Retribution

RETRIBUTION

(PART 3)

BY

WALLACE

I was coughing a lot, I remember that much and the air was full of smoke and smelt bad, like burning rubber. My ears were ringing and there was stuff on top of me. Not heavy stuff, I guessed it must be broken ceiling tiles. Emma was moving underneath me.

"Ow! Get off me! It feels as if you've crushed my ribs!" I wasn't really fully conscious, I don't think.

"You never used to complain. What's the matter? Am I "handling" you wrong?"

"Bastard!"

"Alright you two! You're both in shock. Bill, I want to get you off of Emma if I can. Can you feel your arms and your legs? Can you move them? Gently now!" Charlie was kneeling beside us in the remains of the Rest Room already wearing disposable rubber gloves. A couple of the lights had been broken but apart from some local damage, like the scorched and blistered counter where the bags had been, the place looked fairly intact. I tried a few experimental moves that Emma took the brunt of.

"My legs and arms are okay but my back feels like it's on fire!"

"So does my chest!"

"Oh shut up Emma! If you thought a bit more about other people's feelings we might not be in this mess!"

"And that means what exactly?" I didn't answer because right then I wasn't too sure myself, but it is always unwise to ignore a woman when she is asking questions, and Emma was no exception. "Well bollocks to you! Just walk out of here and get yourself bloody killed…" I wasn't in the mood for this.

"With you around that seems likelier by the minute. I mean how did the bomb get in my bag in the first place?" The question hung heavily in the air for what seemed like several minutes. But finally Emma answered.

"Are you accusing ME? Are you saying I did it?" she said in disbelief. Her voice grew quiet, "You utter, utter, fucking arsehole!" Well I WAS in shock.

"Can't see anyone else around I distrust that much!" Now I'd done it. There was a long, long pause.

"Well, fuck you! You ungrateful bastard! Fuck you! That miserable bitch you're always pining after is welcome to you!" Now there was a sneer in her voice, " But even SHE doesn't want you anymore does she?" to say that I'd hurt her would be an understatement. she was sniffing back tears that she didn't want me to see.

And how did I feel?

Satisfied, pleased with myself, smug. Like the horrible bastard that I am sometimes, that maybe we all are occasionally.

I'd taken a lot recently.

Sheila and Linda had been kidnapped and I'd killed someone getting them back. Then I'd just found out that I probably had a price on my head because of it and now Heather and Ally and Angela were missing and so was Sarah Beaumont. I'd lost Sheila, the impossible woman I knew I loved. I'd also just been blown up, the woman that I thought I loved probably didn't love me, probably shagged me because she was told to and there was also the possibility, or was it just my own paranoid imagination? That she had something to do with all this.

"Right, the ambulance is on its way and the Bomb squad should be here soon as well, Liverpool Street is closed and so is Bishopsgate and they're evacuating the surrounding buildings and the station as a precaution. There don't seem to be any other casualties. How are they Charlie?" Inspector Martin was already kneeling next to her as he spoke. I could imagine Charlie looking up at him.

"Well, they're arguing which is a good sign…" She addressed me, "Bill, you've got some injuries to your back which are going to need looking at …" I noticed her gloves were bloody and I looked up at her.

"How bad?" She didn't smile

"I don't know. We need to get your shirt off and take a look. Well Bob?" Inspector Martin was also wearing disposable rubber gloves. He had been inspecting the remains of my luggage.

"Not subtle. I'd guess at a small amount of semtex in a jiffy bag with a lot of broken glass and a mobile phone. A basic anti personnel device. If you had been looking into your bag at the time Bill it would have probably taken your head off. But you managed to get yourself and Emma far enough away to avoid most of the blast. These things are not much use outside of a three metre or so radius depending on how much explosive there is, of course. Here, let me help!"

