Influence

by Andrew Snadden

  The door burst open so hard that it almost came off the hinges with the handle embedding itself into the stud wall as it did. Foster charged into the room as the two men jumped out of their skins and spun around with expressions of terror to see what had just smashed through their door. Foster pulled the trigger of the gun in a rhythmic sequence of two quick shots, followed by a millisecond pause and then a third, a technique designed to cause the maximum amount of fatal trauma to the victim. The three bullets accelerated at high velocity from the barrel, preceded by three eardrum bursting bangs that reverberated off the office walls. The first two 9mm rounds smashed through Cooper’s sternum and upper left rib, shattering the bones and sending the fragments pin balling around his chest cavity before severing his spinal cord and slicing through the right aorta of his heart. The third, went straight as an arrow between his eyes, through his skull, into his brain and out the other side. He was dead before he even had chance to focus on who had just burst through the door. His body slumped, leaning off to one side and slid down half a foot down into his chair.

  “SHOTS FIRED, SHOTS FIRED INSIDE THE WAREHOUSE.” Taggart yelled over the radio.

  Anaura swung around to face Richards, who stared back at him with an expression of extreme shock.

  “Team leader to OPS Command, we're coming into the industrial site now, ETA one minute!!!” O'Keeffe declared over the air with Allen behind him saying that he could not believe this was for real.

  Back inside the warehouse Foster was taking his time to finish the job, almost revelling in the fact that Bradford's death would return everything back to how it was before Op Barrier.

  “Please don't, don't do it! I'll make you a very rich man, whatever you're being paid, I'll triple it!” Bradford pleaded in a terrified voice.

  “You think this is about money?” Foster said in a manner devoid of emotion as he placed the gun into the centre of Bradford's forehead and held it there for a thirty seconds before saying “Enjoy Hell!” as he pulled the trigger.

  “ANOTHER SHOT FIRED!”

  “DRIVE IN THERE IAN!” Anaura yelled.

  Before Richards had a chance to put his foot down, the ARVs flew past the Mondeo and tore into the car park, where each of the fully kitted officers jumped out of their cars and covered the door of the building with their HK G36 assault rifles from behind their cars. As they stood in position waiting, the rain came crashing down on their ballistic helmets, playing havoc with their ear defender microphones and causing them to switch on and off as the water splashed over the speakers. O'Keeffe informed OPS Command that they were going to enter which prompted Drayson to grab his radio and yell that no one was to enter the building until he said so. O'Keeffe stood firm and said to others in his team that they should have been going inside straight away.

  Drayson's feet began rapidly tapping the floor with nervous energy.

  “OPS Command to O.P officers, remove yourselves from clear sight of the warehouse. Anaura keep your team away from the scene too!” The control Inspector ordered, following Drayson's interruption.

  Foster charged out of the room, down the metal stair case and into the dark expanse of the warehouse floor that he was now able to fully light up with his torch. There was no need to be invisible or quiet now; now was the time to extract from the scene as quick as humanly possible and to get himself as far away as he could. Then, he would set the car alight and report it stolen to ensure that if anyone had seen it, it would be linked to the spurious thief.

  Outside Richards pulled up to the gates of the warehouse where Anaura jumped out, telling the other three to stay where they were, and ran over to the firearms officers stood behind their cars. On seeing him appear, O'Keeffe shouted at him and asked what he thought he was doing. Anaura replied that it was imperative that he spoke to Foster before anyone moved in on him. Just as O'Keeffe was about to drag Anaura away from the area, Foster burst out of the main doors at speed and skidded to a halt as he saw the strobe effect of the ARV's blue light. O'Keeffe swiftly diverted his attention away from Anaura and towards Foster as the four other firearms officers trained their guns at him, barely able to see him through their rain covered masks and weapon sights that were covered with large droplets of water.

  “ALRIGHT GUYS!! Everything's sorted now!” Foster said with a smile.

  “Drop the weapon mate!” Potter pleaded with him.

  “What, what are you talking about? Did he tell you to come here to support me? Really, there's no need, it's all finished, I don't need help now!” Foster said with confusion as he tried to work out why they had come.

