Soft Target 02 - Tank
Page 13
The money hidden, Pinn returned to the cellar. He climbed the stairs to the kitchen and recovered the dead skinhead’s Uzi 9mm. He went to the wash sink and doused his face in cold water. He tried to slow his breathing and cool down but the thought of leaving the money was gut wrenching. Pinn needed to be convincing if the next part of his plan was to work. Pinn returned to the main body of the casino. You could cut the atmosphere with a knife. The Brigade men had come here to smash the place up and steal some money. They were now in the middle of a hostage situation surrounded by heavily armed police. Panic was setting in and there was no natural leader amongst them. Intelligence and common sense were not qualities that the Brigade’s members had in abundance.
“Where the fuck have you been Pinn? We thought you had bottled it,” Dano growled sitting on top of a slot machine, drinking a stolen bottle of vodka. He was actually pleased that he had arrived, because Pinn was very useful when there was trouble around. Dano out ranked Pinn, but often followed his instructions because they made sense.
“I was trying to get the safe open but there’s no way. It is way too complex to break and there’s no code, it’s on a timer system,” Pinn lied, “listen I’ve got an idea Dano. We’re surrounded by serious firepower. We can’t fight our way out and sooner or later they’re going to come in. I have found a way out.”
Pinn told Dano and Clarky about the ventilation shaft. He convinced them that Pete Dodge and the 18th Brigade needed them on the outside, and that Dodge would need all his key Lieutenants around him to withstand any retaliation from the Russians. Dano and Clarky glanced at each other, but they didn’t really need much convincing. They were looking at armed robbery at best, which carried a ten-year sentence.
“You and Clarky take the lads down the tunnel. I will stay here and bullshit the dibbles (police) to give you a head start. I will let a couple of the hostages go one at a time. If I drag it out for an hour or so you and the lads will be miles away by the time they realise that there’s only me left. I will tell the last few hostages to walk out, and that I’m watching them from the balcony. I will barricade the doors and then follow you down the tunnel. By the time they realise I have gone I can be down the tunnel and across the river,” Pinn made the plan very convincing. It was plausible, especially to desperate men looking for a way to avoid a long jail sentence.
“That’s fucking brilliant Pinn,” Dano said excitedly and genuinely impressed with the idea. “We will leave Ken and Jono with you.”
“No thanks. They’re fucking idiots, I’ll be better off on my own, besides the Brigade will need everyman we can keep out of jail. You lot go now and I’ll be fine,” Pinn didn’t want any of them left when the police came. His plan was to wait until all the Brigade men had gone down the tunnel and then walk out with the hostages, and identify himself as an undercover agent. He would be in the clear and the money was safely hidden, where he could come back for it at a later date. The police would hunt down the Brigade men, but he was exonerated and his cover would still be intact. He didn’t intend to ever need the Brigade or the Organised Crime Unit again, his money would see to that. Pinn knew that the Brigades contacts spread worldwide so he had to be very careful. He wanted to disappear, not become a fugitive from every neo-Nazi crime family on the planet.
“Go now, quickly,” Pinn hissed. Dano gathered his men and they sprinted for the rear of the building. Clarky stopped at the end of the corridor and looked back at Pinn. He couldn’t understand how Pinn had just stumbled on an access tunnel. Something wasn’t right. When he reached the door to the kitchen Clarky saw a blood trail across the kitchen floor as if someone was dragged. He couldn’t stop to question Pinn but he knew something wasn’t right. They stared at each other down the length of the corridor, Pinn saw the glint of suspicion in Clarke’s eyes but the thought of being incarcerated trumped any misgivings he had. Clarky turned and followed the others down the steps into the cellar. Pinn watched the Brigade men disappear into the cellar and then he froze. There was a loud rumble approaching the building and then suddenly the lights went out, plunging the casino into darkness.
Chapter 25
Roman Kordinski/ Alexis
Roman sat in the boardroom of his Premiership football club. He had bought the club four years earlier as part of his profile raising strategy, but the project had failed miserably. His millions had attracted an array of talent but they were mostly Prima Donnas with no real skill. He bought the ailing club because the Russian government wanted him dead, as did his business rivals. It is far more difficult to assassinate celebrities without repercussions, than it would be if he were just another Russian exile. He kept the sharp end of his criminal business at a respectable distance from himself. Drug and sex slave trafficking did not fit hand in glove with his entrepreneur image. Rumours of his possible involvement with organised crime were rife in the British press but they added to his persona. His illegal activities were organised by his right hand man Alexis. Roman had no contact at all below his level. His soldiers were forbidden from contacting him directly unless it was an absolute emergency. Roman glared at the screen of his cell phone and he felt the anger rising in his throat. It was the third text message in six hours that he had received from one of his Lieutenants, Yuri. The direct contact alone was against procedure, but Yuri was enquiring as to how the Kellesh situation was being handled. Mentioning the name of anyone at all was a cardinal sin.
