Hunting the Wrecking Crew: An Eric Stone Novel

by Nick Albert

  “Got it.”

  “Linda, are you ok?” Stone asked softly.

  “Yes!” she snapped, then immediately she spoke more gently, “I’m sorry — I’m fine.”

  “Listen…That security guard had pictures of all of us. That includes you, Linda. They know what you look like, so keep your eyes open. Lock the doors, and if you see someone suspicious, just drive away. Ok?”

  “Don’t worry, I understand. And Eric…”

  “Yes?”

  “I love you.”

  “I love you, too.”

  “I love you both,” Carter cut in, “but can we please get on?”

  Linda blew another raspberry.

  Stone climbed off the escalator onto the first floor just in time to see the back of the fake security guard as he walked into the men’s toilet. He jogged across the concourse and walked in through the same door just a few seconds later. Pushing through the door into the apparently empty toilet, he saw something flash in his peripheral vision. Acting instinctively, in one smooth movement Stone blocked the blow and turned into the attack. A baton bounced off his raised forearm, causing some pain, but no significant damage. The security guard was temporarily thrown off balance, and Stone took the initiative by driving his fist into the man’s face. There was a satisfying crunch of breaking bone, and the man staggered backwards with his nose streaming blood.

  It was a solid punch and Stone half-expected the man to go down, but he was obviously made of sterner stuff. With a shake of his head, he roared, and charged forward again. Stone ducked under the swinging baton, and as the attacker staggered by, he countered with a sharp kidney punch. Enraged, the fake security guard spun on his heel and charged again. Unable to avoid this third attack, Stone was driven backwards into an open cubicle, where he slid downwards until he was sitting on the toilet seat. With no room to manoeuvre or escape, Stone was suddenly at a dangerous disadvantage.

  Street fighting is very different from traditional martial arts. Close combat is a dirty and uniquely violent engagement, where quick wits and aggression can overpower skill and training. This time there was something else to consider. Just one look into his assailant’s eyes, told Stone that this attacker intended to kill him. He had seen that look before. There was no logic behind that wild stare, and no compassion — just a lust for death and destruction. Stone knew, without any doubt at all, that he was fighting for his life.

  Although he was too close to effectively use the baton, out of inexperience or anger, the guard continued to try to club Eric on the head. After the first two swings missed, he casually placed his left hand on the toilet roll holder for balance, and leaning forward, chopped down with the baton as hard as he could. Stone knew that his one chance of survival was to gain the upper hand quickly. With no room to move, he did the only thing he could. Stone took the massive blow on his left forearm, and then grabbed the guard’s broken nose with his right hand. Holding as tightly as he could, he viciously twisted and pulled at the man’s nose, grinding the broken bone and cartilage together.

  Years of training had given Stone’s fingers immense strength, and even though his hand was slippery with blood, he was not about to let go. The guard let out a shrill scream and instantly dropped the baton. Then he started to claw frantically at Eric’s hand. Seeing an opening, Stone stood and jabbed the stiff fingers of his left hand into the attacker’s eyes. Temporarily blinded and in terrible pain, the guard spun away from the attack. The fight was not over; Stone knew that he had won but a temporary reprieve.

  When the man presented his undefended back, Stone quickly looped his left arm around his neck, and pulled him into a chokehold. As he fell back onto the toilet seat, Stone raised his knees into the base of the guard’s back. Then he used his right arm to pull his left forearm tightly across the man’s neck. With his knees preventing the guard from gaining any purchase with his feet, Stone was easily able to choke him into unconsciousness.

  No longer concerned about the welfare of his attacker, Stone maintained the chokehold for another minute, until he was sure that the man was either comatose, or dead — he didn’t check to see which. Luckily, nobody had tried to enter the toilet during the fight, so he was able to lock the cubical, vault over the door, and then wash his hands and leave, without being seen.

  Flexing his battered left arm to try to restore some feeling, Eric clicked ‘send’ on his radio.

  “Two down,” he whispered.

  “Well done,” Carter replied. Linda didn’t comment.