  O'Keeffe turned to Allen and MacNeil to ask what the hell he talking about as Potter continued to tell him to drop his gun. Anaura grabbed O'Keeffe by the shoulder and told him that he knew what Foster meant and implored him to let him have a go at negotiating a peaceful surrender. O'Keeffe pulled a bewildered expression in response before telling Anaura that there was no way on earth he would allow him talk to Foster when he was still armed. O'Keeffe pushed Anaura out of the way and began talking to Foster.

  “Anthony mate, we know how rough things have been for you, but we need you to drop the gun mate and come with us for a chat. No one's going to hurt you, we're your mates aren't we?!” O'Keeffe said.

  “I'm on the same team as you, why do I need to drop my gun? Who sent you here anyway? I never asked for support! I'm not having a rough time, things will be back to normal soon!” Foster replied with frustration.

  O'Keeffe explained to him that he needed to come with them to get help, a comment which agitated Foster even more and caused him to start shouting at them, again demanding to know who had sent them. O'Keeffe turned to Anaura and asked him to explain what was going on that instance. Anaura replied that he could not yet and asked O'Keeffe once again to let him speak to Foster, who was now pacing up and down in a highly agitated state, prompting his former colleagues to look through their rain covered sights at him in case he made a sudden aggressive move. O'Keeffe looked at Foster's body language and reiterated to Anaura to stay out of it as he was one of theirs. Richards, Valera and Usher looked on at the scene from the Mondeo with nervousness. The tension and fear of the situation was almost tangible.

  Just as Foster was finishing another remark about how he didn't need them and wanted them to leave to prevent the operation being compromised, Anaura cut over O'Keeffe and walked in the open gap between the two ARVs to talk to him. Allen attempted to grab him but Anaura dodged him and pushed him away. Realising that they needed to stay focused on Foster, O'Keeffe told Allen to leave Anaura and to concentrate on Foster.

  “Alright Anthony, how's it going mate?” Anaura said in a friendly tone.

  Foster asked who he was and whether he was part of the operation.

  “I'm DI Peter Anaura, Anthony. You probably don't know me but I'm here to provide you with whatever you need. But just so we're clear Anthony what operation are you talking about? Are Bradford and Cooper dead?”

  “You don't know about my assignment do you? Well if you don't have the clearance then I'm not telling you anything!” Foster said. His frustrated and cold expression flashing up between the intervals of the blue lights strobe effect and gushing rain.

  “Anthony, just tell me; are they dead?”

  “Course they are! I'm not a fucking amateur!” Foster barked.

  O'Keeffe looked at the other firearms officers in disbelief.

  “OK, OK Anthony, can we go inside to check them?”

  “No, not yet!” Foster said whilst moving from side to side with unease.

  Anaura asked Foster to tell him what he believed he had been told to do and whether there was anyone else involved in the operation. Foster continued to act defiantly, but after some influence and persuasion from Anaura, he began explaining that he was on a secret operation and that he had been ordered to do it by someone high up. He continued that he would not provide the exact details of the assignment as none of them had clearance before once again telling them
that they would have to speak to the man! Anaura decided that it was time to try and make Foster see that he had been used by Drayson, and to get him to say his name.

  “I know he told you to do this Anthony, and I know you think you're on an 'operation' but you're not mate! He's used you Anthony, he works for the Gang and wanted them silenced because of what they know about him. He's a piece of shit, he's used you to do the things he didn't have the bottle to do himself. It's not your fault, he's had us all fooled for years! Tell me his name and we'll get everything sorted out!” Anaura said with an empathetic tone.

  “You're wrong, there is an operation, he told me; why would he lie, he's a command officer?” Foster asked.

  The firearms officers looked on with shock as they started to realise that Foster had actually been told to do it by a high ranked officer.

  “Anthony, he's played us and he's playing you; we've all been played by the tosser, that's what he does! Put the gun down and let's talk about this somewhere dry shall we?

  “He said I would get back in the job if I took on this operation. It's all real, seriously I had the OP order and everything.”

