by M A Comley
“We’ve done that already, mate. I didn’t sign up to kill people. That don’t sit right with me, dammit,” Johnny whined.
Warrior jabbed his thumb at an area over his shoulder. “There’s the door, mate. The choice is yours.”
Johnny heaved a reluctant sigh. “All right. What do we do next?”
Warrior paced the floor and ran his hands through his cropped hair. “You two need to get back out there and snatch the next family. I’ll do the necessary around here in the meantime. Now get out of my hair and don’t come back empty-handed.”
Both men nodded then rushed out of the house. Warrior heard the screech of the car departing before he rang Lorne.
“Your lot have screwed up, Simpkins. Big time.”
“What? I don’t understand. What’s happened?”
“Don’t act all innocent with me. Things have changed dramatically because of their fuck-up. So listen carefully, or the Hardys’ lives will be ended before the sun sets this evening.”
“What? You can’t do that—we had a deal.”
“Fuck off giving me objections and frigging listen. You ring your mates and let them know Hardy has until seven this evening to come up with the dosh—not half of it, either. I want the full ten mill or else his family will be killed and buried in a secret location. He’ll never find out if they’re dead or alive. A waste, I know, but that’s what the boss wants.”
“Okay, I’ll pass the message on. I’m close to St. Paul’s now. What do you want me to do next?”
“For a start, you can shut your mouth and listen for a change. If you think you’ve been run off your feet up until now, you’d be disillusioned by that assumption. I’ll have further instructions for you shortly.”
***
Lorne didn’t know what part of her was spinning more—her insides or her head. She hated feeling useless and totally out of control of a situation. She picked up Sean’s mobile and spoke to him on speakerphone as she continued to weave her way through the agonisingly slow traffic.
“Sean, I haven’t got long. They didn’t like it.”
“Like what, Lorne?”
“The conference. We’ve stuffed up. You have to pass on a message to Hardy that he’s got until seven tonight to raise the funds or his family will be killed.”
“I hear you on that. What about the Perkins? Did he mention how they fared?”
“No. He didn’t say. I’d prepare Mr. Perkins for the same kind of fate and urge him to pull out all the stops. Who knows what’s going to happen once the seven o’clock deadline passes.”
“Shit! Okay, how are you holding up, Lorne?”
“I’m okay. Weary, but I have to keep going. He’s also told me that my involvement is going to be escalated, too.”
“Meaning what?”
“I have no idea. I get the feeling they’re giving me the run-around just to keep me occupied and away from the station.”
“So you’ve changed your mind on the Unicorn’s connection then?”
“I’m really not sure, Sean. I’m depending on you guys not to let me down back there. Throw everything you’ve got into finding that vehicle—both vehicles, in fact. Someone knows where they are. That’s going to be the key to this now.”
“Okay. We’ll up the tempo at this end. I’ll get on to Hardy and Perkins first then help the team sift through any calls that come in from the conference. Stay safe. Don’t drop your guard at all. You hear me?”
“That goes without saying. Call you later.”
She peered into her rear-view mirror, looking for Tony and Joe. She spotted them three cars back and let out a relieved sigh. Keep close, boys. I think this is where things are going to start to get a little frantic.
A few minutes later, Lorne pulled up outside St. Paul’s Cathedral and sat in the car, waiting for Warrior to ring. He rang within a few seconds, Lorne suspected this was thanks to the information her tail was feeding him.
“Lazy bitch, you couldn’t even get out of the car.”
“To be fair, you didn’t tell me to. What am I looking for this time?”
“Nothing. Now ditch the car and make your way by tube to Madame Tussauds. You have forty minutes, Simpkins.”
“There’s no way I’ll make it there in time.”
“Not my problem. Do it, or I’ll break a limb on one of the hostages. I’ll even let you choose who I hurt first.” He laughed and hung up.
Lorne gathered the two phones and locked the car, no doubt leaving it to be towed away. Then she started running for the nearest tube station, the Barbican. Already out of breath, she rang Sean again. “I’m on foot, heading for Madame Tussauds via the tube. Tell Tony.” She ended the call without waiting for him to reply and stepped up her pace, thankful not for the first time that day that she’d chosen to wear her trusty trainers.
