A Real Job

by David Lowe

  ‘In one,’ McCullagh said, still keeping his revolver pointed at Debbie. ‘I believe the paymaster is another friend of Hurst’s? A Mohammed Sayfel.’

  ‘You know it is,’ she said seeing the signs indicating there were road-works ahead. To get out of this position, she was hoping there would be a traffic queue. Even if there was a queue forcing her to stop, having a gun in her ribs, she knew it would be difficult to disarm McCullagh.

  ‘I read the report on that Al Qaeda job he was involved in a few months ago. I have to say, that was pretty good police-work. Being on Sayfel’s hit list as well as ours, Hurst’ll be lucky to survive long enough to pick up his pension.’

  ‘Don’t you worry, he can look after himself,’ Debbie said seeing that one lane was blocked by large traffic cones filtering traffic from the offside to the nearside lane. Although it forced her to slow down, the traffic was too light to form a queue.

  ‘I’m not worrying about him anymore. Once Murphy pays me, I’m out of the country.’

  ‘What about your wife and children, aren’t they joining you?’

  ‘The kids are old enough to look after themselves and I stopped loving the wife years ago. So I’ll be a free man and where I’m going not even Hurst could find me.’

  ‘If you do anything to me, he’ll find you and make you pay,’ Debbie said accelerating back up to seventy miles per hour having gone through the road-works.

  ‘That sounds like you think I’m going to kill you.’

  ‘Aren’t you? Surly leaving me alive will be too risky?’

  ‘Unless you do something stupid, I’m not going to harm a hair on your head. No, if everything goes according to plan, I want Hurst to find you and know that I could have killed you. From what I’ve seen, that will eat the Scouse bastard up. Every time he looks at you, he’ll remember that there was nothing he could do to help you,’ McCullagh said as he started laughing, ‘and knowing it was me that nearly got Steve Adams killed in ninety-six, it’ll really eat him up.’

  Approaching Caeryws, Debbie remembered when travelling along this section in the past with David, he always slowed down saying that North Wales Police Traffic Department regularly had speed traps on this section of road. Accelerating up to over ninety miles per hour, she hoped they would be about and stop her for speeding. Sensing the car was picking up speed, McCullagh looked over at the speedometer and saw they were travelling at just over ninety miles per hour, heading up to a hundred. ‘Nice try,’ he said, ‘slow back down to seventy. We don’t want Traffic catching you speeding and making you stop, do we?’

  ‘I was trying to make good time. You don’t want to miss Murphy and his payout do you?’

  ‘Don’t worry about that. We’ve got plenty of time.’

  * * *

  George rang David back. Answering the phone, he said, ‘Make your way onto the A55. We’ve picked up the signal and she’s travelling through Wales, approaching St. Asaph. I’ve contacted North Wales Police and alerted them to what’s happening. They’ve circulated Debbie’s Saab, the registration number and their current location to all their patrols in the area.’

  ‘Thanks George, I’ll keep going along the A55 and see if I can catch them up.’

  ‘If you do, don’t get involved. Let North Wales do the stop. As I’ve a feeling McCullagh’s armed they’re sending armed response vehicles to the area. Once they’ve stopped the car and arrested McCullagh then you and Tony can assist North Wales.’

  Switching on the blue lights discreetly placed behind the front grille and the siren on their unmarked Special Branch car, David accelerated hard. First a kidnap and potential murder attempt on his sister, now his life partner was in danger. This was personal. All Hurst could think of doing was getting hold of McCullagh and killing him.

  Chapter Thirty-One

  Park Road, Liverpool,

  15.10 hours, Sunday, 7th July

  ‘We need to meet,’ O’Byrne said calling Declan Murphy’s mobile phone from a public phone box. Feeling frustrated, not only had it been difficult to find a public phone box, but the first two he found had been vandalised. He was also frustrated because he wanted to deeply hurt David Hurst. Having found out his parents’ address in Isaac Street, he wanted to kill them to show their son how the Real IRA could get to his family. After the failed kidnapping, this was still unfinished business for O’Byrne. Knowing Mary and James Hurst were old, the Irishmen knew his physical strength could easily over power them. After fruitless and loud knocking on the door, Mary Hurst’s next-door neighbour came out and told him they had gone away on holiday. With what happened the previous night, O’Byrne knew it was no holiday they had gone to, it must be an MI5 safe-house.