Roman was paying attention to his mobile and had stopped listening to the incessant whining of his overpaid football manager, who was making excuses for a four-nil defeat at the hands of Liverpool Football Club for the second time in the season. Roman was losing his temper and the people sat around the table were making him feel worse. He stood and left the table without a word, his chair scraped loudly. The surprised faces around the boardroom watched in surprise as he walked across the boardroom toward his office without so much as an excuse me. The shocked expressions at the table would have made a great picture as Roman stopped and kicked a tin wastepaper bin across the room angrily. It struck the wall with a tremendous clatter and then bounced onto a drinks tray. The tray contained a jug of water and a dozen glasses, which shattered into a hundred pieces in every direction. Silence fell as the metal bin rolled across the room. Roman entered his private office and slammed the door closed violently behind him. The senior members of the football club’s staff were left stunned in the boardroom. They looked at each other in shocked amazement. The football team manager, who was a Portuguese character named Moanerio, started to cry for the second time that season.
Roman Kordinski opened the first drawer of his leather-topped desk and removed a blackberry phone. He entered the memory and selected a number. He slammed the drawer closed as he dialled.
“Hello Roman. What can I do for you?” asked Alexis in a cheerful voice. He was a little surprised by the call from his employer. Their calls were always scheduled, and on the few occasions when they did actually meet, it was always at a public event so that it never looked suspicious.
“You can begin by explaining why Yuri is texting me on my personal number, and you can also explain what the fucking hell he is doing mentioning names!” the volume of Romans voice rose to a scream. The men sat around the boardroom table in the next room could hear him shouting. One of them stood and indicated that they should all leave. They headed for the door like naughty schoolboys pushing each other to get away from their enraged teacher.
“Yuri is missing Roman. He was carrying out some work for me at Euston station but never returned. If he was still operational I would be very surprised if he would try to contact you directly,” Alexis explained trying to calm his employer. He had worked for Roman for many years now and he was well aware of how quickly his mood could darken. He was a very dangerous man indeed when he lost his temper, almost uncontrollable. The charming smiling business man could disappear in seconds to be replaced by a screaming psychopath who thought nothing of killing anyone in his path.
“I can only assume that he has resigned without notice or been incapacitated in some way,” Alexis said trying to keep the conversation meaningless to anyone listening in. He was aware of the British security service’s desire to tap Roman’s phone since his arrival in the UK. They constantly scanned his office for bugs. “We are currently experiencing some problems at our leisure facilities in Liverpool and Manchester. We incurred fire damage.”
“Really, at which one,” asked Roman angrily. The situation was going from bad to worse. He had to maintain his composure; he couldn’t let the mask slip anymore than he already had today.
“All of them,” replied Alexis nervously, “we lost over thirty sites, all the money and most of our staff have disappeared.”
Roman Kordinski stayed silent. If he had a gun and Alexis was in the same room he would not stop firing until it was empty. His business was severely damaged. He did not have to ask who was responsible because Alexis had warned of some kind of retaliation following the Kellesh episode. However he had not expected a bunch of skinhead thugs to be so audacious in their response. He was almost impressed, only almost.
“It appears that the fascists are flexing their muscle internationally. We have received threats from the Aryan Brotherhood against our interests in America. Several smaller European groups are also making noises,” Alexis continued, “it could be more trouble than it’s worth to respond immediately. I think we should conclude our current projects first then deal with the Nazis at a later date. Yuri’s phone messages are a concern though. They are not being sent by Yuri. If he was still operational I would know it.”
“We must meet immediately Alexis. I think someone is setting up a sting. If Yuri really is indisposed then his cell is being used to make a link with me. Meet me at the garage at six o’clock tonight,” said Roman and the line went dead.
Alexis replaced the handset and stared silently at it for a long time. He had called many meetings at the garage over the years. If you were summoned to the garage it was usually a very bad thing. The garage was an empty ministry of defence vehicle testing station. Roman had bought the old army truck facility with a view to developing the land into apartments because of its proximity to the commuter belt. The structure was like an aircraft hangar in appearance. Inside was a wide-open area dissected by a huge inspection pit, which ran the length of the building. The inspection pit was used to detain suspected informers, disobedient prostitutes and opposition agents. Once thrown into the inspection pit there was no way out unaided. The ladders had long since been removed. The poor unfortunates in the pit often became the sport for their captors above. They became target practice for their pistols or game for the Rottweiler dogs that guarded the site. On several occasions multiple victims in the pit were armed with spanners or metal bars and left to fight to the death, a promise of freedom to the winner. No one ever left the inspection pit alive. The pit was frequently doused with concentrated sulphuric acid to dissolve any human remains and the slimy residue was then rinsed down a central grid into the sewers. The tiled walls of the pit were smeared with the bloody handprints of its victims. The grouting held several broken fingernails belonging to those desperate souls that refused to die quickly.