  “No Anthony. Think about it, why would an honest command officer order you to kill anyone? He's lying! Drop the gun and tell me his name, we'll stop him together!” Anaura said gently.

  With his gun down by his side, Foster stopped pacing and began to sob as he shouted back at Anaura that what he was saying could not have been true. Anaura replied that he was sorry he had to tell him the truth but that he needed to in order to help him. Foster sobbed as he looked directly at Anaura and said that if he was right and it was all made up, he would be sent to a mental hospital for the rest of his life! Anaura said that he didn't need to worry about that for the moment and that he just needed to drop the gun and come with them to say who put him up to it. Foster repeated over and over again that it had to be real and that Anaura was wrong, despite deep down realising that his original doubts may have been right.

  “No Anthony, it's the truth mate, he's a criminal! He's the bad guy not you.” Anaura said.

  Foster stood there silently for a minute. Through the haze of confusion and the jumbled voices in his head, he had two thoughts, one he had compromised the operation and may have ruined his chance of getting back in the Force and two, that if Anaura was right, he would be locked away in a mental hospital without the chance of ever being released after what he had done. The stress began to overflow inside him, clouding his thoughts and judgement even more.

  As Anaura and the firearms officers waited for Foster to say something, they heard him begin to talk to himself.

  “Come on Anthony, drop the gun and tell me his name, I need to know his name to be able to help you.” Anaura pleaded with Foster once more.

  Foster looked up at his former police colleagues, the realisation dawning that he had been tricked by Drayson after all and would be going to a mental hospital after he was arrested. With the tears rolling down his cheeks and an anxious feeling developing in his stomach, Foster knew without a doubt that everyone had been right about him from the start; he really was ill.

  “This isn't real is it?” He asked Anaura, who shook his head with a caring expression.

  “I can't live in a mental hospital, I can't!” Foster said.

  Anaura told him again not to worry about that for now and to come somewhere dry with him to discuss who had put him up to it. Foster raised his arm and pointed his gun at Anaura.

  BANG, BANG. The first bullet hit Foster in his left shoulder, spinning him on his heels and causing him to drop the gun. The second hit him square in the chest half a second later and sent him crashing to the gravel floor.

  “OH GOD NO; NO!!!” Anaura screamed out as he spun round and threw his hands up to his face as if he was in agony whilst the firearms officers ran forwards to begin first aid. Allen and Lewis, who had fired the shots both stood still in total shock, unable to move or speak. O'Keeffe, Arthur and Potter started tearing Foster's shirt off to start treating his wounds. He didn't move or make a sound as Potter and MacNeil worked together as quickly as possible to try and save their friend and former colleague. O'Keeffe stood up and placed his hand over his eyes as he updated over the radio that shots had been fired and that they needed an urgent ambulance for Foster. Richards, Usher and Valera sat frozen in their seats, staring at out of the car's windows in shock.

  After O'Keeffe had finished with the radio, MacNeil looked up at him and shook his head slowly as the other firearms officers came over with looks of severe distress across their pale faces as they all suddenly realised what was going on. Foster was dead. Bradford and Cooper could wait.

  Potter looked down at Foster's gun that was less than ten feet away and proceeded to throw up as he saw that the safety catch was still on, so it could not have been fired; Foster would have known this! For the first time in many months though, Foster looked like he was at peace.

  In his office Drayson jumped to attention and asked for an update on Foster. Through his tears O'Keeffe responded that he and the Gang were all believed to be dead. Drayson confirmed he had received the update in a sympathetic tone, switched off his radio and leant back in his seat with his hands behind his head with a smile of pure corrupt satisfaction. With the Gang all dead and Foster too, there was nothing left to link him to any of it. What had once looked like a grave situation for him had now gone better than he could ever have hoped for. He picked up the glass of whiskey and took it out to the Command kitchen's sink where he poured it away with a huge smile.

  “Assistant Chief Constable Robert Drayson! I like the sound of that more and more.” Drayson said to himself.