  Just then, the small walkie-talkie that Stone had taken from the first security guard crackled into life.

  “Check in please — has anyone seen anything?” a cultured English voice asked.

  There was a solitary reply.

  “Jerry here. Nothing yet.”

  Stone considered making a witty comment, or pretending to be one of the other security guards’, but he quickly dismissed the idea. For now, he preferred to keep the enemy guessing.

  “Steve? Mike? Have you seen anything?”

  Silence.

  “Steve? Mike? Are you receiving?”

  More silence.

  “Jerry? Can you go and check on Steve and Mike, please?” the cultured voice asked politely.

  “Ok,” Jerry replied in a slightly exasperated tone.

  Stone quickly did the math, turned on his heel, and walked purposely towards the fire exit. He had decided that although there were three ways for Jerry to reach the first floor, the lift, the escalator, or the rear fire exit, the fire exit would be his most likely choice. He reasoned that the lift was for old ladies, and cardiac patients, not fit aggressive men. The escalator was too exposed, being glass sided and in the centre of the mall. Therefore, the fire exit stairs was Jerry’s most probable route. Eric figured that he had an 80% chance of being right.

  Once through the fire door, Stone went down the stairs two at a time until he reached the lower landing, then he stood back from the door and waited. Five seconds later Jerry burst through the fire exit, still clutching his walkie-talkie. Seeing someone at the bottom of the stairs, apparently coming in the opposite direction, he did the British thing. He stopped, politely stepped to the side, and mumbled ‘Sorry’. Then he looked at Eric’s face and his eyes were suddenly wide in surprise and recognition.

  Stone reacted first. He took one quick stride forward and side-kicked Jerry’s leg, cleanly snapping the knee joint. Jerry screamed in agony, dropped his walkie-talkie, and fell to the floor clutching at his shattered leg. Stone casually stamped on the walkie-talkie until it was just a pile of shattered pieces, then he leaned forward and spoke in a voice as cold as steel.

  “If you want to live, stay here.”

  Jerry, already pasty faced and sweating, nodded feebly in response. Stone stepped through the door onto the ground floor of the mall, and called Carter again.

  “Three down.”

  “I can see a woman sitting outside the coffee bar,” Carter said, “I think it’s her.”

  “I see her,” Stone replied. “Let’s go and have a chat.”

  Carter arrived first, taking a seat and shaking hands with the woman. As Stone walked up, Carter turned and made the introductions.

  “Eric. Allow me to introduce Helen Atkins.”

  Stone circled around and stood behind Atkins, casually placing his hands firmly on her shoulders. It was a dominating and intimidating position, but one that an outsider would simply see as a loving husband standing behind his wife. She stiffened under his grip. Stone leaned forward and spoke quietly in her ear.

  “In a minute you’re going to stand up and walk with us to my car. When we get there you’re going to tell me everything you know about the Wrecking Crew.”

  “I will not!” She said firmly.

  Stone and Carter shared a smile. Atkins had not asked what they were talking about, or attempted to deny her knowledge of the Wrecking Crew. She had simply refused to co-operate. Helen Atkins was a member of the Wrecking Crew! Stone le
aned a little closer.

  “Look around you, Helen. You’re on your own here. Your security men are all taking a little nap, and I have a very sharp knife.”

  He tightened his grip on her shoulders.

  “Did you ever hear of cutting off your nose to spite your face?”

  She turned her head desperately; eyes wide in fear, but seeing no hope of rescue, her shoulders soon slumped in defeat.

  “What do you want?” she whispered.

  “Stand up and walk to my car, it’s in the car park behind you. If you do as I ask, you will not be harmed. You have my word.”

  She stood stiffly. Carter quickly stepped forward and took her arm, as if to provide some support for someone feeling a little unwell. Stone walked a few paces behind, where he could keep an eye out for any attackers, and be ready in case Atkins decided to run. As they entered the car park, Helen Atkins turned defiantly and glared at Stone.

  “You can’t win. You’re going to die. He won’t let you win — he never will.”

  “Who won’t?” Carter asked, “Who won’t let us win?”

