“Save that until later,” said Ryan. “We need to figure out what we’re going to do.”
Jules got back on her phone. “Carter, pull the van over. We need a pow-wow.”
Her response was a derisive laugh. “I’m going to drive the lot of you off a fucking cliff,” he said before hanging up.
She stared at her phone. “Great, another fucking lunatic. He’s going to do to us what McGinnis did to Amber, only we’ll be going over the cliff in a Ford Transit.”
“We need to get out of this van ASAP,” said Shane.
Bruiser shuffled to the back of the open door and leaned out, cocking his shotgun.
“What are you doing?” said Jules.
“Hang on,” he told them.
“Into the corner,” yelled Ryan, ushering Jules to the back left corner of the van and wrapping her in his arms. “Lay yourselves flat against the back wall.”
Bruiser fired the shotgun, the noise deafening, taking out the back right tyre.
Immediately the rear of the van fishtailed, the vehicle shifting from side to side. The brakes were slammed on, which was the worst thing Carter could have done. With a squeal the van tipped onto its left side while still travelling down the road at speed, the shriek of metal deafening. There was nothing to hang onto so they all grabbed onto each other as the van left the road and slid down a steep embankment. Jules was almost crushed in Ryan’s embrace as his arms tightened around her to prevent her from being flung around the van. Shane wasn’t so lucky and was thrown against the opposite side, hitting the metal panel with a resounding bang.
“Where’s Bruiser?” cried Jules, seeing the spot where he’d been crouched was empty.
The van continued to slide, dull thuds echoing around them as it carved a path through the undergrowth. As the world spun on its axis, all Jules could register was the thump and bangs that threatened to rend the van in two and her own frantic breathing. She saw Mark slide down the wall of the van before being catapulted onto the floor then thrown out of the open door.
There was a massive bang and the movement stopped just as everything went dark.
Something cold touched Jules’s face and she brushed it away.
“Get off,” she muttered, repeating the action when it touched her face again. The realisation that the thing touching her was cold and wet forced her to open her eyes.
Water was pouring into the van, which was tilting and bobbing. They’d fallen into a river and the van was sinking.
Sitting up she saw Ryan was sprawled on his front, unconscious.
“Wake up bruv,” she said, shaking him. When he didn’t respond she slapped him hard, his eyes snapping open. “We need to get out of here.”
“Christ,” he said, leaping up, the water up to his knees. “Where are the others?”
Jules spotted an arm and dragged Shane upright, who had almost been submerged by the water as he’d been lying face down. After a few slaps he too was roused, one side of his face badly bruised and swollen.
“Where’s Mark?” said Ryan.
“I saw him get thrown out of the van,” said Jules. “I’ve no idea where Bruiser is.”
Between them they dragged Shane, who was having trouble supporting himself, out of the van. They plunged into the icy water, so cold it took their collective breath away.
Disorientated from the accident, they paddled their way to the bank. The cold roused Shane and he managed to get himself to safety.
Ryan dragged himself out of the water first, helping Jules and then Shane. The three of them flopped onto the grass, panting and shivering.
“Everyone okay?” murmured Jules.
“Yeah,” said Ryan.
“I’ve got one hell of a headache,” said Shane. “But apart from that, yeah.”
“Hopefully Carter’s still in the van,” said Jules. “Choking on half the fucking river. I don’t believe it, he was so carefully vetted.”
“Maybe he was loyal at first?” said Ryan. “And then something happened to change his mind?”
“If it did then he was never loyal in the first place.” She reached into her jacket, took out the gun and cocked it. “Thank God, the water hasn’t damaged it.”
“Mine fell out somewhere,” mumbled Shane as his face continued to swell.
Ryan produced his gun and tried to cock it but it refused to work.
“Shit,” he said, tossing it into the river. “Mine’s ruined.”
“I don’t know how well mine will work,” said Jules, frowning at the weapon. “It’ll cock but it might not extract and eject a spent round. At least I’ve got one shot left in it.”