Charlie already had hold of one arm and the Inspector took the other. Very, very, carefully they helped me stand up

"Well this is nice! First day back and someone tries to blow us up. I was safer playing golf!" It was an unfamiliar voice and I looked up to see a slight but tall white haired man with a ruddy complexion and a pleasant smile on his face standing in the doorway. He was wearing a dark suit, a white shirt and a silver tie. The Inspector spoke first

"Hello Sir. Wasn't expecting you back for another week!" The white haired man smiled.

"Storms Bob. Summer storms. Malaga airport was flooded for a day and a half. The courses were unplayable. Anyway, " he looked around him, "looks like I might come in handy!" The Inspector nodded,

"Well sir, as you're here you COULD take the Press Briefing," he was still holding me by the arm. " Bill, this is my boss, Detective Chief Superintendent Ramsey. Sir, this is Bill Rodgers. You know, the Chandler business?" The Chief Superintendent looked at me sympathetically.

" It's still not over then!" There was blood running down my arm and onto my wrist and hand. It didn't seem to bother him; he took it in both of his and clasped it warmly

"Nice to meet you at last Bill! Ron Ramsey. We WILL sort this out I promise you, I've been bringing myself up to speed downstairs. You are in the very best possible hands believe me…"

At that moment Jimmy came through the door holding a printout in his hand. He looked at the Superintendent in mock surprise.

"'Allo guv, thought you were still up to yer neck in golf balls!" The Superintendent smiled.

"I missed YOU Jimmy!" Sergeant Clarke grinned

"Yeah about as much as you'd miss piles!" He looked at me with concern, "You all right, my son?" And when I nodded he nodded back and then turned to the Inspector "Sorry to interrupt guv, but this just came off the monitoring computer. A 999 call about 5 minutes ago. Attempted abduction, residents report gunfire, car park, Tobacco Dock, 13.15 and 20 seconds, called in originally by," and here he gave me a worried look, " Linda Hutton!"

*

"Well, guv? Does this change things?"

"No Jimmy, not one iota! You know, I'm sure Jaguars are for Superintendents and above. Has it got a siren?"

"Yes guv! And a light!" The Inspector nodded.

"Use 'em! " He turned to Charlie who was sitting in the back seat. "Have you got your belt on?" she was studying some papers, her legs crossed, glasses on the end of her nose, biting the end of a pen. She looked up absently.

"What? Oh belt. Er, okay!" Even as she said it Jimmy was placing the magnetic blue flashing light on the roof of the car with one hand and flicking on the siren with the other, whilst still managing to hold onto the steering wheel. There was a sudden surge of power that pushed them back against their seats as he accelerated and eased the big car across the lunchtime traffic and down Middlesex Street the wrong way.

"Let's hope there are no stalls out today!" Muttered the Inspector as Jimmy hurled the car down the street that on Sundays was better known as Petticoat Lane. He was about to look out of the window when he suddenly turned to Jimmy and said,

"That mate of yours, the traffic warden? No point keeping him any longer. Tell Leman Street to let him go!" Jimmy flicked him a glance and then nodded, a grim expression on his face.

*

The electric window glided downward as the body armoured, booted and helmeted figure carrying a Heckler and Koch MP5 semi automatic machine gun in both hands walked towards them. The Inspector showed his warrant card.

"Chief Inspector Martin, SO 31. What's the situation?" The uniformed man touched the peak of his helmet.

"Sergeant Warren sir, SO19. The building is now secure. There is one possible fatality and we have a female with a suspected broken arm, ambulance on its way. The bandits are long gone. We've got a wrecked all terrain vehicle, a partial registration on a large white van, possibly a Mercedes, and enough spent shells to make the place look like a firing range. Lucky no one was killed! And they took their injured with them." The Inspector looked puzzled.

"This possible fatality…" but the sergeant anticipated him.

"A bandit sir. One of the victims," he grinned to himself "if that's the right word, thinks she's Wonder Woman and says she may have killed a motorcyclist who was going straight for her friend - with a whip !" Charlie looked up from her papers.