After swiping her credit card at the turnstile and picking up her ticket, Lorne began her descent into the bowels of London. It was the worst form of transport Warrior could have ordered her to take. Since the 7/7 bombings, she’d made every attempt to avoid using the tube. Her claustrophobia heightened the lower she went, until she finally made it to the station just in time to see the back end of a tube train disappearing into the tunnel. She thumped her fist against her thigh and paced back and forth until the next train arrived.
Lorne stood erect with her back pressed against the wall and observed the many new passengers arriving, amazed by how many people still travelled by tube in spite of the fear of another terrorist attack. Was it a case of people easily forgetting the loss of life that day, or do people genuinely feel this is the most convenient way to travel around London? Either way, Lorne’s heart rate rose beyond a comfortable level, forcing her to close her eyes and take in a few deep breaths. She opened them again to find a cute little boy of around four tugging at the hem of her jacket. Lorne smiled and crouched to talk to him, “Hello, little man. Can I help you?”
He started to sob. “I’ve lost my mummy.”
Lorne caught the words between his rasping breaths. “Oh, sweetheart, she can’t be very far.” She took the child’s hand, ran back to the stairs, lifted the boy in her arms, and from the fifth step, shouted, “Can I have your attention everyone please? I have a little boy here who has lost his mummy.” She stroked the boy’s hair back off his crimson face and asked, “What’s your name, sweetie?”
“It’s... it’s Gavin. I want my mummy.”
“Gavin, can you remember your surname? Your last name, darling?”
“Gavin Pea... cock.”
She addressed the hushed crowd again. “Is there a Mrs. Peacock here?”
To her amazement, no one stepped forward to claim the child. Shit! What do I do now? Lorne’s gaze landed on Tony’s in the crowd. He shrugged and turned his back on her. Conscious of the punishing timeframe she was working under, she bolted up the stairs to the ticket office. “Sorry, you have to help me. This dear little boy has lost his mum. Can you put a call out for a Mrs. Peacock please?”
The beaming black woman stroked the child’s face. “Of course I can, sugar.”
Lorne glanced over her shoulder expectantly as the woman’s voice boomed around them. “I’m sorry. I hate to do this, but I’m late for an appointment already. Would you mind if I left the child here with you?”
Hearing the words, the boy tightened his arms around Lorne’s neck. “No. Stay with me. I want my mummy.”
The pleading in his eyes yanked on her heartstrings. “I can’t, sweetheart. You’ll be safe here with the nice lady. Your mummy won’t be long, I’m sure.”
Lorne tried to untangle herself from his grasp, but the child held firm. Shit! So much for me coming to the child’s rescue, now I’m bloody trapped. What will people think of me if I just dump him here and run? Sod it, I have to, for the Hardys’ sake. Her inner voice seemed to be in as much turmoil as she was.
The boy’s face lit up, and he held out his arms to a sobbing petite blonde woman who rushed towards them.
“Oh, Gavin. Where did you go? I’m so sorry. I stopped to buy a ticket at the machine, turned my back on him for a second, and when I looked again, he’d vanished. I’ve been going out of my mind, searching for the little rascal.”
“Maybe you should keep him on a leash,” Lorne said, only half-joking. “I found him on the platform.”
“My God, really. You, naughty boy. What have I told you about going near the trains by yourself? It’s dangerous, Gavin. Very, very dangerous.”
“I’m sorry. I’ve got to fly. I’m late as it is.”
“Sorry, of course. Forgive us again. I can’t thank you enough for rescuing him.”
Lorne touched the woman’s arm and kissed the little boy’s cheek. “It’s all in a day’s work. Don’t let him out of your sight again. He’s far too precious to lose.”