They watched as the van finally submerged beneath the water, vanishing from sight.
“That’s a deep river,” commented Jules. “Let’s hope it took Carter down with it.”
“What if it didn’t?” said Shane. “What if he’s still here?”
“Let’s get into the trees,” said Ryan. “We’re too exposed out here.”
As they rushed into the trees, Shane staggering along behind the other two, a bang filled the air and a puff of dirt flew up into the air beside him.
The three of them ducked behind a tree as more shots filled the air.
“What the fuck are you doing Carter?” yelled Jules.
“Nothing personal,” he yelled back. “This is just business.”
“What are you talking about?” Wordlessly she handed Ryan her gun and nodded at him. Shane had long ago grown used to their wordless conversations. Ryan nodded back and vanished into the undergrowth. Shane guessed Jules was going to keep Carter talking so Ryan could track him. They only had one shot.
“The Coalition is paying me big cash to take you out,” yelled Carter.
“All of us?”
“No, just you. The others were going to be collateral damage.”
“A refreshing motive I suppose,” retorted Jules. “I thought you were going to give me some melodramatic bullshit about wanting revenge for something.”
“Nope. Just cash.”
“We pay you a ton of cash you greedy arsehole.”
“But I had to work for it. The Coalition is paying me so much I won’t have to work ever again.”
“You’re a lazy bastard on top of being greedy.”
“At least I’m not a mouthy cow like you. You’ve no idea how many times I fantasised about sticking a knife in your fucking face you bossy tart.”
“Why don’t you come out of hiding and say that,” she yelled. “Or did you plan to have your big moment while cowering behind a tree?”
“Fine, I’ll come out,” he said, voice getting nearer. “I know that your guns got wet, so they’re useless. I got out of the van before it hit the water.”
“Well bully for you. And I’ve still got my blades. Get over here so I can stick one in your eye.”
“I’m getting closer,” his voice taunted.
“Good. I’m going to kill you nice and slow.”
She indicated for Shane to crouch down behind a tree. She crouched beside him and pulled her knives.
“Yeah, right,” called Carter. “You’ve just been in a car accident and been half drowned.”
“So go on then dickhead, who did you speak to in The Coalition?”
“All of them. Want to know their names?”
“That would be lovely.”
“Like I’d make it that easy.”
CHAPTER 47
Ryan kept low as he crept through the trees, following the sound of Carter’s voice. He was just up ahead, yelling back insults at Jules, who was doing a good job at keeping him distracted. He had to wonder at Carter’s ingratitude after how he’d been raised through the ranks.
Finally he spotted Carter, who was standing side-on to him, shouting from behind the shelter of a tree. Ryan had a perfect shot from where he stood. The gun was already cocked, he raised it, aimed and fired.
The gun jammed.
Ryan crouched down in the undergrowth as Carter whipped round,
the sound catching his trained ear. Jules’s voice was carried to them on the wind, demanding to know who was in The Coalition but he didn’t reply.
Ryan weighed up his options. Carter was armed and he was younger. The odds were on his side. However Ryan had faced worse odds in his time and come out the other side unscathed.
“I know you’re there,” said Carter, his voice drawing nearer.
Ryan peered around the tree trunk to see Carter taking aim at him. But he’d failed to notice Bruiser creeping up behind him, who could move with astonishing stealth for such a big man, his shotgun clutched in both hands, a nasty graze down one side of his face, his suit torn and dirty.
Carter froze when he heard the menacing click of the shotgun being primed. Before he could turn there was a boom and his left lower leg was blasted away from the rest of his body. With a horrified scream, Carter toppled to the ground. Despite the agony and shock he attempted to raise the gun but Bruiser kicked it from his hand. Carter’s nose then exploded beneath the force of the shotgun butt being rammed into his face.
Ryan straightened up, brushing some bracken from his jeans. “It’s safe,” he called.
“Nice one bruv,” said Jules, marching through the trees followed by a staggering Shane.