"Linda Hutton." She said quietly. The Sergeant was nodding.

"That's right ma'am. Thing is, her story is consistent with the evidence. There's the remains of a Harley Davidson in the street and…." The Inspector looked around him. They were at the foot of the concrete ramp that led up to the tall, brick built car park that from the outside looked more like a factory or warehouse, he had already seen the fire engines in Wapping Lane. The air was filled with the sound of sirens. It seemed as if every Police Car in East London was parked in either Wapping Lane or Pennington Street and the Police Helicopter was fluttering somewhere overhead. He held up a hand.

"Thank you Sergeant, you've been very concise. May we go up?" The Sergeant looked a little relieved.

"Yessir, Inspector Carter is expecting you." In the driver's seat Jimmy acknowledged the Sergeant as well, said,

"Cheers mate!"

And took the big blue car slowly up the ramp.

They passed more police vehicles on their way to the top of the car park, motorcycles mainly but the odd white Land Rover and Transit Van were present as well. There was at least one armed policeman on every floor. At the very top were three armoured vans with heavy wire mesh over their windscreens and one car with its doors open, The sound of police radios was everywhere. In the absence of direction Jimmy parked on the west side of the building and opened the doors to let everybody out.

There was a small huddle of people around a yellow and green motorcycle on the north side up against the low parapet. The wrecked 4X4 was off to their left. The whole roof area was pock marked with bullet scars but it was worse here. They trod carefully to avoid spent shells. It was still bright but a strong wind was starting to gust northwesterly across the open tarmac. They could now see, rather than just hear, the helicopter that was sweeping the area for the white van.

One person stood out amongst the others, a tall woman dressed entirely in leather and shielding her eyes from the early afternoon sun. She smiled as they got nearer and put out a hand,

"'Allo Jimmy, you still in plain clothes? Thought they'd have busted your balls down to uniform by now!" Jimmy Clarke clenched Linda Hutton's hand in his,

"YOU'RE the only ball buster I know 'utton!" He looked her up and down," Fuck me! You get taller every time I see ya!" They both grinned. Inspector Martin was watching with a bemused expression on his face.

"Didn't know you two knew each other…" but Linda stepped in before he could finish.

"I know you too! Bob Martin. You WERE a sergeant… Lord Justice Carson… remember?" The Inspector looked thoughtful.

"Couldn't forget that one. I was in the Club and Vice Squad. Case hinged on whether the old boy was using prostitutes or not. The defence argued that Lynn Hutchins…"

"…was not a prostitute because she did not have sex with her clients for money and merely provided 'em with a service and Sergeant Martin agreed with 'em." The Inspector studied her closely. For a few seconds he looked dumbfounded.

"Bloody hell! You're Lynn Hutchins." Now it was his turn to shake hands with the woman now known as Linda Hutton.

"Yeah, changed me name, well so would you if you had an old man like mine!"

"Yes but you've altered. You're so much taller, you've filled out." Linda smiled.

"I WAS only nineteen. Nearly twenty years ago now." Already Linda's gaze was turning. Turning toward the only member of the threesome that she did not know.

She and Charlie looked at each other for some time. They were dressed similarly in leather but while Linda's outfit was burgundy, the skirt and boots that Charlie wore and the long leather coat she had put on over them were a lighter red. It soon became obvious that there was an unspoken conversation going on between them. Eventually Linda said,

"I get this feeling I should know you!" Charlie stood her ground.

"Perhaps you do." She said quietly and held out her hand. " Doctor Charlotte but I prefer Charlie, Wright - Patterson, I'm a forensic psychiatrist." The handshake lasted longer than it should have done.

"You're a whatchacallit… a profiler then!" Charlie nodded,

"Among other things. I also make the tea, listen to grievances, sort out arguments and patch people up because I trained in medicine… which, reminds me," The Inspector interrupted.

