by Denis Byrne
That was all the Superintendent wanted to know. He fished out his mobile and called the Chief. ‘We’ve hit the jackpot. Call off the transfer.’ That was all the startled Chief of Police heard before the Superintendent rang off, all his frantic efforts to regain contact with his subordinate being met with an engaged tone.
‘Zap him again, Mr. Pearson,’ the Superintendent ordered as he pocketed his mobile. ‘It’s for your own safety, Nelligan,’ he said with a grin. ‘And it’ll keep you out of mischief for a while too.’
Mr Pearson duly obliged.
CHAPTER TWENTY-SIX
Despite being unable to get Superintendent Clifford back on line, the Chief of Police was ecstatic at what he’d heard. He made his way hurriedly towards the office of the Minister for Justice, striding purposefully, his chest inflated, both thrilled and relieved to be able to convey the good news he’d just received. As he turned the corner of the corridor leading to his destination, he collided with the Minister, who was just as hurriedly rushing back to the cabinet room to try and persuade his colleagues to transfer the ransom money. Both men were halted in their progress, the unexpected impact serving to make them bounce off each other like a couple of rubber balls. The Minister, being the smaller and lighter of the two, was sent sprawling on his backside to the floor. It was varnished teak, and it did nothing to either add to his dignity nor prevent his tailbone from receiving a painful jolt. The collision resulted in igniting his normal fiery temper into a raging inferno.
‘Carter!’ he yelled, scrambling to his knees, one hand clutching the base of his spine, the other clawing at the wall to drag himself erect. ‘You useless idiot! What in hell’s bells do you think you’re playing at? Aren’t things bad enough without you trying to cripple me?’
Carter rushed over to assist the Minister to steady himself. ‘Leave me alone, you incompetent nincompoop!’ He began to frantically brush down his immaculately tailored suit, straighten his glasses, then ran his fingers through his thinning hair. ‘Get out of my way! I’ve to get back to the cabinet room immediately. I wouldn’t be in this mess only for you! Time is running out and that - that tightwad controlling the purse strings in Finance is playing hardball.’ He glared at Carter with all the malevolence of a cornered rattlesnake. ‘I’ve just had a call informing me that I’ll be getting another one soon to tell me where the hostage’s bodies will be left if the ransom isn’t paid over soon.’
Carter, despite the dressing-down he’d just received, appeared remarkably smug about something or other. The Minister couldn’t believe it. He felt like slapping him across the face, but hadn’t the time right now.
‘Everything’s under control, Minister,’ The Chief said importantly, like Napoleon informing his listener of yet another successful campaign ‘The secret operation I’ve put in place is on the verge of completion. It’s only a matter of hours before my forces will have freed the hostages and captured the kidnappers.’ He paused to allow the information to sink into the Minister’s mind, drew himself up to his full height and, had he been a peacock, there’s little doubt he’d have displayed the magnificence of his fanned feathers into the bargain. ‘My men are closing in as we speak.’
The Minister looked at Carter in bewilderment. He was desperately trying to assimilate and decipher what he’d just been told. One half of his mind was doing a jig of joy, the other half still wary and disbelieving. He was fully aware Carter was everything he’d just called him and more besides, yet here he was, now telling him the case had been solved and that the Minister’s troubles were over. Which would result in his status being elevated to heroic proportions when he relayed the joyful tidings to every television set in the land. Letting the voters know that he, and not Carter, had personally supervised everything from the word go, that there had never been the slightest fear of the criminals getting away with it, would, without doubt, see him in line as the next leader of the Government, something for which he’d been striving towards from the first day he’d entered politics. The only trouble was that he’d have to accord some of the credit to Carter. It went against the grain, but if that’s what had to be done, so be it. The benefits to his own career would far outweigh the few words of praise he’d be forced to toss in the Chief’s direction.
He stared at Carter for another few seconds. ‘Are you sure?’ he asked with great deliberation. ‘Absolutely one hundred per cent certain?’