“It wasn’t me,” he replied.
Jules burst out laughing when she saw Carter rolling about on the ground with a mangled nose and minus a leg. “Not so fucking full of yourself now, are you dickhead?” She looked to Bruiser. “Great work. Glad to see you’re okay.”
He nodded in response.
“Have you seen Mark?”
Bruiser shook his head.
“Shit. We’ll sort out this tosspot then we’ll look for him. Right you,” she said, pressing her knife to Carter’s throat. “Who are The Coalition?”
“Fuck off.”
“You’re going to die Carter right here right now. How quickly and painfully depends on the answers you give.” Jules was unbelievably pissed off about this and her faith in her own instincts had been shaken. “We know Dwyer, Judge Bridges and the CPS lawyer are in on it. Who else?”
Carter attempted to spit in her face but the bloodstained phlegm landed on his own cheek, making Jules laugh.
“Try that again and I’ll cut your lips off. Now who?” She sighed when he remained silent. “I don’t have time for this shit. Let’s slit that tiny scrotum of yours wide open.”
“No,” he screamed when she moved the blade lower. He’d worked with Jules long enough to know she never made an idle threat. “Alright. Bruce Spencer and Chief Superintendent Holloway.”
“Anyone else?”
“No, I swear.”
She dug the tip of the blade into his jeans. “You wouldn’t be stupid enough to lie, would you?”
“No.” His body started to shake, eyes rolling back in his head.
“He’s going into shock,” said Ryan.
“Step back,” said Jules when Bruiser aimed the shotgun at Carter’s face.
They all leapt back just before he pulled the trigger, avoiding being splattered by blood and bone fragments.
“Urgh,” said Jules. “That’s going to take some cleaning up. Is anyone’s phone working? Mine’s shagged after being in the water.”
Bruiser nodded and handed her his phone. The screen was cracked but it was working. After calling for their clean-up crew she called Dane, rolling her eyes when he answered and immediately began demanding to know what was going on.
“If you’d shut up for one second I could explain,” she snapped down the line. “Carter’s a treacherous bastard who intended to drive us off a cliff. We escaped but crashed into a river. I’ve arranged for a clean-up crew to come and scoop up the bits of him that have been splattered around the woods. We need transport to the clubhouse and bring fresh weapons, ours are shagged.”
“What’s your location?”
She looked around. “Err…”
Bruiser took the phone from her and rhymed off their location in latitude and longitude. When they all looked at him questioningly, he just shrugged and handed the phone back to Jules.
“I need you to do one more thing,” Jules told Dane.
“Because the list you’ve already given me isn’t long enough?”
“You wanted in on the inner circle, well welcome to paradise. Can you send a couple of your men to The Manor to torch the place?”
“What?”
“It’s been compromised. Carter might have told The Coalition all about it. We need it gone.”
“I’ll send them there immediately. Do you need me to do anything else? Build a new headquarters from scratch with my bare hands? Move the country a bit to the left?”
“Ha fucking ha. See you soon.” She hung up and looked to the three men. “Right, we need to find Mark. Let’s fan out for the search. And don’t wander off too far, we don’t want anyone getting lost.”
They ambled off in different directions, calling Mark’s name.
“Archie, you’re back,” panted Beth.
“The baby’s coming,” he commented.
“Yes, I know,” she said through gritted teeth before screaming with pain.
When Gillingham tried to draw his own gun, Archie aimed his at him. “Don’t.”
“Okay Archie,” said Gillingham, lowering his hands. “Whatever you say.”
Sensing Archie wasn’t going to start shooting, Mary knelt between her splayed legs, forcing down the shock. This was the most surreal and terrifying day of her entire life. “Okay Beth,” she said. “One more push and he’ll be out.”
Beth put all of her remaining strength into that final push and finally the baby slid from her body. Mary caught him and wrapped him in a towel.
“Wow, that’s a deafening cry,” she smiled, her eyes filling with tears as she gazed down at this brand new human being.