Lorne bolted back down the stairs just as another train was pulling into the station. The crowd surged forward, and she felt someone’s hand grab hers. Lorne didn’t react and continued to move with the crowd to board the train. She knew the warmth of her husband’s touch. She squeezed his hand and pushed ahead, through the carriage and placed her back against the carriage wall and held on firmly to the metal railing. Lorne bowed her head, pretending to look at the floor of the carriage, all the time observing those around her, trying to identify the man tailing her, but again, no one stood out in the crowd. Even Tony had disappeared from her sight. Her heart skipped several beats as the train pulled away from the station. Oh no, what if he and Joe didn’t make it?
She pushed the terrifying thought from her mind and spent the rest of the journey surveying the crowd and promising to give her sister a call. It had been several weeks since they’d last contacted each other. Dealing with the lost child had made her realise how far apart they had grown recently. She would endeavour to put that right once she and the hostages were all back home, safe and sound.
The train drew to a halt, and the passengers disembarked quickly. Lorne caught sight of the back of Tony’s head going up the flight of steps ahead of her. Once she was out in the open again, she rushed along Marylebone Road. She stood outside Madame Tussauds, bent over fighting for breath. Her mobile rang. “Hello.”
Warrior laughed. “I thought you coppers were supposed to have a medical every year. You sound pretty unfit to me, Simpkins. Good job you ditched that kid. Otherwise, this kid would have been suffering from a broken arm.”
“Just tell me what to do now. I’ve told you I’ll comply with your instructions. If I can make the allotted time, I’ll do everything in my power to do it.”
“Good. I’m glad to hear it. I’m sure the families we have here at the moment—and the one we’re about to acquire—will appreciate your efforts come the end.”
“What? You’re planning to kidnap someone else? Why?”
“You can stop interrogating me, bitch. If you keep up your end of the bargain, then we’ll do the same. We’re in control; not you. Am I making myself perfectly clear?”
“I understand completely. Please, just answer one question for me.”
“You can ask it, whether I’ll answer it is another matter entirely.”
“Why are you jeopardising so many lives? What’s your ultimate aim in this?”
“Uh-oh, you got greedy, lady. I said I might answer one question, and you asked two. I guess you’re still having trouble figuring out who’s in charge here.”
Warrior paused, and Lorne heard a door open then a woman scream. “No, please, there’s no need for anyone to get harmed.”
Another scream filtered down the line, and Lorne chastised herself for goading him unnecessarily. “Recognise who’s in charge now, Simpkins?”
“Yes. Okay, what do you want me to look for now?” She tried to distract him from punishing the woman further.
“There’s no clue there. We’re still going by your suggestions, remember? However, you struck lucky when you named the HOP. You’ll find a valuable clue at the Houses of Parliament.”
Lorne exhaled loudly.
“Now, you’ve got exactly thirty minutes to get there.”
Lorne turned and sprinted back towards the Baker Street underground station.
Before Warrior hung up, he hit the woman a second time, and she yelled out in pain. “Please help us,” the woman screamed.
Lorne swallowed the lump filling her throat and rang Sean at the station. “I’m heading for the HOP, Sean. He’s taken to hurting one of the women he’s holding if I question him over anything.”
“Damn, don’t antagonise the shithead, Lorne.”
“I’m trying not to. Any news on the vehicles? He’s threatened that the hostage count is about to rise.”
“Shit, shit, shit! We’re following up on two calls regarding the Orion, nothing on the four-by-four yet. Did the kidnapper give you any clue as to who they’re going to pounce on next?”
“No. Where is this bloody going to end? We have to find the hideout. Can you call in the police helicopter?”
“I actioned it about thirty minutes ago. They’re scouring the outskirts of London, but that’s the crux—we don’t have a clue in what definitive direction to send them.”
Lorne barged past a man and almost sent him tumbling to the ground. “Look where you’re going and get off that damn contraption while you’re walking,” he cursed at her when she pulled him upright.
“Sorry, important business.” She headed off again and returned to her conversation. “Sean, the couple of sightings you’ve received so far—can the chopper not hover around that area? That is, if they’re in the vicinity.”
“That’s the trouble. The two sightings are about thirty miles apart.”
“Damn. Are they at least on the same kind of route?”
