I crept to the door leading to the hallway and took my pistol out as I heard two more gunshots in quick succession. Someone yelled in pain and I heard the distinct thump of something heavy and meaty dropping to the ground.
Then there was the sound of someone running down the hall. The slapping of trainered feet hitting the floor and then squeaking as they skidded on the plastic as they sped around the corner. I peered around the corner and raised the pistol.
I was shocked to see Alex and Dom who I had met when I first arrived in Liverpool with fear etched on their faces as they ran for their lives. The skeletal face of the gunman behind them raising a revolver. Before he could fire, I shot, my aim hindered by the concussion I was sure I was suffering. The bullet smashed into the breezeblock wall next to him, dust and rubble shattered and covered him and threw off his concentration. He ducked back behind the corner as I fired again. The two gang members dived into the room I was in.
“Afternoon gentlemen,” I said as I hid behind the wall as the return fire made it impossible for me to stay in the hallway.
“Bloody hell, …..Harper?..... where the hell did you learn to shoot like that?” asked Dom as he had his hands on his knees and struggled to intake air.
I shrugged my shoulders which brought a wince of pain, “I obviously was better Time Crisis since I didn't manage to hit the man. Are you guys at all armed?”
Alex nodded his face ghostly white in the dim light. He avoided eye contact with me and made nothing of the fact I had smashed his nose earlier in the week. Two black eyes were the evidence of that encounter.
“Ok, well stick your gun out there and shoot a couple of rounds whilst I make a call,” I ordered.
“You're going to make a phone call when there is someone shooting at you?” Dom inquired his words strung out as he was oxygen deprived and more than a little frightened about what was going on.
“Hey I've got to pay the bills, this is a good story,” I said over my shoulder as I walked out the hall and into the kitchen area. All of the cupboard doors had been ripped off, no appliances were left in the room and the sink had definitely been used recently but as a toilet. I crinkled my nose and dialed Spencer, “Right copper, where the hell are the armed response?”
“Harper, thank God you are still alive. We've got reports of gunfire in there and it's all kicking off.”
The loud report of Alex firing and his partner shouting abuse at the 'Seasonal Shooter' filled the background. I smiled, “Yeah, it is all definitely kicking off as you put it. So where the hell is my back up?”
“I thought you had a radio? They entered the building ten minutes ago but are having to clear the floors. They are on the way up but they don't want to get ambushed.”
I nodded and bit my lip in frustration, “Hold on,” I put the phone to my chest and shouted out to the two gang members, “Guys, which floor are we on?”
“Fourteen,” one of them yelled back over the din of gunfire.
I was a little surprised but it made sense that I was be taken to the top floor since it was above the well defended area that was the thirteenth level. What was more shocking was that the gunman had managed to get that far, “Spencer, I'm on the fourteenth floor, the top one. Basically I'm going to say there will probably be some trouble between your guys and the floor below. There are gang members all over this place and they’re well armed as well. If they go in hard then there is going to be some real trouble.”
“Harper, there is no way they aren't going in hard after this guy. If the Elsworth Warriors gang aren't going to go down quietly then it is going to get bloody. All I can suggest is you just put your head down and try and show your ID before the plastic cuffs slap on you.”
“Yeah this nutter could get out of here by then and although I feel confident on who it is, mate, I can't tell you since I'm not pointing the finger at someone else and getting it wrong. Just tell them to hurry up otherwise you may find a lot of dead drug dealers.”
“Are you saying it is not Kai Nelson and his gang?”
I was back in the corridor next to the two gang members, “What I'm saying it that if you don't hurry then Nelson will be dead as will a lot of other people.”
Chapter Sixty Four
The 'Seasonal Shooter' stepped off the elevator on the tenth floor. He had taken care to press for the thirteenth with a well bloodied finger and the button for the floor he exited on with the metal barrel of his pistol. He was running low on weapons but the one in his hand was specifically needed for his plan to come off. Walking to the door of a flat he knew well, he knocked with base of his pistol. Putting the weapon back in his jacket pocket and he concealed the shape and size through a hole he had specifically cut in that pocket for that particular reason. Removing the hood and mask from his face, he waited for the occupant to come to the door. He could hear someone on the other side and the small dot of white light that was visible through the people was momentarily eclipsed, “What you want?” a voice asked from behind the door.
“Looking for some lemon, mate,” the gunman raised a small wad of twenty pound notes from his pocket.
Next there was the sound of a metal chain being slid across the latch and the clicking of locks being opened. The door swung inwards to reveal a young man. Wearing a white t-shirt and tracksuit bottoms, the man was dressed for a quiet night in and not the bitterness of outside. A thin layer of stubble coated his jawline and his sunken eyes looked at the visitor warily, “How much you looking for?”
