Terminal (Major Crimes Unit Book 4)

by Iain Rob Wright

  Mandy nudged Sarah, seeming to want permission to talk. She nodded, so he cleared his throat to speak. “Um, boss? It’s Mandy.”

  “Mandy, is everything okay?”

  “Right as rain, but listen, I reckon I might have spotted Ivanov’s guys a few minutes before they made their move.”

  There was a brief pause before Thomas spoke again. “What do you mean?”

  “On the motorway, I thought I saw a white van following us. I saw it again in Watford, so I walked on over and hid in the entranceway to one of those nail bar thingies. The van had its windows rolled down, so I overheard the occupants talking.”

  “You left the car to investigate? That’s unlike you, Mandy.”

  Mandy appeared irritated by the statement, but he kept it out of his voice. “There was no one else around, and I have field certification like everybody else.”

  “Of course. Okay, Mandy. What did these men in the white van say?”

  “They had pretty thick accents, but I heard them say something about…” Mandy suddenly turned to Sarah in a panic. He had clearly only planned so far ahead.

  “A garage,” said Sarah, knowing Maxim owned several and that it would add plausibility to the made-up narrative.

  Mandy nodded and silently thanked her. “That’s right,” he said. “They mentioned a garage. Said they were going to deliver the cargo there. At the time I assumed they meant car parts, or maybe even drugs, but…”

  Thomas cleared his throat. “But they might have been talking about Oliver Simpson?”

  “Yeah, I think so. Anyway, when they took off in the van, I got back in the car and went after them. Good thing, too, because Sarah was seconds away from a shotgun blast to the face.”

  “He saved my life,” said Sarah, smiling warmly at her colleague. “Not for the first time.”

  “Good work, Mandy,” Thomas said. “I’ll act on this new information right away, but in the meantime, both of you sit tight and wait for help to arrive.”

  “It already has,” said Sarah, staring out the shattered passenger side window at the armed police officer approaching. Astonishingly, it was the man who had taken the Russian prisoner out of her custody earlier.

  Matt with SCO19. What are the odds?

  When Matt saw her, he frowned. “Agent Stone?”

  “Got to go,” said Sarah, and she ended the call with Thomas. Smiling awkwardly, she leant an elbow on the windowsill. “I understand you’re probably going to want some answers, but do you mind if I make a quick five-minute call? I’m not going anywhere, I promise.”

  Matt chuckled, looking even more handsome than before. “I suppose you’re not. Okay, go ahead, but do I need to call an ambulance first?”

  Sarah checked herself over and shook her head. “We’re both fine. I really need to make that call.”

  Matt nodded and stepped back.

  Mandy had come up with the plan on the fly, and while they hadn’t discussed it, Sarah knew exactly what to do next. She made a call to a certain friend who lived above a petrol station.

  “Hey, Bernie,” she said once the line opened. “You there?”

  “Is that you, Freddie?”

  “Yeah, you busy?”

  “I wish. What do you need? You’ve never called me directly before.”

  “It’s an emergency. Is that wiretap I installed on Brody’s phone still active?”

  “Brody?” He paused for a moment. “Oh, yeah, the Homeland thing. Um, yeah, he’s still using the same phone. In fact, he’s connecting a call right now.”

  “We need to listen. Our faithful driver fed Brody some breadcrumbs. Now I want to see where he shits them out.”

  “Okay, hold on. I’ll put you on loudspeaker.”

  Sarah and Mandy sat back and waited. He looked at her quizzically. “Freddie?”

  She pointed to her scars. “Krueger.”

  “Oh. And Bernie?”

  “Think about it.”

  “Okay,” said Howard. “I’m opening the wiretap software now. Can you hear?”

  Thomas’s voice came over the radio, clear as day.

  “Yeah, we’ve got it. Turn it up.”

  “—idiots have got every police officer in the area searching for them.”

  “You put out an alert?” Maxim raged. “You fool. How did you allow this to happen?”

  “I had no choice. One of my agents is on the ground and your men shot at her. If I hadn’t put out the alert, she would have done it herself.”

