Depth of Despair (16 page)

Everyone was stunned into silence, as much by Armistead’s appearance as the interruption.

‘This is an operational meeting,’ Pratt replied. ‘One to which you weren’t invited.’

‘Why?’ Armistead raged. ‘Why wasn’t I invited? I’ve a right to attend every meeting connected with this case. It’s my case. One of my officers,’ he spat the word out as he glared venomously at Fleming, ‘is in this meeting. Why wasn’t I consulted?’

‘Correction,’ Nash sounded almost bored. ‘DCI Fleming is no longer one of “your” officers. Nor is this “your” case. It’s an
investigation
being conducted by North Yorkshire Police in conjunction with the Russian authorities. Your involvement has always been in a consultative capacity. In theory, at least.’

Armistead fought to regain some measure of composure. ‘Where’s DS Thomas?’ He demanded.

He directed the question at Fleming. She looked startled by the unexpected change of subject.

‘Why, have you lost him?’ The sarcasm in Nash’s voice was undeniable. ‘Could it be you’ve sent him off on some enquiry without bothering to inform anyone?’

‘I don’t answer to you.’ Armistead’s voice rose again. ‘If I choose to send DS Thomas to check something I don’t need your
permission
.’

‘You’re wrong there,’ Tom Pratt retorted. ‘You send your officers on to my patch, you consult with me first. Unless you choose to ignore the Chief Constable’s orders.’

Nash continued, ‘I suppose this is another example of you getting information and refusing to share it?’ He paused
fractionally.
‘Just as you use any means at your disposal to get information from us. That’s what really bugs me.’

He was staring hard at Armistead, putting strong emphasis on the word ‘bugs’. Clara bit her lip, as she turned away her eyes met those of Fleming who was also trying not to laugh. Armistead picked up on the allusion. His bluster vanished and he seemed to shrink visibly. ‘You haven’t heard the end of this, any of you,’ he said, his voice reduced to barely above a mutter. It sounded like an empty threat.

‘Right, let’s get on,’ Pratt said almost before the door banged
shut. ‘When I’ve rung the Chief I’ll put a call in for the ARU, then I’ll speak to Catterick. I want everyone in body armour. Even then I won’t be happy until those bastards are in the cells.’

Clara remembered the sound of baying dogs. ‘Before you speak to the ARU, I think you should ask them to bring tranquillizer guns. Wardle has at least two Dobermans running loose.’

Besides Nash’s team and Zena, the room contained eight ARU members, a similar number of uniforms, plus half a dozen soldiers clustered discreetly at the back.

Nash introduced everyone and began the briefing.

‘It’s likely we’ll face high levels of security. These people are highly organized, with a huge investment to protect. Two at least are former soldiers used to battlefield conditions. They may resort to all sorts of tactics including trip wires and explosives. To
emphasize
the potential threat let me point out that the army personnel are from the Bomb Disposal Unit at Catterick.

‘Logistically, we start with a huge problem. The farm is in an extremely isolated position to the north-east of Bishop’s Cross. There’s only one approach road unless you’re prepared to walk six miles across farmland. I think we can count that out. Now I’m going to hand over to DS Mironova who’ll give an outline of the set-up at the Farm. She’s the only officer to have visited the
premises.
She spent twenty minutes in conversation with the owner several months ago. That’s all we have to base our assessment on.’

Clara walked across and flicked back the cover sheet on the flip chart. Underneath was an outline sketch of the farm. Using a steel ruler as a pointer, she explained their target. ‘This is the approach road. The only entrance is through this set of gates on the right, beyond the house itself. There’s a boundary wall running along each perimeter. It’s ten feet high and topped with razor wire. We can’t get over that wall, but neither can the criminals escape that way.

‘The entrance is protected by two sets of double five-barred steel gates, one at the roadside, the second at the entrance to the
farmyard
.’
She pointed to the image again. ‘Along the left the high wall continues to the top of the yard where it joins up with the end of one of the outbuildings. There are sheds all along the back of the yard. These are barns and possibly pig units. To the right of the house are open-fronted machinery sheds containing tractors and machinery. The whole yard is totally enclosed by buildings in the form of an oblong.’

Clara allowed a few minutes whilst everyone studied the diagram before opening the flip chart at the next sheet. ‘This is a plan of the ground floor of the farmhouse. Unfortunately, this is all we know. The only door we’re aware of opens from the farmyard and is controlled by an electronic entry system. This leads to a hallway stretching from front to back. There are two doors on each side of the hall plus a flight of stairs. This room here,’ she pointed to the diagram for emphasis, ‘is what we need to concentrate on. That’s Wardle’s office. It contains some sophisticated computer equipment. There’s a bank of filing cabinets on the far wall. The files in those cabinets plus the computer hard drive could yield vital evidence about the gang’s activities. We need them intact.’

