Deadly Crossing (Tom Dugan 2) (15 page)

Chapter Eighteen

Peckham Road and Talfourd Road
London, UK

“I think you can get a little closer,
Dyed
,” Borgdanov said from the front passenger seat.

Behind the wheel, Dugan pointed to the GPS display mounted on the console. “We’re already well inside the agreed one-mile radius. And besides, this is as good a spot as any. We’re inconspicuous here, and the last thing we want is to be spotted and screw up the op.”

They were parked on Talfourd Road, facing north toward the intersection of Peckham Road, just one car of many parked along the curb.

“Of course we are inconspicuous,” Borgdanov grumbled. “We are so far away Arsov would need spy satellite to find us. It will not hurt to get a little closer. If nothing happens, Anna will never know, and if there is problem and we help, we will be forgiven,
da
?”

“
Da
,” Ilya agreed from the seat behind Dugan.

Dugan twisted in his seat to look at Ilya and Nigel sitting beside him. Nigel remained silent, but his expression spoke volumes. It was clear he agreed with the two Russians.

“That’s a big
nyet
,” Dugan said. “Besides, exactly where else would you like me to go? In the unlikely event this operation fails, the bad guys could run in any direction, and we can’t be everywhere. I think we can count on them having other safe houses, and they’ll likely stay in the city center where they don’t stand out as much, and Peckham Road is the fastest way back to the city. If that happens, we’ll hear it on the scanner and be in a position to maybe cut them off.”

“Okay, okay,” Borgdanov said. “So we stay on this road, but maybe just a bit closer?”

“Absolutely not. Anna’s got her neck stuck out on this as it is, and we promised her that McKinnon wouldn’t even know we were nearby, so here we stay unless something goes amiss.”

Borgdanov glared at him a long moment just as McKinnon’s voice erupted from the scanner.

“Unit Two, this is Unit One. Do you copy? Over.”

“Unit One, this is Unit Two. We copy,” came the reply.

“Two, what is your status? Over,” McKinnon asked.

“We are in position near the loading dock. All the large roller doors are closed. There is one man-door, a heavy metal industrial job. Suggest we use breaching charges on the masonry surround. Over.”

“Affirmative, Two,” McKinnon said. “Are there security cameras or vehicles? Over.”

“Negative on cameras. There are two cars in the yard near the far end of the loading dock. We have eyes on the inside of the warehouse. Ramsey snaked fiber optics under one of the roller doors. There is movement in an area on the south wall. We can see the head and shoulders of two men over the back of a sofa. Some sort of makeshift living area. Third target is not visible, but there is what looks like a door to an office area on your side.” He paused. “And there are cages and containers on the north end of the warehouse. The cages are full of… people.”

The scanner fell silent, and Dugan looked at the Russians, his jaw clenched.

“Bastards,” Nigel muttered, but the Russians sat in stoic silence, their expressions saying everything that needed saying.

“I copy, Two,” McKinnon said. “Are the hostages in the line of fire? Over?”

“Negative, One. If you take the target in the office area and we enter simultaneously from both doors, we’ll catch the other two in a cross fire. Over.”

“Okay, Two. Disable the vehicles and set the breaching charges on the door. How long before you’re ready? Over.”

“Estimate five minutes. Should I keep Ramsey on the fiber optics?”

There was another pause, as if McKinnon was considering the question, then he responded. “Negative, Two. We’re shorthanded as it is. I need all three of you to crash the door, and I want Ramsey to insert himself between the hostages and the targets. Advise when you have the charges set and are ready to breach. Over.”

“Affirmative. Unit Two out.”

Borgdanov nodded. “Okay,
Dyed
, we stay. I think we soon find out if McKinnon captures the fox,
da
?”

Holding Warehouse
516 Copeland Road
Southwark, London, UK

Arsov answered his phone.

“It’s me,” a voice said. “You’re about to be raided.”

“What? When? By who?”

“McKinnon and that MI5 bitch,” Peterson said. “NOW!”

“MI5? What the hell are you talking about? What’s MI5 got to do with any of this?”

“That redhead bitch, Anna Walsh. I was wondering how she seemed so thick with McKinnon, and I sniffed around a bit and found out she’s with British Intelligence,” Peterson said.