"Actually Charlie, why don't you talk to Linda whilst we talk to…"

"It's Liz. Liz Fisher." Linda smiled a quite dazzling smile, "You might not get a lot out of her right now, the paramedic," She indicated the yellow and green motorcycle, "reckons she's broken a bone in her upper arm which he says is known for bein' "exquisitely painful"!" Charlie agreed,

"Yes it is. It is very, very painful. Walking hurts, even breathing hurts." Linda nodded

"Mmm, well he's put it in a sling and she's on gas to relieve the pain 'til the ambulance gets here." She put her finger close to her forehead and twisted it, "High as a kite at the moment, so don't expect too much!" She turned to Charlie, "Are you SURE I don't know you?"

Charlie looked at her with a smile,

"Perhaps in another life," she took her by the arm, "can you tell me what you remember while it's still fresh?" And led her away to the other side of the car park whilst Jimmy and the Inspector squatted down next to Liz who was propped up against the parapet with a silver thermal blanket round her. The Inspector spoke first,

"Ms Fisher…" Liz giggled

"I'm not a Miz. Mizzes are all lesbians and I'm only just starting." She looked at the Inspector as if seeing him for the first time, "Bet you've got a nice bum!" The Inspector raised his eyebrows at Jimmy but Jimmy had already turned away and was studying the view of London much more intently than he really needed to.

*

"Well Charlie, get anything? " Charlie coughed.

"Yeah, pneumonia I think! It was freezing on that bloody roof." Jimmy looked at her in the driving mirror.

"Put yer thermals on girl! If you're gonna run around with yer bits out what do you expect?" Charlie smiled

"You sound like my Granny!" Jimmy took a right turn threading the steering wheel carefully through his hands as he did so.

"I feel about the same age sometimes luv!"

"Jimmy isn't this the, er "pretty", way back to Liverpool Street?" The Inspector was looking out of the car window. It was dark now. There was rain in the air and the light had faded quickly. It was just coming up to four O'clock in the afternoon.

"Yes guv. I just thought we might 'ave a little look around. That van seems to have disappeared into thin air and it has to be somewhere. They've either dumped it, got it in a lock up or…" Charlie was biting her pen again

"…laid low for a while until we forget about them." Jimmy smiled self deprecatingly.

"See? You know my methods already Watson!" Charlie couldn't help but smile broadly back. The Inspector was still studying the scenery. They were passing through an area of fairly low concrete flats built in the sixties.

"This is Chrisp Street Market."

"That's right guv. With all the estates round here it's lock up city AND if they're not East or North London based it would be very 'andy for the tunnel and South of the River!"

Jimmy steered the car into East India Dock Road, a noisy, dirty, artery lined with quaint little Docklands Light Railway stations that takes traffic from the city into East London and Essex and which at that time of day was filled almost entirely with heavy lorries. Off to the right and invisible from where they were was the Blackwall Tunnel that took traffic under the Thames and into South London and Kent.

Charlie saw it first.

They were sitting at traffic lights that seemed to be stuck permanently on red

" Bob, Jimmy, down that side road. Quick!" The brightly lit sign at the front of the building proclaimed it as "Kumar's Cash And Carry". It had a loading bay in a side street that was currently open. A large white Mercedes van was backing slowly inside it whilst a smaller blue transit van sat outside, its exhaust visible in the cold evening air. The Inspector was peering out of the window.

"Your eyes are better than mine Jimmy, what's the registration?".

"Er, Echo- Six- Zero- Six- Papa- Tango –Yankee." Charlie consulted her notes.

"Linda's a very good witness, she remembers details and things that other people don't. Ah, here it is! She got the first half and it's E606… that's it! That must be the one!" The Inspector took charge.

"Jimmy call it in! Tell Control we need back up including SO19. Tell them we will eyeball but do nothing else. Repeat, eyeball only!"

"Righto guv!" Jimmy was already radioing the details when Inspector Martin suddenly hit the dashboard with his open palm

"Damn!" Charlie tried to follow his gaze

"Bob, what's wrong?"