  Anaura stormed away from the scene in a rage, swearing and kicking the floor as he walked. What he had just seen would haunt him for the rest of his life, there was no way Drayson was going to get away with this, chief superintendent or not.

  “Get out!” He said to the other three detectives in the car. Valera and Usher jumped out into the pouring rain, with not so much as an utter of protest after seeing Anaura's furious expression.

  “What are you going to do Peter?” Richards asked.

  “Get out Ian!”

  “No Peter, wherever you think you're going or what you're going to do, I'm coming with you!” Richards said without moving from his seat.

  Anaura walked around the car to the passenger seat and told Richards to take him to Central District as quickly as possible. Richards replied that if he was going to see Drayson, it was a bad idea and that he needed to cool off first as the trauma of what had just taken place would have been clouding his judgement. Anaura looked at him and then told him to drive. The Mondeo had barely come to a stop in the rear of the Central District Police Station yard before Anaura leapt out and charged towards the rear doors, followed by Richards in hot pursuit who had struggled to get out of the car quickly enough to catch him up.

  “Peter, calm down, don't do anything stupid!” Richards said. Anaura did not reply to him or a Response officer who greeted them as they went through the door. Anaura charged up the stairs towards the Command Suite and Drayson's office.

  “YOU PIECE OF SHIT!” Anaura said as he stormed into the office where

  Drayson had stood up after hearing Richards pleading with Anaura to stop. CRACK. Anaura punched Drayson flush in his face sending him reeling over his desk and on to the floor with a crash. Anaura went to hit Drayson again as he attempted to stand up in a daze until Richards grabbed him, desperately trying to stop his powerful friend from hitting the bastard again.

  “WHAT THE FUCK ARE YOU DOING ANAURA, I'LL HAVE YOU ARRESTED FOR THAT!” Drayson yelled out in anger and he climbed to his feet with a bloodied mouth.

  “ME ARRESTED, ME, YOU'RE THE ONE WHO'S GETTING ARRESTED MATE! I KNOW WHAT YOU ARE DRAYSON! YOU'LL PAY FOR FOSTER YOU FUCKING BASTARD!!!” Anaura bellowed at him whilst being held tight by Richards.

  Although shocked that Anaura had managed to link him to Foster, Drayson told hi
m that he would be out of the job by the morning and prosecuted for what he had just done. Anaura went to go for him again but was just about restrained by Richards again.

  “YOU'RE THE ONE WHO'S IN TROUBLE MATE, COME ON!” Anaura yelled.

  “For what? What evidence do you have? None I bet! Wild slanderous accusations, that along with that assault will cost you your job, you stupid bastard.” Drayson said with a smug expression and a huff.

  Anaura shook Richards off him and pointed a finger at Drayson whilst shouting how he would end him, to which Drayson laughed and asked how, opening his arms out inviting Anaura to hit him again. Anaura moved forwards to oblige but was restrained and pulled out of the office by Richards who was shouting at him to calm down. As he was ushered along the corridor away from Drayson's office, he shouted back to him that he was going to prison and that he would put him there himself. As they disappeared out of ear shot, Drayon took a deep breath through his anxiety. Anaura may have known everything but he would be able to prove nothing, especially when he would end up being ejected from the Force for assault, Drayson thought to himself. He reached down and picked up his stuff that had been propelled from his desk and placed them back from where they had come. Drayson wished that he had hit Anaura back, however, he knew full well that the satisfaction that would come from Anaura's arrest would be far more pleasing than a mere retaliation punch.

  Anaura and Richards climbed into the Mondeo and began heading back to Shoreton in silence. After travelling for about fifteen minutes, Richards asked him whether it had been worth losing his job for, to which Anaura responded that he couldn't have just sat back and watched Drayson get away with it after Foster had died. Richards shook his head and replied that the Scotland Yard superintendent would have got him when he began piecing everything together. But regardless of whether Drayson was caught out or not, Anaura would almost certainly lose his job. Anaura laughed to himself and replied that he would do again a thousand times over; he would rather lose his job than see a dirty copper get away with murder. They pulled up into the rear yard of the station, just as Anaura started to climb out he paused and sat back down.