  ‘Are you fucking mad? The peelers are watching my house, ‘said an exasperated Murphy, ‘I can’t fucking move. When I do, it’ll be to make sure I get out of here away from the fucking peelers. No offence Rory, but you’re the last person I want to meet in Liverpool right now.’

  ‘I need my money to get back home, so don’t fucking run out on me now.’

  ‘I’m not, but we’ve got to be careful. The six I brought over here were arrested last night and along with trying to get Hurst’s sister last night, you escaping and now having Hurst’s tout killed, we’ve stirred up enough trouble.’

  ‘So you arranged for the bastard to be killed?’

  ‘Yes.’

  ‘I knew that peeler’s phone would come in useful.’

  ‘After you told me about the text you found on that phone you took that Adams’ sent about O’Leary being a tout, I got in touch with McCullagh. He made a few calls and got one of our old boys that’s still living in Manchester to do O’Leary in. He knew Hurst would go over to O’Leary’s after he got the touting bastard to call Hurst asking to see him.’

  ‘Good. I’ve no time for fucking touts. All that time we thought O’Leary was one of ours, but he was passing on everything he knew we were doing. He’s the fucking reason why everything’s gone tits up. Where’s McCullagh now?’

  ‘I’ve no idea. I can’t raise him at the moment. When I last spoke to him he said he was making his way to Holyhead to get the Dublin ferry as a foot passenger. He wants a meet in Wales this afternoon. Fuck that, if he thinks I’m going to break my cover to protect his arse. His usefulness has finished, so I’m cutting him free. If he gets arrested, there isn’t much he can do to damage us any more than we are already.’

  ‘Don’t you fucking run out on me like you’re doing to him.’

  ‘I’m not, but I’m fucked at the moment. I can only make one move out of here. Make your way to Holyhead and go to number four, South Stack Road. Ask for Kieran, I’ll ring him to expect you. Stay with him and I’ll meet you there tomorrow in the early afternoon. Then we can get the Dublin ferry as foot passengers.’

  ‘That sounds too risky. The peelers’ll be swarming all over the place.’

  ‘Don’t worry, Kieran’s got contacts that can get us onto the ferry, but only if we go as foot passengers. Don’t ring me on this mobile again. This phone’s at its sell by date and the peelers’ll soon be onto it. Make your way to Holyhead. Using the train might be your best bet to get there quickly.’

  * * *

  ‘Tango Sierra Three One, the target Saab’s been picked up on CCTV. It’s just gone past the fifty miles per hour sign and entering the Colwyn Bay section of the A55. Are your patrols in place?’ the North Wales force radio operator asked the sergeant in charge of the armed response units.

  ‘We’re ready to go. Let me know when they approach our position.’

  ‘Will do,’ the radio operator replied watching Debbie’s Saab travel along the section through Colwyn Bay.

  As Debbie approached the junction where the armed response units were waiting, the high brick wall prevented them from being seen by the approaching traffic. As she approached the s
lip road taking traffic from Colwyn Bay onto the A55, two of the response units drove off at high speed. With blue lights and sirens on, they joined the dual carriageway pulling out in front of Debbie’s Saab. At first Debbie braked hard, but did not have to stop as the drivers of the two police cars continued to travel in front of them, one in each lane preventing Debbie from getting past them. Both Debbie and McCullagh became aware of two more response cars joining the A55 and travelling right behind them.

  ‘The bastards! They’re doing a hard stop on us,’ McCullagh said looking all around him. Making sure his revolver was hard against Debbie’s ribcage, he could see there was no way they could get round the cars. Snarling, he said, ‘How the fuck did they know we were here?’

  ‘I don’t know,’ Debbie said, ‘as I’ve gone missing and can’t be raised, George has obviously put out an all ports bulletin out to look for the car.’

  ‘I’m not fucking stupid, you’ve got a fucking tracker on the car,’ McCullagh said as the two police cars in front of them started to display the flashing red stop sign.

