48 Hours - A City of London Thriller (34 page)

In the past week I had been in four different police stations
and I didn’t really like it. I wanted my own life back. I needed to
get back to dealing with clients who didn’t seek to destroy the
lives of others because they couldn’t accept that they had made a
mistake themselves.

Don Fisher and I were led into a bare and unfriendly waiting
room whilst the four policemen went to the operations room. Tom
Vastrick and three of his people were on their way.

The plan was simple, although not everyone had agreed on
strategy. The four policemen who had been living and breathing this
case for days wanted to storm the building from every angle with
overwhelming force, a strategy the Americans refer to as ”Shock and
Awe”. The commanders who were charged with designating personnel to
the task felt that the Risk Assessment demanded a softer approach,
a standoff where a negotiator would talk the men out of the
building, leaving their hostages safely behind. In the end the
final decision was to be left to the men on the ground.

Unless things changed, the plan was simple enough. Don Fisher
and I would be sitting in an unmarked van parked a hundred yards
away from the Tottenham Press car park, ready to comfort the
hostages on their release.

The telephone landline would be disconnected at the exchange,
and the white van already parked over the road would switch on its
electronic jammer. Then, for the next few minutes, every mobile
phone in that cell, about half a mile square, would be silenced
with the notorious message “No Network Coverage” being displayed on
their screens.

Armed police with protective vests would then form an outer
ring around the building, and two armed police with full body
armour and helmets would enter via each fire door. Another six
similarly clad officers would go in through the roller shutter
door.

The roller shutter door had presented a problem to the police
during the planning stage, as they knew it was designed to be
raised by inserting a key into a weather protected housing and
holding the key whilst the shutter crept up an inch at a time. The
police didn’t have the key, and nor did they have the time to wait
for the door to open so slowly.

Vastrick, who provided security to many such buildings,
referred the police to an electrical contractor whom they knew, who
could bypass the key, but he would need at least five minutes to do
so. The electrician was being briefed by the police upstairs. The
roller shutter door was also secured at the bottom with a padlock
that fixed the door to the concrete base, but that could be removed
in seconds with bolt cutters.

Don Fisher wasn’t a man who could sit still for long and he
was anxious to get on with the raid, even though nothing could be
done until we heard from the Assistant Commissioner that Operation
Tango was well under way. That would probably be closer to two
o’clock than one o’clock.

“
You know, Josh, yesterday I wanted to hang that Hickstead
creep from the nearest lamppost. Now I don’t give a damn what
happens to him. I just want my daughter back safe. Her mother will
blame me if anything happens to her and I’ll probably not
disagree.”

“
Don’t worry, Don,” I said, feeling none of the confidence I
was expressing. “We’ll get the girls back safely. Dee will care for
Lavender like a mother hen. I certainly wouldn’t want to be the man
that tried to hurt Lavender while Dee was around. The woman fights
like a demon. She’s also a trained protection officer. She knows
what to do in this kind of situation.”

The door burst open. DS Scott came in with a hand held
radio.

“
You need to hear this! Okay, Charlie two, say
again.”

The radio produced a second of static and then a strong male
voice came through.

“
A female in a leather catsuit came flying out of the fire
exit a minute or two ago, and ran barefoot to the road. She stopped
a male on the street and he decked her. Two other males ran off
searching the area, while the suspect on the street and one of the
kidnappers dragged the female back inside.”

“
Who were they looking for?” Don Fisher yelled, ignoring radio
protocol. The man didn’t hear the question and so Scott repeated
it.

“
That’s the odd thing. We’ve been watching the place for hours
and the female we saw was the first and only person to leave the
building. But if the male with the carrier bag full of supplies is
one of them, there are now six hostiles counted. Two searching, two
dragging the female and two who came to the door to see what was
going on.”

“
Your woman is definitely a fighter, I’ll give her that. And
in these circumstances that has to be an advantage,” Don Fisher
said, sounding a little less afraid now.

I hoped that he was right, but I was worried. Dee was
obviously trying her best to find a way out of her current
predicament, but her plan had failed. The captors now had two
hours, during which they might well make her pay for the escape
attempt.

Chapter
72

Commercial Road, Tottenham, North London. Sunday
Noon.

“
Johnny, what the hell is going on here? I thought you had
these women chained up?”

“
Sorry, Sonny, but the ‘cloggies’ have been looking after the
women. They wouldn’t let us near them once they were
upstairs.”

Sonny Holloway and Johnny closed the fire door and joined the
others, who were all gathered around the chair to which a hooded
Dee was tied. Sonny took Rik to one side and kept his voice
low.

“
I come around to bring you some food and what do I find? A
hostage running to me for help, that’s what. I could have been
anybody. How did they even get out of the room, let alone the
building? Those chains are supposed to be solid.”

“
I don’t understand it. They got the handcuffs open, but I’m
the only one with a key. But even if they got out of the room, they
still had to get down the stairs and past the door, and we didn’t
see or hear them.”

Rik knew that he was to blame. It showed on his face. The
older woman had beaten up two of his best men as if they were rank
amateurs, and she had also escaped from a seemingly secure
environment. Rik’s career prospects were looking slim.

“
OK, we are where we are. Where’s the other girl?”

“
We don’t know,” Rik admitted.

“
Go and bloody well find out, then!” Sonny growled through
gritted teeth.

Rik turned to Dee and addressed her in a moderated tone.
“Diane, we need to know where Lavender has gone. Please tell us,
because we don’t want to cause you any more pain.”

“
I don’t know,” Dee replied. “I told her to run as fast as she
could to get help. I wasn’t going to get far in bare feet, was
I?”