"Over there. Look!" About fifty yards back down the road sat an empty police car. Already two uniformed officers were walking purposefully towards the blue transit van that they could now see was parked on a double yellow line. Without looking away the Inspector said quietly.

"Get onto MP Jimmy, tell them to get those officers withdrawn immediately for their own safety!" Jimmy had anticipated him and was making an urgent request just as the sound of gunfire rose above the noise of the Monday evening traffic.

*

It was a long drive. Heather stayed awake all the time but Angela and Ally dozed fitfully, their heads supported comfortably enough by her bare shoulders. She closed her eyes occasionally but all the time she was covertly studying the two silver figures sitting opposite her and in particular the slightly smaller of the two, the one who had proved surprisingly sympathetic.

These silver beings reminded her of something. Of something that she had seen probably a long time ago but she couldn't remember what it was. It might have been on TV and it seemed to have a British connotation with her as well, but then lots of things did, being married to an Englishman as she was.

She watched their movements.

Angela couldn't speak and Ally was quietly terrified but she would have expected people sitting together to hold some sort of conversation or at least speak occasionally.

These two didn't.

Their movements were strange as well as if they were restricted in some way. They were wearing extremely high heels, thick gloves and masks but at no point did they try to adjust them or even scratch. They just sat there hands by their sides, cattle prods on their laps, hardly moving, never speaking and Heather knew she had to find out why.

*

It was rapid fire, possibly from a machine pistol like an Uzi. Jimmy was already gunning the big engine. The Inspector did not take his eyes off the scene behind him. Both policemen were wearing stab vests but stab vests would not hold up under a barrage of 9mm shells.

One had ducked behind a van opposite the blue one; the other was crawling towards a large wheelie bin.

"Jimmy, did I see a 728 about you the other day?"

"Yes guv, there WAS a memo. Owing to the number of attempts that there have been on your life in the last year I now 'ave the same status as a member of the Royalty Protection Branch and I carry a firearm at all times." The white van was almost fully inside the Cash and Carry and the driver's door was opening.

"What have you got?"

"Glock 17, 9mm automatic. Small, light and fast." Charlie looked at him for a second and blinked but said nothing.

A figure dressed totally in black and wearing a ski mask was stepping out of the white van. The Inspector spoke quietly.

"Okay, no heroics, if we go out there we're going to get mown down. Charlie, you MUST stay where you are. Jimmy, I want you to turn the car round as best you can and I want you to aim it straight for the blue van and if the bandit in the ski mask gets in the way so be it. Okay?" Jimmy nodded.

"Yes guv. Blues and twos? " The Inspector rubbed his chin.

"Mmm, flashing light AND siren might take 'em by surprise." Charlie looked sceptical.

"And it might draw their fire towards us and into the traffic." The Inspector thought for a moment.

"It's a chance we'll have to take. Jimmy, you only use your gun if there is no alternative. Okay, let's do it!" Jimmy made the big engine roar again as he slipped the blue flashing light on to the roof and flicked on the siren, it joined the others that were already becoming audible in the night air. Then he turned on the indicators and began to push his way out of the lane in which the big car was in.

"Come on you buggers MOVE!" the Inspector turned to Charlie.

"You can see what's happening better than I can. Tell us what you can see. I might have to get out and direct the traffic!" Charlie nodded briefly and then turned to look out the back window.

"The man in black, he's out of the van. He's got something in his hand. It has to be a weapon. It's quite small, bulky and black. He's walking towards the policeman behind the bin. Come on Jimmy! Come on! He's looking round. He's heard the siren. He's still walking forward." The Inspector already had his door open.

"Jimmy give me your gun!" Jimmy had the car between lanes now but progress was slow.