  ‘I haven’t,’ Debbie said keeping one eye on a now agitated McCullagh while concentrating on not hitting the police cars in front of her.

  ‘Well how the fuck could they plan a hard stop at this location if they’ve not been tracking us?’ McCullagh said pressing the revolver even tighter into Debbie’s ribs, ‘you know as well as I do it takes planning and to plan, they need a fix on our fucking location.’

  ‘I thought you were a detective? Can’t you work it out? They can’t find me and they can’t find you. Someone’s probably seen us leaving your headquarters together. They’ve realised by now you’ve taken me as hostage and one possible escape route you’re using to get to Ireland is the A55. They’ve requested North Wales to conduct a search for us as its possible we would be on this road to get to Holyhead for the Irish ferry,’ Debbie said as the two leading response cars slowed down to twenty miles per hour, making Debbie drive at the same speed. ‘They’re going to stop us any second. Why not give yourself up?’

  ‘Fuck that,’ McCullagh said looking at the two response cars behind the Saab. Seeing the officers in the passenger seat were cocking their rifles, he said, ‘I’ve got you and they won’t shoot me while you’re in danger.’

  * * *

  ‘North Wales have spotted Debbie’s Saab. It’s still on the A55 by Colwyn Bay. Their armed response units are starting a hard stop now. What’s you location?’ George asked Hurst over the mobile phone speaker system in the car.

  ‘I’m approaching Colwyn Bay now. We’ve just past the seventy miles per hour signs. I’m literally minutes away,’ David said his heart racing. Suspecting McCullagh was armed, he knew this was the most dangerous part of the operation.

  ‘You made good time,’ George said, ‘you’re not to approach until the armed response units have carried out the stop. Do you understand?’

  ‘Understood, I’m slowing down now,’ and turning to Tony, David said, ‘If McCullagh lays just one finger on Debbie, I’ll kill him.’

  * * *

  The two response cars in front of Debbie slowed down to a virtual crawl with the two at the rear of the Saab, inches from its boot. Debbie saw the officers in the passenger seats in the two cars in front had hold of their rifles. She knew that any second they would have to stop. ‘Don’t try to be the hero,’ McCullagh said to Debbie, ‘if you do, I’ll fucking kill you.’ Seeing McCullagh’s hands shaking, Debbie didn’t know if they were shaking with anger or fear, she knew that one wrong move from her, he’d kill her.

  The two response cars in front stopped, forcing Debbie to do the same. As she was unbuckling her seat belt, the doors of the response cars were flung open as the officers got out of their vehicles. Swiftly taking up positions in front of the Saab and pointing their rifles at the car, one of the officers shouted, ‘Armed police, don’t move.’ Glancing over at McCullagh, the revolver was still stuck in her ribs.

  Turning to look behind him at the officers from the response cars at the rear of the Saab, McCullagh inadvertently moved the weapon out from Debbie’s ribs. Momentarily transfixed as he watched where the armed officers from the rear were positioning themselves, Debbie felt the pistol move from her ribcage. Seeing the tip of the pistol barrel was now pointed at the dashboard, with the flat of her hand Debbie punched McCullagh hard in the throat. Causing McCullagh to raise his arm, the weapon fell from his hand. As he began gasping for breath, McCullagh raised his hands to his throat. Debbie seized the moment. Elbowing him hard in the ribs McCullagh gave out an involuntary groan as the blow forced him to exhale. Debbie opened the driver’s door flinging herself out of the car.

  One of the officers in front of Debbie raised his rifle, pointing it directly at her. In response, Debbie raised her hands shouting, ‘I’m not armed. I’m MI5.’ The other armed officers opened the passenger door, grabbed McCullagh’s hands, shouting, ‘Don’t resist, get out of the car.’ The officers dragged him out of the car, laying him face down on the road surface. Two pointed their rifles at McCullagh as the third officer shouted, ‘Don’t move. I’m going to search you. If you move, we’ll shoot. Do you understand?’

  Cursing Debbie under his breath, he knew he had to follow the armed officer’s instructions. ‘Alright, Alright, I’ll do as you say,’ McCullagh said, his voice croaking from the blow Debbie had given him in his throat. Resigned to the fact he was in a no-win situation he said ‘I’ve no gun. It’s in the foot-well. That bitch got it off me.’