The Chief’s chest swelled yet a fraction more. Superintendent Clifford had never failed in an undertaking before. ‘You have my solemn word on it, Minister,’ he replied confidently. ‘I’ve been issuing instructions to the operation step by step.’ He looked as though he might burst like a balloon shortly as his ego swelled by the second. ‘There were certain things I couldn’t reveal even to yourself, Minister, until I was certain we had everything in place. The most innocent comment from either yourself or any of your colleagues could possibly have jeopardised the entire campaign.’
‘Yes, yes, all right! All right!’ the Minister intervened, more determined than ever to give him several slaps in the face when this was all over to put him back in his place. ‘What I want to know is when I can release a statement to the media?’
‘Anytime now, Minister,’ the Chief said confidentially. ‘I’ll inform you promptly as soon the kidnappers are in custody. Just leave everything in my hands.’
The Minister really felt like slapping him now instead of waiting till later. But refrained from doing so in view of how popular he himself was going to become very shortly. Minions like Carter could be put on the long finger while he savoured the lion’s share of the plaudits. He could hardly wait to get back to the cabinet room to relay the news of his success. The faces of those of his colleagues who’d been revelling in the catastrophe he’d been plunged into should be worth watching as they strove to disguise their disappointment when he revealed all. And, as for that Scrooge in Finance, he knew exactly what he could do with the five hundred million now.
‘Now listen, Carter,’ the Minister said earnestly, doing his best to sound as reasonable as possible. ‘I want to know the very second these people have been apprehended. You understand?’ He straightened his tie before heading for the cabinet room with a lighter spring in his step than he’d had for quite some time. ‘The very single second!’
*
Not long after Myles Moran had concluded his brief conversation with the Minister, he was once again disturbed by the buzzing of his in-house speaker-connector. He was in two minds whether or not he should ignore it. He glanced at the screen. Miss Conway. It must be something of importance. She certainly wouldn’t have been contacting him again otherwise after his earlier rebuke. ‘Yes, Miss Conway,’ he said patiently, depressing the button. ‘What is it this time?’
‘ We’re got big trouble, Boss,’ Ann a said. ‘The police are on to us. Those tramps out there aren’t who they’ve been pretending to be. And they know the hostages are here. They’ve just pried it out of Mr. Nelligan by way of a gun to his head.’
‘How very barbaric of them, ‘Myles replied serenely, seeming not in the least bit concerned to learn the police were practically on his doorstep. ‘One would have thought the fools would have learned more sophisticated ways of extracting information in this day and age.’ He sighed as though disappointed at having to resort to similar methods. ‘I suggest you arrange a welcoming committee for when they approach the house. Some well directed sniper fire should put paid to their heroics. After all, there are only three and a half of them. I hadn’t realised they’ve descended to recruiting young boys. The one I saw out there earlier couldn’t have been more than twelve or thirteen.’ He paused slightly, eyeing his manicured nails in his usual admiring manner. ‘Have the necessary USB personnel placed in position immediately. I’ll view the proceedings from here, and issue further instructions should they be deemed necessary. In the meantime, I’ll leave matters in your hands. I’m still awaiting that vital email. Otherwise, I’d join you and direct operat
ions myself. But I’ve the utmost faith in you, Miss Conway. I know you’ll deal with the matter in your usual capable manner.’
‘What about Mr Desmond and Mr. Nelligan?’ she asked tentatively. ‘They’re both out there standing like statues. It’s as if they’ve been turned to stone or something. As soon as Mr. Nelligan was forced to grass on us, something funny happened to him. Neither of them are moving so much as a muscle now.’
‘Let them be the first to be shot, Miss Conway. Their incompetence deserves no less, not to mention Mr. Nelligan’s disloyalty. And it will give our marksmen some shooting practice as they await the raiding party before also despatching them to early graves. Their high-powered rifles should have no problem finding their targets from their camouflaged vantage points on the roof. See to it immediately, Miss Conway.’