  “Her? You speak of Agent Stone. Your woman?”

  Sarah grimaced.

  “It doesn’t matter who it was,” said Thomas. “What matters is that one of my agents surveilled your men and has a lead on their destination. There’ll be police officers at all of your garages within the hour. Just a heads-up.”

  Maxim bellowed down the phone, nearly incomprehensible for a moment. “This is unacceptable. If any more of my men are apprehended, I will hold you accountable. Do you know how hard it was to clean up today’s mistakes? The Mad Scot is not someone I enjoy having to thank.”

  Sarah and Mandy looked at each other.

  Mad Scot? Never heard of him, but is that who murdered my prisoner?

  “I understand, Maxim, but I told you not to get involved in this. The MCU has a lot of moving parts. I can’t always do what you’re asking. It’s unrealistic for you to expect so.”

  “Then perhaps we should rethink our friendship.”

  “Fine.” Thomas sounded defiant. “You want to kill me or expose me, then do it, because I’ve had enough. I promise you, though, that I’ll take you down with me, you fucking psychopath.”

  Sarah was surprised by what she was hearing. Mandy appeared conflicted as well. Thomas was their enemy, but he had also been their colleague for the last five-plus years.

  Silence filled the line. It sounded as if the call might have ended, but then Maxim spoke again. There was a haughtiness to his tone, replacing some of the fury. “My brother, we have been through much together, no? Perhaps I have shown you too little respect. Inside that sad little shell that came to me from desert is heart of bear. That is good.”

  “I’m not being your puppet, Maxim.”

  “I understand. A bear can only be poked so many times before he bites, no? You are meant for better things, Thomas. I shall free you from shackles.”

  Thomas flooded the line with breath – either from relief or frustration. “Good.”

  “Yes. I see you are conflicted about role in life. You are bear who thinks is pig, and you are man in love, greatest of all weaknesses. I shall fix for you.”

  “What? What do you mean, Maxim?”

  “I shall render heart free so that you and I can do great things together.”

  “Maxim, if you touch her, I’ll kill you. I’ll take you apart, piece by piece.”

  “Thomas, brother, calm yourself. We have business, so let us focus on that for now. I shall have Cosmo travel to my place in Beaconsfield. You will divert any attempts to intercept him, yes? If he does not reach destination, your failure will convince me you are too much a pig, and I will be forced to remove distractions.”

  “Maxim…”

  “Are we still brothers, Thomas?”

  Silence. Then: “Yes.”

  “Blago.”

  The call ended.

  Howard came back on the radio. “Want to tell me what that was about? Sounds like trouble.”

  “Mandy set Thomas up,” said Sarah. “We told him we had intel about Maxim’s men. We guessed he would call Maxim to warn him about it.”

  Howard chuckled. “And now you actually know for real where they’re heading.”

  “It worked like a charm. Do we have intel on any businesses in Beaconsfield linked to Maxim?”

  “Hold on, let me check.”

  A minute went by. Sarah tapped her foot in the footwell, which had been misshapen by the crash. Matt caught her attention and then tapped his watch. Sarah nodded and mouthed an apology.


  “Okay,” said Howard. “There’s a business on the drug squad’s radar as a suspected hub for county line gangs and cannabis production. We haven’t linked it to Maxim, but it’s all I’ve got.”

  “Maxim has been pushing out the competition. If the drugs squad is sniffing around the business, then it’s worth visiting. Give me the address.”

  Howard shared the details and Sarah inputted them into her phone. Outside, Matt was taking a call in his earpiece. A moment later, he started pulling at the Range Rover’s passenger door handle.

  “Shit,” said Sarah, pocketing her phone. “Looks like our time is up.”

  She released the lock and allowed the officer to open the door. When she tried to get out, her body creaked painfully, and she had to reach out for support. Matt helped her, but he had an impatient look on his face. “There’s been a new alert,” he said. “There’s a shootout in progress at the east end of town. I need to wrap this up.”

  Sarah rolled her eyes. “White van? High priority target, right?”