  * * *

  ‘North Wales have done the hard stop. Debbie’s safe and McCullagh’s been arrested,’ George said over the radio.

  ‘Thank Christ for that, cheers George,’ David said slowing the car down to a virtual crawl. Knowing North Wales Police would have blocked the road, the vehicles in front of David had come to a halt. David kept the blue light and siren on. Like a parting of the waves, the vehicles moved to either side of the dual carriageway forming a narrow pathway that David negotiated until he reached a North Wales armed response officer that was keeping the vehicles away from the scene. As David approached, the officer raised his hand signalling David to stop. As he pulled up, the officer came to the driver’s door window that David put down. Showing his warrant card, David said, ‘DS Hurst, GMP Special Branch. I’m involved in the same job as the MI5 officer that you’ve stopped.’

  ‘OK, go through and pull up over there on the left,’ the officer said pointing to a space behind one of the armed response cars parked at the rear of the incident.

  David and Tony got out of their car. ‘You stay there and I’ll see if I can find Debbie,’ David said as he began to run up to her Saab. As he reached the leading response car, the front passenger door opened and Debbie emerged. Running up to her, he wanted to grab her, hold her hard, kiss her and tell her how much he loved her. Being watched by a couple of the armed response officers and passersby gawping at the scene, his character trait of not showing any emotion took over. ‘Debbie, are you alright?’ he asked calmly.

  ‘I’m fine. Thank god you remembered about my personal phone and got a fix on it. I knew you would.’ Debbie said and then gently kissed him on the lips.

  David’s cool facade cracked. Smiling, he said, ‘Did he hurt you?’

  ‘No, he had a revolver pointed at me all the time but when North Wales stopped us, I gave him a very sore throat,’ she said smiling back at David, ‘and he’s now on his way to Llandudno police station.’

  ‘First Steve, then they go for Siobhan now you. If I get my hands on the fucker I’ll kill him.’ As they spoke, the firearms sergeant got out to the leading response car and walked over to them. On seeing him, David said, ‘I take it you’ll want the Saab for forensics?’

  ‘I do. When I saw you running up, your partner here told me you were DS Hurst working on a job with Cheshire,’ the officer said extending his hand to David, �
�Geraint Williams, sergeant of the armed response, pleased to meet you.’

  David shook the sergeant’s hand and said, ‘Thanks for what you did. You don’t know how grateful I am to you.’

  ‘We had little to do,’ Geraint Williams said pointing to Debbie, ‘she can more than look after herself. I believe the bloke we’ve nicked is a Special Branch DI?

  ‘Not anymore,’ David said, ‘Is it OK if I take Debbie to Llandudno? She can do her statement there and we can fill the investigating officer in on the background to how this happened.’

  ‘Fine with me David, and once the car’s free, I’ll let you know.’

  David shook hands with the firearms sergeant once more and said, ‘You really don’t know how grateful I am to you and your team.’

  Chapter Thirty-Two

  Special Branch Office,

  Cheshire Headquarters,

  19.05 hours, Sunday, 7th July

  With Tony, David walked into Cheshire’s ISB main office where Steve Adams was sitting down with Andy Curtis and members of his team from Merseyside. Having his back to David, Steve did not see him enter. As soon as Andy saw them, he stood up and said, ‘Here’s David. Is Debbie OK?’

  As Andy spoke, Steve looked round. On seeing his DS, he stood up and walked over to him as David said, ‘She’s fine thanks. When we got back to Chester, I dropped her off at the hotel so she can get her head down. She hasn’t had any sleep for nearly thirty-six hours now so she’s really knackered.’

  ‘And I bet when you two got back to the hotel she didn’t go to sleep straight away,’ Steve said, holding out his hand to David, ‘you’re looking a little knackered yourself there mate!’

  ‘Cheeky fucker,’ David said embracing his old friend.

  ‘When we found out what happened with McCullagh, we were worried for her. In all seriousness is she alright?’ Steve asked.

  ‘You know Debbie, she can more than look after herself,’ David said pleased to see familiar, reliable faces around him.