Anna sighed. Orders were orders. She issued the command, and watched on her monitor as the two snipers rode the escalator which took them on to the flat roof of the building. From there they’d have a clear view of their victims, without being seen themselves as they settled into position beneath the abundance of vegetation. She couldn’t help feeling sorry for Needles. Granted, he’d been guilty of the unforgivable sin of giving information to the cops, but she wondered what she’d have done herself if placed in the same situation and there’d been a gun pointing at her head with only three seconds in which to make up her mind. She tried not to think about it as she switched locations on her monitor to ensure the Boss’s orders were promptly carried out. She didn’t particularly want to watch as the executions unfolded, but knew she’d no choice in the matter. At least it would be over quickly. Once caught in the crosshairs of the telescopic sights, neither Desmond nor Needles would know what hit them. Then it would be the turn of the so-called tramps. Anna sighed again. She hoped Lily and her grandfather wouldn’t have to be added to the body count at the stroke of midnight.
*
‘Well, I don’t care what you say, sir!’ Harrington was exclaiming heatedly. ‘I think we should go straight in! I can’t bear to think of those poor people locked up in there and all we’re doing is talking about what strategy we should adopt. I say we take the bull by the horns and storm the house!’
‘And put the hostages lives in danger, Harrington?’ the Superintendent demanded. ‘Eh? You’ll have to curb that impulsiveness of yours for a little longer. And that’s an order!’
‘I think the Superintendent’s right,’ Mr. Pearson said mildly. ‘Throwing caution to the winds wouldn’t be the most advisable thing to do at the moment. May I be allowed to make a suggestion?’
‘By all means, Mr. Pearson,’ the Superintendent replied, thinking he was about to hear another rational voice added to his own.
‘Well, I’d like to make another scouting trip just like Danny did earlier. On my own, of course. I wouldn’t dream of endangering Charlie again. I’m sure I could crawl right up to the house without being noticed.’ He smiled shyly. ‘As Mrs. Pearson is always reminding me, I’m so thin, I’m practically invisible anyway. Being so insignificant might prove to be an asset in this situation.’
Charlie could hardly believe his ears. Mr. Pearson insignificant! How dare that woman! He was sorry now he hadn’t taken a few chunks out of Mrs Pearson that day he had the chance to.
‘That’s out of the question, Mr. Pearson!’ the Superintendent said adamantly, ‘You’re much too important to our team to be let go risking your life like that. You’re anything but insignificant as far as I’m concerned.’ He was about to add something regarding Mrs Pearson, but thought to himself this wasn’t the time or place for such pettiness.
And then the first rifle shot rang out. They could actually hear the whine of the bullet as it sped through the air, directed with deadly accuracy at Dapper Desmond’s heart. A second followed in quick succession, this one in transit towards Needle’s frozen form. Danny, the Superintendent, Harrington, Mr. Pearson and Charlie flung themselves to the ground behind the steel gate they’d set at an angle earlier as a form of protective shield while they discussed their next move. They heard the ricochets clearly as the bullets rebounded harmlessly after striking the two immobile figures.
The two snipers looked at each other in bewilderment. Both were sharpshooters of the highest calibre, recruited by Moran Enterprises after they’d been dishonourably discharged from a crack team of the army’s Undercover Specialist Branch (USB for short), which didn’t, of course, officially exist as far as the public were concerned. But their dismissal hadn’t escaped Myles Moran’s Communication’s tentacles, and they quickly found themselves in suitable employment again.
Now, for the fist time in their undistinguished careers, they thought they’d missed their targets. Which, they knew, was impossible. Yet, the intended victims were still standing as they’d been prior to the squeezing of the triggers. They checked their rifles. Nothing was amiss. The scopes needed no adjustment. Perhaps they’d merely been careless themselves because of the simplicity of the task. Shooting fish in a barrel could sometimes be taken for granted, resulting in minds wandering at the vital moment. At least their former colleagues were still there to be finished off properly. The snipers took more time with their second shots, but the end product was no different. Then they became annoyed and fired a veritable fusillade in rapid succession. Still no joy.