  Helen Atkins said nothing, until they reached Stones car, then she pointed and smiled.

  “You see — you can’t win,” she sneered.

  Stone looked into the car and recoiled in shock. It was empty. Linda had disappeared.

  SIXTEEN

  Three times, Stone called Linda on the radio. Three times, he listened to static. He stood on the car’s doorsill, and searched the car park in desperation, but there was no sign of her. Helen Atkins smiled cruelly.

  “She’s gone.”

  Stone quickly stepped down and grabbed her by the hair with such ferocity that Carter stepped forward to intervene, but he stopped when he saw the anger in Eric’s face. Atkins squealed as Stone forced her to kneel.

  “Where is she?” he asked through clenched teeth.

  “How would I know?” she hissed, “I was with you,”

  “Who has her?” Carter asked.

  “I expect he has. Him and his gorilla bodyguards.”

  “Names…Give me names!” Stone shouted, shaking her head.

  “Eric!” Carter warned, “Ease off.”

  Stone slowly let go of her hair, but his eyes retained their look of murderous intent. Atkins stood up shakily and looked at the two men, as if she were assessing her situation. Then she sighed.

  “Look…he hasn’t got a name. We’re only allowed to call him ‘Boss’ or ‘The Fixer’. He has two bodyguards; they’re from Russia or somewhere. They’re identical twins. He calls them ‘Kitten’ and ‘Bunny’, but they’re big men, really big men — and nasty. If they’ve got her…”

  She shook her head.

  Any other questions instantly went out of his mind, when there was a crackle from his radio earpiece. Linda’s voice spoke hesitantly.

  “Eric?”

  “Linda?”

  “Eric — I’m so sorry, I was— Ahhh!”

  Linda’s scream of pain made Stone’s heart skip a beat. A new voice came over the radio.

  “Eric Stone?” The Fixer said in a calm tone.

  “Who is this?”

  There was a pause.

  “I think you will address me as ‘Sir’,” The Fixer said.

  “Listen to me you useless piece of sh—”

  There was another scream. This time it was longer and louder.

  “I said…” The Fixer repeated slowly, “that you will address me as Sir. Is that clear?”

  Eric understood perfectly. Things had gotten out of hand for the Wrecking Crew. Three of their people were down, and now they had lost Helen Atkins. The Fixer wanted to regain control of the situation, and by hurting Linda, he was trying to establish his domination over Eric. Grim faced, Carter indicated that he had heard the conversation on his radio. He nodded for Eric to co-operate.

  “Yes, I understand…Sir,” Stone drew out the final word.

  “Good. That’s better.”

  The Fixer’s voice suggested that he had spoken the words with a triumphant smile on his face.

  “As you may have guessed Stone, I have your little girlfriend here. Now…I’m in a bit of a rush, so I must insist that you do exactly as I say, or I will slit her throat and dump her lifeless body in the gutter. Is that clear?”

  “Yes — Sir,” Stone said through clenched teeth.

  “Excellent!” The Fixer said condescendingly, “Now look to your right, over by the entrance to the car park. Can you see a black BMW?”

  Stone looked. About sixty metres away, just outside the car park barrier, a car was flashing its headlights. The car was close enough for Stone to see the shape of a man and a small blonde woman, but too far away to make out the faces through the tinted glass.

  “I see you.”

  Instantly, Linda screamed again.

  “You missed the magic word!”

  “SIR!” Stone shouted desperately, “I see you, Sir. Please don’t hurt her…”

  “That’s better,” The Fixer said.

  Stone shut his eyes. He felt sick with fear and anger. The Fixer spoke again.

  “Now — do exactly as I say. Let Helen go. If you send her over to my car, right now — I will let your little Linda live.”

  “Look…we’ll swap, I’ll let Helen go, and you release Linda…Sir,” Stone pleaded.

  The Fixer laughed.

  “No, you moron! There’s to be no negotiating here, I’m holding all of the cards! Let Helen go, or the girl dies!”

  Stone hesitated.