“None,” the shooter said as he fired the pistol from his pocket into the man's gut. As the drug dealer fell back another shot hit him in the head as the gun was quickly reloaded. It had been the most difficult to procure of all the weapons he had prepared for this night. It had cost a small fortune but the silenced pistol was instrumental in his plans. The exact model was something of a Special Forces collector’s piece; a weapon devised and used during the Second World War known as a Welrod. He could have made a suppressor of his own and attached it to any of the guns he owned but he wanted to ensure that he retained accuracy and that it worked sufficiently for his purposes. The problem was the weapon still sounded like a gun being fired, if somewhat muffled, but was a lot quieter than most suppressed weapons, barely over seventy decibels. Still the aim was for the people above him not to hear the discharge and he was confident that the suppressor had done its job.
The flat he entered was one of the few that sold drugs in the building. Normally the Elsworth gang tried to keep their product out of Oak Tower just in case there was a large police raid but for convenience they allowed a couple of dealers to operate. It did not take long for the gunman to find the stash of cocaine that he had asked for. Locking the door and carrying the bag of drugs he went to the bathroom and sat down on the edge of the bath. Delicately he took off his jacket and the hooded jumper and cleaned his gunshot wound. His blood completely soaked one white towel and then another as he carefully washed away the dried blood and sugar surrounding the wound. He winced in agony as he tentatively touched the puckered skin. Opening the bag of cocaine, he poured the white powder over both the holes and then on his leg. The drug’s anaesthetic properties would provide a brief respite from the pain and should give him the time to see his plan through to the end.
He taped another towel to his shoulder with a roll of duct tape and walked out of the bathroom and into the bedroom of the flat. Trawling through the wardrobe, which was the only piece of furniture other than the bed, he found a grey hooded sweatshirt that would fit him and delicately put it on. He then put on his black jacket and hung the mask around his neck. Doing another check of the flat, he found a loaded revolver, which he identified as a Colt Detective Special and placed it in his waistband. Drinking some water from tap in the bathroom, he prepared himself for the mission ahead.
Walking out of the flat, he walked up the stairwell with his hands inside his jacket pocket. Feeling better with the effects of the cocaine reducing his pain, he focused on finding his tar
get. Avoiding the eleventh and twelfth floor, he was stopped on the thirteenth by two men.
“What are you doing here? This floor is out of bounds to you, you know that? Fuck off back to where you are wanted,” one of the men said to him, pushing him back.
“I just wanted to speak to Kai.”
“And do what? Tell him about the error of his ways?”
“No, I was here to warn him that there is a policeman coming to arrest him.”
The second man just laughed and allowed his partner to answer, “Yeah we know, unfortunately for that busy, we got the drop on him. He's being worked over as we speak.”
“Thank you,” the gunman said as he smiled and pulled the trigger again on his silenced pistol. One shot fired out and into the man on his right high in the chest, close to the heart. It would have taken too much time to pull back the bolt action on the specialised weapon so the shooter removed a sharp knife from his left pocket and he jabbed it into the other man's neck. Blood sprayed over the gunman's face, momentarily blinding him. Removing his right hand from the grip of his pistol, he put it over the man's mouth so he could not shout out for help. Pulling out the small blade as the man fell to his knees, the serial killer pocketed the weapon and moved to the stairwell door.
The supplies he was carrying were nearly empty. It might not have been the most fetching of apparel but he was wearing a money purse underneath his underwear and inside he removed two wooden door wedges from the detritus of bullets in the small bag. Kneeling gingerly, hoping he would not rip open the wound on his thigh he placed both wedges under the door and hammered them home with the pistol before he once again pulled back the bolt on the weapon and moved upstairs.
Taking a deep breath he placed the mask back on his face and put the long barrel of the silenced Welrod to the small glass window of the stairwell door on the fourteenth floor. He leveled it with the back of someone’s head, who he suspected was guarding the floor. It made sense that the person would not expect anyone to be coming up from the stairs, just that someone may make a run for them. The shot echoed in the empty hallway but the sound never carried into the hallway of the floor ahead.
Reloading once again he pulled open the door and dragged the body with him. Once the dead man was in the stairwell, he slowly crept into the hallway. Closing the door, he took a quick look around the hall but there was no one visible.
A door wedge would not work due to the direction the door opened but he had thought of this eventuality. Around his waist he wore two bike chains held on by two padlocks. It had made it extremely difficult for him to walk around especially with wound on his leg since they were quite heavy. He looped one through the stairwell door and the other through the door handle of room that was labeled refuse. Neither chain was long enough to reach on their own so he attached them to each other by padlocks. Snapping the key in one lock he filled the other with a small tube of superglue, no one would be opening that lock anytime soon.
The gunman knew that the other stairwell was completely blocked from the eighth floor with shopping trolleys, plasterboard and other assorted rubbish. It made it easier for the gang to regulate who came up since above the eighth floor it was predominately the domain of their members and associates. Anyone who had been in the elevators also knew that there was no button for the top floor, they had been ripped out completely. The one entrance and exit was now only accessible by him.
Walking down the hallway towards where the elevators were located, he raised the Welrod with his good right hand and rested his left hand on the grip of the snub-nosed revolver he had taken from the apartment four floors below. He still had another pistol of his own but was more than happy to kill drug dealers with their own weapons.