  Thomas is moving everyone east while Maxim’s men escape west. Puppet.

  Matt raised a silky black eyebrow at her. “Yeah, that’s right. I need to get you squared away so I can deploy my team. SCO19 is the only armed unit in the area.”

  “I’m surprised you’re still on duty after what happened earlier.”

  “What do you mean?”

  “I mean, you took my prisoner and then let him get murdered.”

  He looked at her as if she were mad. “What are you talking about? Murdered?”

  Sarah grunted, sick of playing games with stupid men. “Someone hit the transporter. The prisoner was shot. You really expect me to believe you don’t know anything about that? He was in your care.”

  “No! No, he wasn’t. I had orders to hand the prisoner over to a special detachment working directly under the Home Office. Last time I saw the prisoner, he was in handcuffs and very much alive. Nobody told me anything about a shooting.”

  Sarah considered his argument. Someone in the Home Office was definitely helping Maxim, but there was a question mark over this officer’s ignorance. He was only a squad leader. It’s possible no one had bothered to update him.

  I forget how much bureaucracy there is outside of the MCU.

  Most guys just follow orders.

  “Matt?”

  “Yeah.”

  “I’m going to take a punt and trust that you’re one of the good guys, okay?”

  He frowned. “What else would I be?”

  “A lot of things, but that doesn’t matter right now because I need your help. Do you want to help me take down a corrupt official and a Russian crime boss, all in one fell swoop?”

  He was still frowning, and the expression only deepened. “I’m not sure. Do I?”

  Sarah smirked. “Yes. Yes, you do. I need a lift and ten minutes of your time.”

  Chapter Seven

  Oliver shook like a leaf in the back of the van. His kidnapper had punched him in the jaw before slamming the door, and it had knocked him unconscious. When he finally came back around, the van was moving and he was lying in darkness. He’d been punched before – by various school bullies – but he’d never been knocked out, and it left him nauseated and teary-eyed. His jaw throbbed. He still didn’t know what his kidnappers wanted with him.

  It must be because of what I did. They want revenge.

  I killed so many people.

  Oliver was clueless about where he was being taken, but it couldn’t be anywhere good. Strangely, he found himself wishing for the woman with the scarred face. Sarah had been after him all day, yet he hadn’t felt threatened by her. Despite the punishments awaiting him, it had been a relief when he had finally surrendered.

  But she let me down. She let those men take me.

  He lay back on his elbows and tried to see. The cargo bay was empty aside from a dirty scrap of carpet and a rickety wooden pallet. Bits of rope hung from hooks along the wall, but there was nothing useful. Even if there was something he could use, Oliver was no fighter. He was incapable of fighting off a gang of thugs.

  I thought my life was boring. Now I would do anything to get it back.

  The drive seemed to last forever, his world comprising only blank metal walls and the thrum of an engine. His hands stank of oil. His trousers stank of stale piss. Now and then, voices mumbled from up front.

  He was partially relieved when the van finally came to a stop, glad to be free of the boredom, but he also knew things would only get worse from here on out. His future was nothing but pain and fear.

  He scooted up against the cargo bay’s rear wall and brought his knees up to his chest. Footsteps sounded. The rear doors swung open. Oliver shielded his eyes, anticipating a flood of light, but only silvery moonlight came in. He tried to speak, but two men leapt inside the van and grabbed him. Ignoring his protests, they tossed him outside and sent him tumbling to the ground. He landed on his knees and elbows, shedding skin against the coarse ground. He immediately leapt to his feet and tried to run, but the man who had knocked him unconscious appeared and kneed him in the stomach. A pain Oliver had never experienced before exploded in his guts and he couldn’t breathe. He was going to die. The three large men stood over him. They did nothing to help him.

  I’m in Hell.

  The pressure in his chest grew and grew. It felt like he was going to burst, but then a stunted yelp escaped his lips and glorious air rushed into his lungs. For several seconds he was a gasping lunatic on the floor, taking in every molecule of oxygen he could get. Eventually, he rolled onto his side and went still, praying the violent men would leave him alone.