  “I’ll give you thirty seconds. Then I’ll slit her throat, dump her out of the door, and drive away. Afterwards you can run over here and try to stop the bleeding with your hands. It won’t work, but you can try.”

  Carter spoke urgently.

  “Eric, you have to do as he says. Do it NOW!”

  “OK — OK, I’ll let her go!” Stone shouted, “She’s coming now.”

  Stone pushed the woman towards the BMW. Atkins gave him a parting sneer of victory, and then she turned and walked away towards her freedom. The two men watched her in helpless frustration.

  When she was about twenty-five metres away from the BMW, Stone heard its engine start. Ten steps later, just as she entered the full glare of a streetlight, the car’s window slid down. Atkins suddenly stopped walking and held up her hands, as if trying to ward off some unseen menace. Stone clearly heard her say ‘Oh no!’, but as she began to turn away from the BMW, there was a pink puff from the top of her head. Like a puppet with the strings cut, she dropped to the pavement. Half a second later, the muffled sound of a silenced gunshot confirmed what had just happened.

  Before they could react, the BMW accelerated away, leaving behind the body of Helen Atkins, and a pink cloud of blood and brain matter, hanging eerily in the mist. Carter, ever the policeman, began moving towards the body — but Stone stopped him with a shout.

  “Leave her, Ed! Quick, get in the car — we have to follow, before he gets away. We have to rescue Linda!”

  With a nod of agreement, they jumped into the Audi. Fortunately, the key was still in the ignition, and the engine started first time. Stone stomped hard on the accelerator and the tyres scrabbled for grip as they shot forward. Almost immediately, he had to slow and put two wheels on the pavement, to get past the lifeless form of Helen Atkins. Then there was another frustrating delay, when they realised that they couldn’t get out of the car park without a validated ticket. It took three attempts to force a way through the barrier. Before it finally yielded, they broke a front headlight, scratched the bonnet, and cracked the windscreen.

  A few seconds later, they came to the junction with Bridge Street, Stone stopped, and searched for the BMW. Left or right — left or right?

  “Which way did he go?”

  Carter pointed to the left.

  “It’s a one way street, turn left. There he is…just ahead of the blue car!”

  “Got it!”

  Stone spun the wheel to the left and accele
rated. In seconds, the powerful Audi topped sixty miles an hour, but then he had to brake hard, as the traffic ahead slowed for the roundabout. Stone craned his head to see over the queue of cars. The roof of the BMW was visible just sixty metres away. If the traffic had stopped, Stone could have jumped out of the Audi and run to the BMW in less than ten seconds, but the traffic kept moving, so he followed the queue.

  There was a blinding light, and the impression of a massive black shape approaching from the right. With an enormous bang, the side window and door exploded inwards, showering Stone in glass. A black Toyota Hilux had driven fast out of a side road and deliberately smashed into the driver’s side of the Audi.

  Even though the side impact airbag had deployed, Stone was winded and stunned. It took him a few seconds to understand that they had just been in an accident, and a few more to realise that the Toyota was still pushing them sideways. Over the huge bonnet of the Toyota, Stone could see the grinning faces and shaven heads of Kitten and Bunny. The tyres on the Audi groaned as the Toyota continued to push it sideways towards the edge of the road.

  “They’re trying to push us into the river!” Carter warned.

  Stone looked to his left and saw that they were actually on a bridge. They were just feet from being tipped over the edge, and into the dark waters below. He stamped on the accelerator to try to get away from the Toyota, but the impact had stalled the engine. As he turned the ignition key, a series of harsh clicks suggested that something important had broken.

  “Duck,” Carter said calmly.

  “What?”

  Carter smiled and waved the gun they had taken from Anton Stephens.

  “Duck down…please.”

  Stone folded forward as best he could. He felt Carter leaning on his back to steady his aim. Almost instantly, there was a squeal of tyres and a crunch as the Toyota wildly backed in to a road sign. Carter patted him on the back, and he sat up just in time to see the dented rear of the truck as it raced after the BMW. They watched helplessly as the two cars negotiated the roundabout and sped out of sight. Linda was gone.