"Guv you can't…"

"Just give it to me... and a couple of clips!" reluctantly Jimmy took the surprisingly small weapon out of his shoulder holster and handed it to the Inspector who gave it a cursory inspection. He then delved into his pocket and pulled out two small, dark objects that looked vaguely like cassettes. The Inspector took them, dropped them into his own pocket and nodded his thanks.

"Soon as you can Jimmy!" Grey Crombie overcoat flapping in the breeze, gun held low in his right hand, Inspector Martin walked through the near stationary traffic until he could see the black clad gunman bearing down on the policeman behind the wheelie bin. He stopped in the centre of the road put his feet apart and raised the gun slowly, using his left hand to steady it. He shouted over the noise of the traffic

"ARMED POLICE OFFICER. PUT DOWN YOUR WEAPON AND LAY DOWN ON THE FLOOR!" The figure stopped and turned slowly as if in surprise. It gave the officer behind the wheelie bin the chance he needed.

The man in the ski mask looked at the Inspector for a brief moment but already he was turning away. Metropolitan Police rules state that every opportunity must be given to an armed person to put down their weapon before they are engaged. Once again the Inspector shouted.

"ARMED POLICE! PUT DOWN YOUR WEAPON!" The officer behind the bin was on his feet and had extended his baton. He took two paces toward the man in the ski mask before crashing to the ground in a fusillade of bullets.

The man was side on to him. The Inspector had no choice. Above him he could hear the blades of India Nine Zero, the police helicopter, beating steadily against the evening air. The noise of sirens was coming at him from all directions. He took a deep breath and squeezed the trigger.

There was no doubt in his mind that the man was turning to face him once more before he was dragged from his feet seemingly by nothing more than a series of sharp noises that first stopped him stone dead and then made him waddle puppet like in the road before collapsing to the floor, his head nothing more than a heap of molten red sludge.

*

It was quiet.

Everything seemed still and peaceful.

She had to think for a moment and then she realised where she was.

She must have dozed off, her head against Ally's but now she was awake.

Fully awake.

The silver creatures were moving now.

The little one was next to Ally, touching her, urging her gently into wakefulness, one hand resting on the tattoo of an eagle that covered most of her upper back. The other one was next to Angela rubbing a gloved hand lightly against her cheek.

She moaned a little, raised her head to look at Heather, grimaced with something that looked almost like a wink and then straightened up.

The back doors of the van opened onto bright white nothingness.

Now the tall silver one was entering carrying a small leather case which she rested on the side of the ambulance where the two smaller silver beings had been sitting.

She opened the case, and then walked towards Allison.

Heather regarded the silver creature steadily.

Like Ally she was barefoot and in her underwear with her hands tied behind her back but she wasn't totally helpless, her feet were still free.

The tall one approached Ally and stood looking down on her.

Sensing her fear, playing on it, feeding on it.

Heather shifted imperceptibly in her seat hoping that somehow her closeness and the warmth of her body would give her some kind of comfort. Slowly Ally raised her head to look at the silver woman in front of her.

She raised her head until her eyes were in contact with whatever was behind the eye sockets in the silver mask. Heather's stomach lurched in anticipation as the silver being slowly raised a hand and touched Ally's left breast.

Ally did not move.

She remained utterly still.

Her eyes fixed on whatever there was behind the mask.

Heather wasn't religious although she had been raised as a Catholic but now she prayed silently to anyone at all for Ally to stay together and not be fazed by her silver nemesis.

The hand began to move. It moved downward and then upward again cupping Ally's generous breast feeling it, savouring it.

With a rising sense of unease Heather watched helpless as the silver figure shifted its position. It moved forward a fraction shifting its feet so that they were planted firmly on the floor of the van about eighteen inches apart and whilst it still had gentle hold of Ally's breast and maintained eye contact, it moved its free hand slowly down until it was resting just below Ally's naval.

Heather shifted in her seat. Suddenly she could feel sweat on her forehead. A fully awake Angela was moving restively against her but the smaller silver creature next to her had a gentle hand on her shoulder trying to calm and restrain her without too much force.