“How the effing hell should I know? We have no route at the moment.”
“Don’t take your frustration out on me. Work it out. If you can’t do it, then bloody get Katy to do your thinking for you. I’ve got to go.” Lorne cut him off before he could argue. She was furious at the speed the team appeared to be working under her boss’s leadership. If only I could tear myself in two, I could run both sides of the operation then.
CHAPTER FOURTEEN
Katy could see how furious Sean was when he finished his call with Lorne. She walked up to him and inclined her head. “Is she throwing her weight around again?”
His eyes narrowed. “When isn’t she? I’m already regretting giving her your job.”
Katy folded her arms and sat on the edge of the desk behind her. “Now I know you’re jesting. You’d be lost—we’d be lost—without her on the case.”
His head hung low, and he shrugged. “I know you’re right. She just frustrates the hell out of me at times.” He clapped his hands and shook his head as if pulling himself out of his slumber. “Right, where do we stand? The chopper is in the air, right? I think that needs to be our priority.”
“It’s in the air, but nothing to report yet. It’s going to be difficult without having further details of the cars and possible sightings.”
Sean nodded. “I agree, and I suspect things are going to get a whole lot trickier, too.”
Katy frowned. “How come?”
“Lorne said the kidnapper hinted at yet another family being abducted.”
Katy propelled herself off the desk. “What?”
“Yep. Not sure where it’s going to end. What I do know is that it’s vital we stop these guys.”
“What the hell are they playing at? What’s their objective?”
“Valid questions that we just haven’t found the answers to yet. I know what a severe pain in the arse it is, but we’re going to have to start trawling through the CCTV cameras across London.”
“Are you crazy? That could take us weeks,” Katy protested.
“Then tell me what else we should consider doing, Sergeant. I’m open to all suggestions, no matter how trivial they seem.”
Katy sighed. “I hear where you’re coming from
. Might I suggest that we leave things as they are for the next few hours and concentrate on sifting through the phone calls we’ve received after the conference aired? The media will be running it again around tea time.”
“That’s good to hear. Bear in mind that the time limit has shifted, and Hardy has to come up with his ten million by seven this evening,” Sean said.
“That’s imprinted on my mind, boss.” Katy let out a long, suffering breath.
“Let’s get cracking then.”
***
The muscles in Lorne’s legs began to burn as she ran back through the underground in search of the next train on the Jubilee Line that would take her back to the area near where her journey had commenced first thing. She had bought a bottle of water from a street vendor outside the station and downed most of it in one. In the distance, the train was nearing the opening, and Lorne stood back from the platform just in case anyone had any bright ideas about pushing her under the approaching vehicle. Don’t be daft! They need me. I’ve been watching too many high-octane thrillers on TV lately.
Again, she did her obligatory discreet scout around the surrounding area and thought she saw a man she recognised from a few other destinations, but then, knowing how her luck had tested her that day, she feared her assumption was totally off the mark. She did manage to catch a glimpse of Joe at the back of the crowd. He winked at her and motioned with his head that Tony was within spitting distance. Lorne presumed her hubby was taking a toilet break. She feared she’d need to do the same thing before long if she downed any more full bottles of water the way she had.
The train came to a halt in front of the crowd, and the doors whooshed open. The people moved swiftly, like a large swarm of bees heading back to the hive after a successful pollen-hunting trip. Lorne hopped in the first carriage and sought out her usual spot, cautious of facing the crowd instead of turning her back on them. As the train pulled out of the station and into the tunnel, Lorne glanced sideways at the blackness outside. She caught a glimpse in the window of a man scrutinising her. Pretending she hadn’t seen him, she looked away but continued to watch him in her peripheral vision. He seemed contemplative, as if he were going over a plan in his head. Lorne’s stomach muscles matched her legs—both constricted nervously. The fifteen-minute journey felt unending. She leapt out of the train at Westminster Underground Station and ran ahead of the surging pack. Out in the open, she sprinted until the huge building she was in search of lay ahead of her. She waited at the perimeter of the Houses of Parliament for more instructions from the kidnapper.