“
I’m going to give you one more chance. Where is she? We’ve
searched the factory, and she’s not here, and we’ve searched the
area outside and she’s not there either. Last chance.” Rik
waited.

“
Look,” said Dee, “I realise that you aren’t English, and so
I’ll speak slowly. I.... don’t ....know!”

Gregor had heard more than enough from this woman, who clearly
derived pleasure from humiliating them. He stepped forward and shot
her.

***

Blood spattered everywhere and Sonny tried to jump out of the
way, but he was too late. The woman’s blood was on his
coat.

“
What the hell do you think you’re doing, you lunatic?” Sonny
screamed. “This is my place. If the police forensic people get
around to looking in here I’ll go down for years. Put the guns
away.”

“
We haven’t got our answer yet,” Rick said, nodding to
Gregor.

Dee had been shot in the thigh. She had no way of knowing
whether her femoral artery had been damaged, but she knew that if
it had she would have only minutes to live. What she did know was
that she had never felt pain like it. She was in shock; she was
fighting unconsciousness. She couldn’t give Lavender up. She had to
convince them.

Gregor leaned over and pushed the hot barrel of his gun into
the wound. Dee screamed and felt herself sliding away. Just before
she drifted into the blackness, she heard Lavender’s anguished
voice.

“
Stop it! Please, no more! Leave her alone!” She started
sobbing, but Dee heard nothing more.

“
Go and get her down, Johnny. You too, Dave,” Sonny ordered.
“And you three can stop this one bleeding all over my
floor.”

***

When they had escaped from the chains, Dee had checked the
factory floor below and, finding that they were not being observed,
she helped Lavender climb onto the flat roof of the two storey
office building. Dee handed up the remaining water and said, “No
matter what happens, lie flat and still in the middle of the roof
and don’t make any noise at all. Someone will come and get
you.”

“
Can’t I come with you?” Lavender had pleaded, afraid to be
left on her own.

“
No, darling,” Dee replied, her voice soft and calming. “We
won’t make it far and they have guns. We have to make it look as if
you got away. OK?”

Lavender remembered that conversation, and the promise she’d
made, but she couldn’t let Dee die just so that she could stay
hidden. Dee was the closest thing she’d had to a real friend since
school.

Dee now lay on the table on the sleeping bag. She seemed to be
drifting in and out of consciousness. Sonny had ordered Johnny and
Dave to look after the hostages. He didn’t want to leave them with
the Dutch thugs. Johnny had cut off the leg of the cat suit to
expose the wound. It wasn’t the neat round hole that might have
been expected. The wound was ragged. It was black on the edges, and
he could see the white fat layer under the skin. It was
surprisingly white. He stepped back when he suddenly realised he
could see the muscles beneath.

Dave took over. He lifted the leg and placed his hand
underneath; he could feel the bullet under the skin.

“
It’s not a through and through, mate,” he said to Johnny.
“I’m not an expert, but I reckon if it doesn’t come out, by
tomorrow night she’ll be in real trouble.”

“
What a mess. Can we get it out, do you think?”

“
No choice, Johnny. Go and get my toolbox, it’s in the next
room.

Lavender listed to the conversation with increasing
horror.

“
You can’t cut her open! You’re not a doctor. You don’t know
what you’re doing!” she sobbed.

“
Look, Miss, that isn’t strictly true,” Dave answered. “I was
in the army, in Afghanistan, and we often had to do emergency
medical on our mates or they would never have made it to the field
hospital. I promise I’ll do my best, if you help.”

Lavender shook her head, shrinking back. “I can’t watch you
cut her, I just can’t.”

“
I know, it’s tough. I’m going to roll her into the recovery
position which will protect her if she vomits. It’ll also give me
access to the bullet. I want you to roll up some of that leather
until it’s about an inch thick and put it between her teeth on top
of her tongue. That’ll stop her biting her tongue while I’m
working.”

Johnny opened Dave’s bomb making tool kit and wasn’t surprised
to see the neatest and most organised tool box in
London.

Dave took a Stanley knife, or box cutter, out of the box and
took a brand new blade out of its waxed paper. He then picked up a
small bottle containing clear liquid.

“
This is pure alcohol. I use it to clear residue from the ends
of wires before I terminate them. It gives a better
connection.”

Dave cleaned the new blade with the alcohol and slipped it
into the knife. He swabbed the area around the bullet, which was
clearly visible below the surface.

“
Right, you both need to hold her down. The squaddies in
Afghanistan were doped up with Morphine and they still
kicked.”

Lavender took Dee’s head and shoulders, and Johnny took her
legs. When he was happy she was restrained, Dave made the one inch
cut. The new blade parted the skin with alarming ease. Dee moaned
but didn’t struggle.

Dave laid down the knife and picked a pair of alloy pliers
with a pointed nose. He had to use non-magnetic pliers when making
or disarming bombs, as lots of wires and bomb components would
become magnetised during assembly and the last thing you wanted to
do was to attract the wrong wire to your pliers.

After dousing the pliers with alcohol and cleaning them
thoroughly, he told his helpers to brace themselves. Dave put the
closed pliers into the middle of the cut and opened the jaws. The
bloody bullet stared out at him. Dee started yelling and trying to
move her leg but Johnny held on tight. Realising he didn’t have
much time, Dave prayed that his first effort would succeed and
fixed the jaws of the pliers around the bullet, then retracted them
slowly.

He dropped the bullet on the table and examined it closely. It
appeared to be complete. The bleeding was minimal and so, wrapping
the jaws of the pliers in a hygienic wipe, he cleaned the wound
inside and out. Dee was back to moaning.