“And you’re just telling me now?”

“I-I just found out earlier today, and the big raid was already a bust, so I didn’t think it was urgent. But when I saw her sniffing around tonight, I put it together and figured—”

“Or maybe you figured I might pay a little more for that information and were saving it for later, eh? Let me assure you, you’ll be paid, but maybe not as you intended.”

“No… really…I had no clue. I mean, I found out about the woman, but I just found out about the next raid by accident. That bastard McKinnon didn’t even log the warrant until a half hour ago. I called you as soon as I found out. I swear.”

Arsov’s mind raced. There would be time enough to deal with Peterson later — assuming there was a later. Now he needed information.

“How many and when?” he demanded.

“Seven, including McKinnon and the bitch, at least as far as I could tell. But they’re not from our unit. At least five are CO19 lads, full tactical gear, night-vision kit, the works. And if they’re not outside your location now, they soon will be.”

“All right. We’ll talk later.” Arsov hung up.

He took a deep breath and struggled to calm himself. He thought of the captives and the drugs in the warehouse — so much for staying under the radar. No lawyer could get him out of this, no matter how good he was. And MI5? What the hell could that mean? He pulled his laptop over and clicked on the feed from the security cameras concealed around the perimeter of the building. Other warehouses made sure the cameras were visible to discourage robberies, but the
Bratstvo
’s security needs were a bit different. They didn’t need to discourage thieves; everyone in the underworld knew you didn’t touch certain warehouses and you didn’t talk about them — ever. He pulled up the feeds from the front of the building first and saw nothing within the range of the cameras, but the loading dock was a different story. Two black-clad figures worked around the back door, and when he zoomed in, he saw they were setting breaching charges. He zoomed out and panned the camera to see another man puncturing the tires on Yuri’s Mercedes. He assumed his own car would be next.

Not much time, but he did have the element of surprise. He moved to a metal storage cabinet and pulled a canvas duffel bag from a lower shelf and quickly stuffed it with items from the cabinet. He slung the bag over his shoulder and raced out into the warehouse.

His underlings were in the makeshift living quarters along the south wall of the warehouse. There were two old sofas on either side of a card table where they ate their meals. A large refrigerator, a microwave on a stand, and a big-screen TV completed the furnishings. The two men spent their time eating, playing video games, or enjoying the pleasures of the whores they released from the cages when they felt the need. Yuri sat on a sofa with his pants around his ankles as he forced a naked teenage girl’s face into his crotch. Anatoli was sitting at the other end of the sofa, laughing and making critical comments on the girl’s performance.

Arsov heaved the duffel bag on to the card table and unzipped it as he gave orders with quiet urgency. “Pull your fucking pants up, and put her back in her cage,” he said to Yuri. “We’re about to be raided.”

“What?” Anatoli asked as Yuri pushed the girl away roughly and stood to fumble with his pants. Arsov glared at him again, and he quickly zipped his pants and dragged the girl upright by her hair to push her in the direction of the cages across the cavernous warehouse.

“They’ll be coming in the front and back doors any minute,” Arsov said to Anatoli, as he laid out weapons in a line on the table, three compact Kedr submachine guns with extra box magazines, with a flashlight next to each. He flinched slightly as a cage door slammed, and looked up to see Yuri returning. He motioned him to hurry, and when Yuri got close, Arsov continued his instructions in a rush.

“They’ll probably be three or four through each door, and we’ll be waiting. Yuri, I want you to cover the door from the office area. Anatoli, take the back door, but be careful. They’ll blow the door with explosives, so stay behind cover until they detonate. They’ll be wearing vests, so take their legs out from under them first. I’ll kill the interior lights, so each of you take a flashlight. You may need—”

Yuri looked confused. “But wha—”

“Shut the fuck up! I don’t have time to explain.”

Both men bobbed their heads and began to arm themselves, and Arsov continued as he donned the single pair of night-vision goggles and flipped them up out of his line of vision. “They’ll probably use flash bangs from both doors, so be ready to shut your eyes and cover your ears.”

“But how did they find us?” Anatoli asked, risking Arsov’s wrath.