Alexis shivered slightly as he contemplated his meeting with Roman Kordinski. Alexis held the total loyalty of most of his men. He would handpick a group of his most trusted soldiers to protect him. If Roman had designs on placing him in the inspection pit, then Alexis would slit his throat and find a new employer.
Chapter 26
Tank/ JCB
Tank pressed his foot to the floor forcing the accelerator as fast as it could go. Chen had raised the digger’s huge steel bucket to eye level to act as a battering ram. Tank clung to the steering wheel as the machine careered across the car park toward the casino wall. He flicked on the JCB’s lights and two powerful spotlights which were fixed to the roof of the yellow machine illuminated. The powerful beam cast the shadow of the digger’s teeth onto the casino wall, and they grew larger as the machine approached. Tank took the safety switch off his Glock 9mm and chambered a round, and then he replaced it in its holster.
“Hold on tight Chen,” shouted Tank over the noise of the diesel engine, “you break left on entry, I’ll break right.”
The huge yellow JCB weighed over 8 tonnes and it struck the casino wall at 40mph. The effect was devastating. The metal teeth on the bucket pierced the brick wall shattering brickwork over hundreds of yards. The casino wall collapsed beneath the gigantic force, and the machine crashed through the ruined brickwork as if it were matchwood. Chen covered his eyes, nose and mouth with his arms as the machine sprayed debris in all directions. The JCB screeched to a halt inside the main body of the casino. Slot machines and roulette tables were tossed in the air like balsa wood toys. Chen jumped from the slowing machine and rolled behind a bank of slot machines that were still standing. He identified a group of people in the centre of the building, some lying in shock on the floor, while others stood open mouthed. Chen was expecting heavy machinegun fire but none was forthcoming. The interior of the casino was bathed in the powerful beams of the spotlight. Deep long shadows were cast in the corners of the casino offering refuge to potential attackers.
Tank jumped left and took a covered firing position behind a slate dice table. He pointed the Glock toward the hostage position and then rotated the weapon looking for a target. Apart from the shocked civilians at the centre of the casino there appeared to be no other people present. Debris and broken wood crashed and rattled as Faz and the Armed Response Unit charged through the breached wall in support.
“Where are they Tank?” Grace Farrington asked on the open channel. The Armed Response Unit members secured the main area and then headed upstairs to clear the first floor.
“First floor area is clear,” said the voice of an Armed Response Unit officer.
“Raised platform area is clear,” said the voice of another.
Tank waved the unit to progress into the anterooms that surrounded the casino body. The gents and the ladies toilets were empty, as was the cloakroom.
“We have two men down in the strong room, multiple gunshot wounds,” said Chen from the back office.
Tank organised the removal of the hostages and then regrouped with the Task Force at the entrance of the back-up corridor, which led to the kitchen service areas. The power was turned back on illuminating the back-up corridor. It looked completely empty.
“There was an undercover Organised Crime Unit agent with the Brigade. He was informed about a ventilation shaft, which leads to the Mersey traffic tunnels. We know it’s located to the rear of the building. I think the agent has turned bad and the Brigade has used it as a getaway. If they have then they know that we will follow. There could be booby traps placed to hinder us so we do this by the book,” explained Tank, “first things first, let’s clear the building, and then we can find the shaft.” He pointed his hand toward the corridor and Chen entered it crawling on his stomach. Chen flashed a laser pen from floor to ceiling looking for trip wires. He signalled an ok with his hand indicating that he had found nothing. Chen took a cylindrical aluminium stun grenade from his battle vest. He twisted the cap, which activated it, and threw it down the corridor toward the kitchen. The grenade exploded in a blinding flash of phosphor light. The concussion wave from the device shook pots and pans free from their resting places and they clanged across the kitchen tiles. There was no enemy response.
“Corridor is clear,” Chen’s voice crackled on the open channel. The Terrorist Task Force agents poured down the corridor hugging the walls as they advanced. An Armed Response Unit officer reached the corner of the wash-up area when suddenly a volley of
9mm machine gunfire smashed into the tiles near his head. He recoiled quickly back into the kitchen area diving for cover.
“Shots fired from the rear service area, 9mm bullets from one machinegun,” said the agent from the kitchen floor.
Chen removed another stun grenade from his vest and signalled to Faz to do the same. Faz activated her thunder-flash device and rolled it into the wash-up area, seconds later Chen followed suit. The first grenade exploded with a huge flash of light and a deafening bang. Before the first concussion wave had finished the second grenade roared. The sound wave smashed tiles from the walls and the kitchen windows shattered. The whole purpose of concussion grenades was to completely immobilise enemy personnel without causing fatal injuries. They were especially effective in enclosed areas such as buildings or subways. Areas with strong acoustics such as concrete rooms or tiled areas amplified the devastating effects of the devices. Long seconds went by as the Terrorist Task Force waited for a response, and their patience was rewarded with a loud random burst of 9mm bullets, which ripped into the kitchen ceiling. Plaster fragments were blasted across a wide area, and the fluorescent light strip disintegrated into a thousand pieces.