The other small one, the one that fascinated Heather, had moved position too. Heather looked up at the still and impassive silver being. She couldn't be sure but she thought she saw it shake it's head as if communicating with her silently and telling her to do nothing.

She turned back to Ally who was still staring up at the silver being as if mesmerized.

Slowly, ever so slowly, the creature's right hand began to move downward until it was just cupping Ally's shaven pubis. Still she didn't move. Still she looked up at the alien creature.

There was a gasp, it was low and almost inaudible and to her shame Heather realised that it had come from her and not from Ally and even now she watched in horror as the silver creature's hand moved lower and lower still until it covered Ally's crotch completely.

The next move was inevitable.

The sweat seemed to be dripping off Heather's forehead as Ally, without any command whatsoever hands tied behind her as they were and naked apart from her skimpy black mesh underwear began to slowly part her thighs.

Heather tensed her muscles but her silver companion shook her head once more.

Head still back, eyes still focused intently on the tall silver being, legs now as wide as the cramped space would allow, Ally did not flinch as first one and then two silver gloved fingers entered the puffy, crinkled outer lips of her vagina and began to probe gently inside.

*

There was a moment's silence and even years of policing could not prevent the feeling of horror that the Inspector felt as the virtually headless man that he had just shot and killed slumped to the floor, blood spattering onto the tarmac and the nearest vehicles.

But he didn't have time to wallow because, even now, the back doors of the small blue van were being flung open and two, possibly three figures, dressed entirely in black and wearing ski masks were spilling out onto the street.

For a moment the Inspector stood stock still, transfixed by the horror and the futility of it all but a sudden shout from somewhere behind him dragged him from his reverie.

"OUT THE WAY GUV! CAN'T AFFORD TO LOSE YOU RIGHT NOW!"

Jimmy had finally managed to turn the big car and was already accelerating forward. Off to his right he could see the blue flashing lights of a police car; probably the local Armed Response Vehicle that was tucked behind a bus and was even now disgorging armed officers into the street.

There were three black clad figures in the main road now and all three were heading towards the nearest vehicle, a single decked, number 106 bus, on its way to the Blackwall Tunnel.

The Inspector blinked.

If this turned into a hostage situation it would be horrendous.

Suddenly he remembered Jimmy and literally had to throw himself out of the way as the big engine roared and the brand new Jaguar that was actually assigned to Detective Chief Superintendent Ronald Ramsey careered past him and ploughed into the three armed men as if they were no more than skittles.

One was hit full on and was dragged under the chassis.

Another crashed onto the bonnet and was thrown off to the left landing just a few feet from a Heavy Goods Vehicle bound for Dover.

The third was struck a glancing blow by the left wing and was able to roll to safety. Even now he was staggering to his feet and aiming at the vehicle that had killed at least one of his colleagues.

Hairs prickling on the back of his neck, his pulse racing, the Inspector shouted a warning.

"JIMMY! CHARLIE! GET OUT OF THERE NOW!"

The road at that moment was the noisiest place the Inspector could ever remember being in.

Sirens; the beating of helicopter blades, the revving of engines, the sound of people screaming and now the steady rat-tat tat of gunfire all filled the cold evening air.

The man nearest him opened fire on the unmarked Jaguar raking it from one end to the other with nine millimetre shells. The Inspector looked up desperately but Jimmy was already out and was half dragging; half pulling Charlie into the road but the reluctant Charlie wanted her notes from the back of the car.

The Inspector could only watch as Jimmy shouted something that could only have been

"Fuck your notes!" before grabbing Charlie by the hand and wrenching her forward just as more gunfire lanced into the petrol tank and the brand new metallic blue Jaguar burst into a sheet of orange and yellow flame.

TO BE CONTINUED

© Wallace 2004. The writer maintains the right to be recognised as the author of this piece. This is a work of fiction and bears no resemblance to any places, either real or imaginary or any people or characters real or fictitious, living or dead.