“That bastard Nazarov must have talked. But there aren’t many of them, so we should be able to take them down. Now get in position.”

Yuri nodded and rushed to cover the front entrance, but Anatoli hesitated.

“What are you going to do?”

“I’ll stay mobile and arrange a little surprise and then support either you or Yuri, depending on circumstances. We have to kill all these bastards quickly and then take one of the cars and get the hell out. We’re done in the UK for now, but if we can make it to a safe house, we can hole up a while and then get out of the country. Now quit asking questions and get to your god damned station.”

Anatoli nodded and rushed to cover the rear door.

Copeland Road
Near Holding Warehouse
Southwark, London, UK

“Unit One, do you copy? Over,” the radio squawked.

McKinnon looked at Anna and spoke into his shoulder-mounted mike. “Two, this is One. I copy. Are you ready? Over.”

“Affirmative, One. Over,” came the reply.

“Good, Two. Prepare to breach on my order. Over,” McKinnon said.

“This is Two standing by for your order. Be advised the bit of light leaking under the big roller doors just went out. It looks like they may be bedding down for the night. Over.”

McKinnon frowned. “Do you think they’ve moved? Over.”

“Possibly,” Two replied, “but they’ll either be on the sofas or somewhere in the office area. We didn’t see anywhere else to sleep. Either way, the plan should work. Over.”

“Affirmative. Stand by.”

McKinnon turned and nodded at Anna as he opened the car door. “Well, wish us luck, Agent Walsh.”

“I do indeed.” Anna opened her own door.

“Just a minute. Where do you think you’re going?”

“With you, obviously. You did invite me to ride along.”

“Correct,” McKinnon said. “As in ‘ride,’ which implies you’re to stay in the car. Need I remind you that this isn’t exactly a matter for MI5 and that I invited you to OBSERVE as a courtesy.”

“Not likely,” Anna said sweetly. “And besides, there are only six of you. That’s not exactly an overwhelming force now, is it?”

“Six of us and complete surprise. This should be a fast and easy take down.”

“In which case there’s no harm in me OBSERVING from a closer vantage point than the car, is there? The word does mean ‘to see,’ you know, and I won’t be able to see bloody fuck all from the car, now will I?”

McKinnon shook his head. “All right, damn it! But stay well behind us. If this doesn’t go as planned, I’ll have a hard enough time explaining your presence, and all the more so if you get shot in the bargain.”

Anna smiled. “Your solicitude is touching, Inspector.”

McKinnon muttered something under his breath and got out of the car, striding toward his two constables on the sidewalk without looking back. Both constables had their assault rifles slung, and one was carrying a crowbar and the other a short but obviously heavy breaching ram. McKinnon nodded as he reached them, and they all started for the front door of the warehouse in a crouching run, with Anna close behind.

The front of the warehouse appeared to be office space, with a vacant reception area opening on to the street. Large floor-to-ceiling windows dominated the front of the reception area, and the entrance was a glass door set in a heavy aluminum frame. McKinnon nodded to the constable with the crowbar, and the man inserted the flat end of the bar into the crack between the door and the frame just above the lock and leaned into the bar. The metal frame of the door resisted and then began to distort, as the heavy glass gave a soft pop and cracks spider-webbed across the door. The constable pushed harder, and the door came open.

McKinnon rushed inside, his two constables and Anna on his heels, as he whispered into his shoulder mike.

“Two, this is One. We’re in the reception area. Blow your door and prepare to deploy flash bangs.”

The words had hardly left his mouth when they heard a rumbling roar from the back of the building, followed immediately by the screams of terrified women, muffled slightly by the thin interior walls of the office area.

“Go! Go! Go!” McKinnon said, and the man with the ram ran forward and slammed the heavy weight against the door leading to the interior office area. The flimsy door frame shattered in an explosion of splinters as the door flew open and slammed against the wall. McKinnon and the two constables entered the short dark hallway, flipping down their night-vision glasses as they entered. Anna, with no NV equipment, trailed cautiously, her Glock in a two-handed grip, as the three policemen leapfrogged each other down the hallway, clearing the two empty offices. They stopped at another flimsy wooden door. The screams from the warehouse interior were deafening now.