She passed him to Beth when she held her arms out for him, the umbilical cord still attached, then heaped towels over her lower half to hide her modesty.
“Hello baby,” Beth smiled at her son, his cries turning into a soft mewling now he was enjoying his mother’s warmth.
“So it’s definitely a boy?” said Archie casually, as though this happened on his living room floor every day, keeping his gun trained on Gillingham.
“Yes Archie. This is your brother, Ben.”
“Oh,” he said disinterestedly.
Gillingham took a step toward him. “Do you want to give me that gun Archie?”
“No.”
“You’re a bit young for a gun. If you give it to me I’ll lock it away safely. You don’t want a gun around a baby.”
“It’s my gun,” he retorted.
“Give him the gun Archie,” said Beth, turning cold with fear at the look in her son’s eyes.
“No, it’s mine.”
“It’s Riley’s.”
“Not anymore.”
“You’ve hurt people Archie,” she pressed. When she realised she was shouting she took a deep breath. “Please, give him the gun. Don’t hurt anyone else.”
Gillingham took another step towards him, hand out. “Come on lad, hand it over.” He went still when Archie raised his arm and aimed the weapon at him.
“Mum always says you should be careful what you wish for.”
The noise of the blast inside was deafening, startling everyone, including Archie. Ben started wailing again. Gillingham looked down at the widening patch of blood on his stomach before collapsing.
“No,” cried Mary.
Archie swung the weapon onto her. “Are you going to try and take my gun from me too?”
“Archie stop this, please,” cried Beth. “How many more people are you going to hurt?”
“You always care about everyone else before me. You took my dad off me. Now you’re trying to take my gun.”
“I didn’t take your dad from you. He left us.”
“No he didn’t.”
“Yes he did,” said Beth, wishing she could tell him mor
e but unable to in front of a police officer. “But you have a family who love you so much Archie. Stop hurting us and yourself and put the gun down.”
“They’d take me away and lock me up, like Riley threatened to do to me. But you don’t need me anymore. You’ve got another son now.”
Beth clutched Ben to her tighter when Archie’s cold stare landed on him.
“No,” she cried when he lifted the gun again. Still weak from the birth, all she could do was turn on her side, sheltering Ben with her body.
At that point the sound of sirens filled the air. Thinking it was the police come to take him away, Archie ran.
Mary leapt up, slammed the front door shut and locked it before racing through to the back of the house and locking the rear door too. Then she returned to the living room and knelt by her colleague, who was shaking on the floor.
“The siren is the ambulance,” said Beth. “Archie thought it was the police.”
Mary let them in, the paramedics shocked to find a bleeding police officer on the floor. One of them worked on him while the second cut the umbilical cord and checked over Ben and Beth. Five minutes after that the armed police showed up.
“We’ve stationed armed officers discreetly at your hotel,” said one of the officers. “One of us will accompany you to hospital. But he’s shot a police officer…”
“What are you trying to say?”
“He’s shot three people. This is getting out of control.”
“You’re not shooting my son if that’s what you’re hinting at,” Beth yelled at him from her stretcher. “He’s only fifteen and he’s not in his right mind.”
“We wouldn’t use excessive force but we are treating him as extremely dangerous.”
Beth opened her mouth to argue then looked at Gillingham being carried out on a stretcher, an oxygen mask over his face. They were right. Her son was out of control and he had to be stopped.
Rachel could see no external sign of an alarm. Neither had Dwyer seemed to pause to set one when he’d gone out, so she drove off, parked the car a few streets away and walked back, a baseball cap pulled down over her face, hair hidden beneath the hat, keeping her head down to avoid being spotted on any possible cameras.
She found the back gate leading into Dwyer’s garden was unlocked and she opened it into a beautiful and obviously well-cared for garden complete with bird bath and wishing well. She had thought the only thing Dwyer was creative in was conjuring up evidence against people but it seemed he was green-fingered too.
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