  But they didn’t.

  “On your feet, computer boy.” His kidnappers dragged him to his feet and marched him towards a large building with dozens of broad windows. It was a factory, standing alone in a massive courtyard and backed by tall trees. Oliver couldn’t be sure, but it felt like they were in the middle of nowhere.

  They’re going to chop me up and hide the pieces.

  Or bury me alive.

  What if they lock me in a basement and leave me to starve?

  A flash fire ignited in his guts, and he tried once again to make a run for it. But before he even made it two steps, the three men tossed him to the ground and kicked him repeatedly. He curled up in a ball, screaming and crying, and trying to block out the agony and obscene laughter. It seemed to last forever.

  But then a deep voice bellowed and the assault stopped.

  Aching, Oliver looked up to see a figure walking towards him. Only a shadow at first – a thick body on short legs – but the moonlight eventually revealed a snorting bull of a man who the others clearly feared. “This is not how we treat guest,” he said, offering Oliver a hand with many thick rings. “I am Maxim, but you can call me Max. You are Oliver Simpson, no?”

  Oliver tentatively took the man’s hand and got back to his feet. He dusted himself off and winced at his bruises. “Wh-What do you want with me?”

  The short, stocky bull glared at him, but then bellowed with laughter. He patted Oliver on the back and spoke something in a foreign language before speaking English. “You are very talented boy and I want to offer job. Work hard for Maxim and Maxim take good care of you. This, I promise.”

  “The police are after me. All of them.”

  “Ha, you leave to me. I do not let friends go to prison – especially not young men with magic power to crash planes.”

  “You know what I did?”

  “Yes, Maxim knows. This thing you do, is impossible, no? But you do anyway. You do the impossible. Magnificent, that is what you are.”

  Oliver realised he was smiling, but he quickly chided himself for it. “I killed people. A lot of people.”

  “So what? Men die. I do not believe in tragedy. The world is battleground. Do not waste time mourning strangers. Think of self, and glorious future with Maxim. We will be great family.”

  Oliver eyed the three men who had kidnap
ped him. They certainly hadn’t acted like family, but the prospect of them being on his side made him feel a lot safer. “You’ll protect me? Keep me safe?”

  “Safe, rich, and carefree.” Maxim covered his heart. “You have word.”

  “And ours,” said the man who had knocked him unconscious in the van. “I am Uncle Cosmo. Your enemies are my enemies.”

  Maxim grinned. The flash of a gold tooth chilled Oliver’s blood. “You see? Nobody will mess with you. You will become scary man. Man people fear.”

  Oliver swallowed, wondering what would happen if he said no. Deep down, he already knew the answer. “What do you want me to do?”

  “Ah, that is for later, no? Take job and we start great journey together. You want girls, money? Papa Max give to you all. What do you say?”

  When Oliver considered his options, it was easy to choose. “I say yes.”

  Sarah thanked her police escort and staggered across the MCU’s compound with Mandy, her body running on fumes. Mandy went to wait in the car pool, but Sarah took the lift down into the Earthworm. She nodded greetings to two dozen people on her way to the head section. Several times, members of her team tried to stop her for an update. She shoved them all away. There was only one person she was interested in speaking to.

  On duty, Thomas spent most of his time in the command centre, a cluster of executive offices and meeting rooms. Most of the walls were glass, with long Venetian blinds for privacy. The ones covering Thomas’s windows were drawn, but slithers of light between the slats betrayed that he was inside. Sarah didn’t knock, wanting to take him by surprise, hoping to catch him in the middle of an inappropriate phone call. But he was merely sitting there, staring at his computer screen. He looked pale, and he was obviously jumpy because he clutched his chest and whistled. “Sarah! You scared the life out of me. Ever heard of knocking?”

  Sarah widened her eyes and spoke quickly. “There’s no time. We need to assemble a strike team, right now. We have eyes on Maxim Ivanov.”

  Both of Thomas’s eyebrows tilted upwards. “What? What do you mean?”