The snipers, not given to panic or anxiety due to their specialised training, began to think that someone had exchanged their live ammunition for blanks. They were wearing protective ear-plugs and hadn’t heard the dozens of ricochets twanging off Dapper and Needles like angry metal hornets. But the four figures, plus Charlie, lying flat-out behind the gate, certainly had. Quite a number of the hornets had come their way, biting into the steel above their heads, whining in frustration at their failure in doing what they’d been specifically designed to do.
‘What’s going on?’ Harrington hissed, his hands up covering the back of his head, his mouth down in the dirt. ‘Are those bullets coming around corners or something?’
‘They’re ricochets, Harrington!’ the Superintendent, from more or less the same position, hissed back. ‘Just keep down until the firing stops.’
‘Don’t worry,’ Harrington assured him, ‘I will. But where is it coming from?’
‘Rebounding from our two captives over there,’ Mr. Pearson explained. ‘Someone’s trying to kill them, but they’re wasting their time. They could use an elephant gun and they still wouldn’t be able to penetrate the invisible cocoons they’re enveloped in.’
‘Invisible cocoons!’ Harrington said incredulously. ‘What invisible cocoons?’
The shooting stopped just as abruptly as it had begun. Myles Moran, watching on his monitor, had issued the command that the snipers be withdrawn. He’d never seen anything quite like it in his life. Well, he had, taking Mr. Tattoo’s many wondrous gifts into consideration, but this was certainly on a par with the best of them. Myles realised there were people out there who were very interesting indeed. He gazed at his monitor more closely. Yes, it was definitely Mr. Nelligan and Mr. Desmond, not two statues constructed in their likeness. And as far as he could make out, both were still very much alive, though rigid and unmoving, as though they’d somehow been solidified. And they certainly hadn’t reached that state of suspended animation of their own accord. He turned on his sound to see if he could pick up on any information to explain this extraordinary phenomena. It would certainly be to his benefit in the future if he could learn how it had been accomplished. But what he heard wasn’t at all helpful.
‘It’s far too complicated to go into the details now,’ Mr. Pearson was replying to Harrington’s question. ‘And not being rude or anything, but I don’t think you’d understand even if I had the time to tell you. You’d need to be an electronics expert to grasp the concept.’
‘At least the shooting’s stopped,’ the Superintendent said, relieved. ‘And thanks to Mr. Pearson’s gadget, Desmond and Nelligan haven’t been harmed.’
Myles picked up his ears. A gadget? Mr. Pearson? And someone who was well acquainted with Mr. Desmond and Mr. Nelligan? Miss Conway had been right. It had to be the forces of law and order out there, in whatever guise they may have arrived in. But he was still at a loss as to the boy’s presence. Myles decided he’d very much like to capture these intruders alive. It would be positively wasteful to have them eliminated until he’d had them interrogated and discovered the workings of this more than useful gadget of Mr. Pearson’s. He turned off the sound system, realising that he wasn’t going to hear anything more of interest at the moment, seeing as Mr Pearson had already told one of his companions there was no point in talking to him about the gadget’s workings. But he’ll talk to me, Myles told himself. Just as soon they’ve all been lured into my clutches, he’ll be only too pleased to tell me everything to satisfy my curiosity. I’m sure he’ll reveal exactly what I wish to know, especially after considering some unpleasant alternatives I’ll outline to him in detail should he be foolish enough to maintain his silence.
He contacted Anna and told her the visitors were to be allowed to approach the house without being shot at. He’d explain his reasons later.
‘What’s going on, Boss?’ Anna asked, awe in her voice. ‘Were you watching what’s been happening out there?’
‘Indeed I was, Miss Conway, indeed I was. A remarkable performance, wouldn’t you say? And something which we must most definitely investigate further. I want these people captured alive. I believe Mr. Tattoo is the gentleman for that particular task. Please have him contact me immediately. There are a few things I wish to inform him about regarding our guests. Even one as gifted as he may find it prudent to be cautious where they are concerned. After a word in his ear regarding what to expect, I’m certain Mr. Tattoo will relish the encounter.’