Before he reached the elevators there was a set of double fire doors, one of which was open. On the other side of the lifts was another set of double doors but both of those were closed. The gunman moved low so as not to be seen through the small windows. Briefly he popped his head up to see the one lone sentry leaning against the wall. The Welrod was not a weapon designed for long or middle distance shooting, ideally it was placed close to the target, if not into their body, and then the trigger pulled. Still he was trying to remain quiet till he found Nelson and, if he could, the irritating figure of John Harper.
He pushed open the door and in one swift action raised the Welrod and took careful aim. His shot missed by inches smashing into the wall to the guard’s left, startling him into action. However the 'Seasonal Shooter' was faster and he opened fire with the Detective Special. One shot hit the man's arm, the second exploded the gang member's head.
Standing there in the hallway he could hear the noise of people moving and he raised the handgun. Walking forward slowly he saw the door at the bottom of the hallway open and he moved to the side and fired one shot into the wood. As he did so, two men turned the corner. He recognised them both and fired a parting shot as they ducked back from whence they came. His accuracy was rewarded with the sight of blood splashing against the back wall indicating he hit someone. A yelp of pain and a dull thud accompanied it and he was about to follow when the door he fired upon earlier suddenly burst open and two young men ran out and darted around the corner. They moved surprisingly fast and were out of sight before he could make a shot.
Letting out a groan of anger at himself the gunman set off after the four men. Since at least one of Kai Nelson or Josh Murray had been wounded by his first couple of shots he wanted to finish the job. Running around the corner he nearly fell over the corpse of Murray who was missing the majority of the left side of his face. The gunman turned to the second corner expecting to fire at the backs of running men when he was met by the bloodied face of John Harper who was wielding a gun of his own that barked in response.
With his back against the wall he fired blindly with the revolver till he heard the click of the metal hammer landing on an empty cartridge. Once again the detective was stopping him from eradicating the drug dealing scum of the city. Somehow he had survived his encounter with Nelson and was now even helping the gang leader. It would, however, be the last time Harper ever interfered in his business again.
Chapter Sixty Five
I stood back from the deafening sound of a pistol being fired in the close confines of the apartment and steeled myself for something I knew was rather stupid. I knew from my training with the Army that you did not want to be pinned down under fire like that. My fear was that myself and Alex would run out of ammunition before the gunman did.
“Okay gents, I'm going to make a run for it,” I said once Alex stood back from the wall.
“Where the hell are you going to go?” Dom asked.
“I'm going to get him to follow me. I’ll go down the stairwell opposite and lead him straight towards the cops.”
Alex shook his head, “It’s just a dead end, the stairwell is just full of rubbish.”
I thought for a second and then said, “Right, what if I can make a dive across to that room next to the stairwell without getting hit, then we will have him at two angles. Then I'll move down the hall. Barricade this door shut. I'm positive he would rather follow me than clip you two.”
I could tell from the look on those two gang members faces they wanted me to stay. I suspected it was because they liked the fact that I was willing to issue them orders and had kept them alive up to that point.
“Look guys, I’ve been a pain in his arse all day. He’ll come after me; you just give me some covering fire, ok?”
They nodded in unison and Dom ran into the living room and started carrying the furniture into the hallway. Taking off my cufflinks, I rolled up my sleeves, which were now covered in grime and blood. My hands were still inside the black leather gloves and I chose to keep them on as I clicked the safety off my pistol, “Right, when I say go, you fire at the wall till I make it across to that room.”
“Once you are in there you will have nowhere to go. That used to be a maintenance room but is completely disused. There’s
loads of rubbish in there,” said Dom.
“Yeah and piss and crap,” his friend said, “Not many working toilets up on this level.”
“I’m surprised you guys are allowed up here.”
“We were getting tooled up,” Alex said and then realized he had said too much. After the encounter at the fight and my disarming him coupled with my threat he was wary of admitting they were going to get more weapons; even if that gun was the thing that had kept us all alive.
I smiled, “I’m not here to vilify you boys, if anything I’m happy you have a gun. Just get ready.”
Taking a couple of deep breaths I shouted, “Now,” I was nearly deafened as Alex opened fire with his pistol next to my head as I ran out into the corridor with my pistol raised. I put my good shoulder through the door and stumbled into the room. The smell hit me first and I stayed as close to the doorway as possible since there was no light in the room itself. Two bullets smashed into the door frame, dark blue paint and splinters of wood flying into the air.
I put my gun around the corner and nodded to Alex who fired his pistol till I heard the dull click that indicated he was out of ammunition. That was my cue and I sidestepped out into the corridor once more. The gunman’s arm was visible as he was aiming at Alex and I fired. My shot missed but it made the killer back off. I turned and ran down the hallway, diving through the double doors as bullets followed me once the gunman regained his confidence.
“Stupid, John, very stupid,” I said, admonishing myself. Running to the next set of doors I heard the foot falls of the gunman following me. Even if he did kill me then at least the two gang members would be safe.
A Shot In The Night (John Harper Series Book 2) Page 27