but I ignored him.
The faster of the two gang members, who’d been closer to the van, dived inside whilst the other one lagged behind. I saw the van driver’s panicked expression and, before the second man could get in, the van suddenly reversed, screeching backwards down the street. It executed a clumsy turn at the end of the row of houses as the second man ran after it, yelling for them to stop. But they didn’t, the van member taking off down the road and leaving the other behind.
I pushed my legs hard, sprinting down the pavement after the man left behind, who’d seen me coming and started running. He wasn’t actually slow at all, I realised, he’d just been much further from the van when the Leeds police had charged in.
He ran now, clearly pushing himself hard, and I raced after him, skidding around the turn and pushing off again. This guy was younger than I was, skinny and fast, but I didn’t run almost every day of the week so that I could be out-paced by some stripling criminal.
“Darren!” I heard, fainter, as Stephen yelled after me again.
This was reckless, I knew, but I was sick of letting others go ahead of me. This bloke wasn’t getting away if I had anything to do with it.
My breath was sawing in and out of my lungs as my legs pumped beneath me, but I found the air to shout, “Stop! Police!” not that it did any good. This guy was only making things worse for himself by resisting arrest, but I understood the primitive desire to flee from capture.
I pushed on, pressing myself harder. I wasn’t the fastest runner out there, but I did have stamina. The younger man started to flag after we’d turned a couple of street corners and I saw him starting to look for some other way out. But there was nothing but York’s maze of streets, twisting and turning.
As I was fast closing the gap on him, the man looked back over his shoulder and tripped over an uneven slab of pavement. I was on him in seconds, and he lashed out at me, aiming for my head. My arm came up instinctively to block him, but I didn’t manage to avoid the kick he sent at my shin. It glanced off, but the pain of his boot heel slamming into my unprotected lower leg was temporarily blinding. I hissed, clenching my jaw.
The guy tried to scrabble back to his feet and away from me while I was distracted, but I lurched forwards to grab his jacket collar before he could, dragging him to his feet. I quickly patted his sides and found no weapon there, before I pulled his arms behind him and efficiently restrained him with the set of cuffs on my belt.
The guy was swearing under his breath, still panting from his running. I was breathing heavily, too, but it was beginning to level out.
“Alright,” I said gruffly. “Let’s move. You didn’t do yourself any favours by running, mate.”
“C’mon,” the guy whined. He was even younger up close than I’d realised. “I didn’t do anything.”
“We can discuss that at the station,” I said, firmly dragging him back towards where the police van was parked up, several streets away. It was too far to walk with a criminal in tow, but I could at least head in the right direction while I radioed in for the van to come to get us, which I did now. Standing still with the guy would’ve given him plenty of time to think about attacking me and making another pointless run for it, whereas walking with him kept him occupied.
He kept up a steady stream of threats, protestations of his innocence, and pleading as we walked and I ignored him. My leg didn’t feel like it was truly injured, but it was sure as hell throbbing painfully. I winced as I put weight on it. I was annoyed that this guy’s attack might stop me running for a day or so, but at least he hadn’t done any serious damage.
After radioing in where I was, it didn’t take long before the police van showed up, pulling up at the side of the road. Night had fully fallen now, and the orange street lamps were lit up. A couple of passersby shot us surprised, wide-eyed looks, crossing the road to get out of the way.
Stephen was the first out of the van, and I braced myself for his anger. “What the hell were you thinking?” he yelled at me, gesturing wildly.
I put out a hand and sent him a warning look. “We’ll discuss it later,” I said, my voice hard. He could air his grievances with me when I wasn’t holding a criminal, and without the Leeds police as our audience.
Stephen’s jaw worked, and he glared at me. “Fine,” he snapped, turning on his heel back towards the van.
Gaskell didn’t say anything as I climbed up inside, dragging my very reluctant prisoner after me. He tried to protest, pulling away, but my patience was running low, and I shot him an icy look.
“Get in the van.”
His eyes widened, and he finally let me tug him up and into the vehicle. Stephen shut the door behind us as I pushed the kidnapper into a seat and clicked his seatbelt over him before doing my own.
Gaskell set off back towards the station, and I sat back with a sigh, grimacing at the ache in my shin.
“Are you injured?” Stephen asked, observing my wince.
I shook my head. “Just a bruise.”
Stephen looked like he had a great deal to say, but in the end, he just frowned and sat back in his seat, staying silent. While the Leeds police chattered, loosening up now that the op was over, Stephen and I sat in tense silence. I gathered from what the other officers were saying that the white van was being pursued by the traffic police as we spoke, and they had a helicopter they could bring in if needed. It wouldn’t slip away.
That things had gone mostly to plan relieved me, but Stephen’s bad temper put a damper on things and got rid of any celebratory feelings I might’ve had.
Back at the station, Stephen and I booked in the guy I’d picked up. Once we left him to cool his heels in one of the holding cells, Stephen and I stood in silence.
“That was reckless and stupid-” he started.
“We couldn’t let him run-” I said, at the same time, and we both broke off.
Stephen stared at me, anger warring on his face. “How can you tell me to stay behind in the van,” he demanded angrily, “while you ran off after one of them!”
“You have your family-”
“He could’ve been carr
ying, Mitchell, did you even consider that? Did you even think?”
“He wasn’t. I can look after-”
Stephen gritted his teeth together, looking like he wanted to shake me. “What, look after yourself like you did last time?” he yelled. “When you ended up in hospital?”
I clenched my jaw. “That was different,” I snapped, stepping forwards. “What should I have done, exactly? Let him run off? He might know where Lydia is, Steph! And she could be starving right now, terrified and alone and what? I should’ve let him go?”
Stephen and I glared at each other.
“Both of you,” Gaskell’s voice, loud and stern, made both of us look around. “In my office.” He stood in the doorway, frowning at both of us. Several officers were looking our way, I realised. Our argument had gotten a little louder than I’d intended.
Gaskell nodded towards his office and Stephen and I traipsed after him, neither of us looking at the other.
“Firstly,” Gaskell said, as soon as we’d sat down, “what the hell were you thinking, Mitchell?”
I could sense Stephen’s vindication at Gaskell being mad at me and I clenched my jaw in annoyance.
“I was thinking, sir,” I ground out, “that no way were we letting that little-” I cut myself off before I could finish that. “No way I was letting that man get away,” I corrected myself.
Gaskell looked at me for a long moment, before he nodded. “It was reckless, but I understand. Good work on collaring him.”
I released a breath. “Thank you, sir,” I said stiffly.
“He could’ve been killed,” Stephen said, sitting rigidly in his seat. “We know the gang is armed. Sir.”
Gaskell looked at Stephen. “Mitchell assessed the risks and decided that it was worth it. And that’s what you did in the van, no?” He raised his eyebrows. “Speaking disrespectfully to your partner in front of the Leeds officers like that wasn’t a good look, Huxley.”
Stephen winced. “Sorry, sir.”
“But I’ll let it slide, as I’m letting Mitchell’s misdemeanour slide, because you both meant well. Understood?”
We nodded like chastised school children, though I could feel that Stephen was still coiled with anger. It was coming from his concern, I realised that, but it didn’t make it easier to deal with.
The Stolen Children Page 23