Nash took over. ‘We must anticipate them being forewarned. I want silent approach and when we reach the farm I want everyone parked behind the CID car under cover of the outer wall. I think they’ll resist, if only to give themselves chance to escape. I want two men to remain at the rear in case they get past us. If so, I want stingers laid across the road to disable their vehicles.

‘We’ll split our force into two sections. I’ll lead the advance party and a second team will be commanded by DCI Fleming. My section will go in with officers from the ARU and bomb disposal. Once we’ve gained access and secured the farmyard, our next objective will be the house.

‘The second team will follow closely. When they reach the yard they’ll concentrate on the barns and outbuildings. Danger could come from any direction. We don’t know exactly what strength the opposition can muster.

‘We know three of the ringleaders, Wardle, Hill and a Serb named Vatovec.’ As he spoke he pointed to photographs from the men’s service records along with those Zena had supplied. ‘All three are ruthless killers. Don’t expect them to be alone. With the
money at their disposal they’re sure to have hired help. There’s one additional problem. That’s the lack of communication with our base. This place is so remote neither police radios nor mobile phones will be any use.’

‘Superintendent Nash,’ the interruption came from the leader of the Bomb Disposal Unit. ‘We thought that might be a problem so we’ve brought half a dozen satellite transceivers.’

‘Will they work out there?’

The officer smiled dourly. ‘If they don’t, the Ministry of Defence will have something to say to the manufacturers.’

‘Thanks,’ Nash turned to Pratt. ‘We should have the police
helicopter
airborne. When we can communicate with the pilot we can call it in when we’re ready. Can you arrange it? And can you have at least one ambulance with a paramedic team on standby at Bishop’s Cross plus the air ambulance as back-up.’

Pratt nodded as he moved centre stage. ‘Detective Superintendent Nash has already emphasized how dangerous these men are. Let me reinforce that by explaining why we need them behind bars. And why we need the evidence that will ensure they receive fitting sentences.

‘Not far from here there’s a young Moldavian girl in a serious condition, having had two rifle bullets removed. She’ll survive, but nine others that we know of didn’t. They’re the ones whose bodies were recovered from the tarns. In case you think the girl who survived is the lucky one, let me tell you about her ordeal.’

Pratt related Milla’s story and Nash saw the growing revulsion on the faces of the listeners. ‘In addition to providing children for the gratification of paedophiles, this gang is involved in a major drug importing operation. Think of the percentage of crime we deal with that’s drugs related. Think of people you know whose lives have been ruined by drugs. This raid gives us the chance to smash this racket.

‘If I haven’t convinced you yet, let me explain the most obscene aspect of their activities. Before these children were dumped in the tarn every saleable part of their bodies was removed and sold for transplant.’

Pratt had only just finished when Nash’s mobile rang. ‘Ramirez,’ the caller identified himself.

‘Yes, Professor, what can I do for you?’

‘I’ve been catching up on paperwork. Whilst I was in Paris a report came back from the laboratory. Do you remember the foetal bone I found from skeleton B?’

‘Only too well.’

‘They’ve extracted a DNA sample. That means they’ll soon be able to give us the genetic fingerprint of the foetus. If we have that we’ll be able to match it against DNA from the father.’

‘Thanks Professor, it might come in useful at some stage.’

Nash watched the men climb into the vans with admiration and anxiety. They were just ordinary coppers, but not one of them had shown the slightest hesitation about tackling the job. Such had been the power of Pratt’s remarks.

He wished them good luck before he climbed into the CID car. Clara was driving, Fleming and the leader of the ARU were in the back. The rest of the ARU members were in the vans along with the uniforms. The Bomb Disposal Unit would travel in their vehicles which carried their specialist equipment.

‘My original plan to go for stealth might be impractical.’ Nash stated. ‘We might have more success the opposite way. If we make a hell of a din it might mislead them into thinking there are more of us. That could work to our advantage.’

The journey was conducted in silence, all four officers busy with their own thoughts. As they drew nearer, the tension increased markedly. ‘We’re there, Mike,’ Clara said at last. She let the car coast to a stop. Nash got out and looked back. He could see the headlights of the rest of the raiding party. Their beams sweeping left and right as they negotiated the twisting country lane. He listened. Apart from the hum of engines the only sound was the distant bleating of sheep. The silence convinced Nash he’d been right. ‘They don’t know we’re here,’ he thought. What they needed was sound. The more noise they could make the better.

Nash spoke to Fleming and the leader of the ARU. ‘I want both teams lined up; you follow us closely Jackie. I want it done with as much noise as possible. Tell the men to talk amongst themselves. Even if they’ve nothing meaningful to say, to say it loudly! When you get to the farmyard I still want plenty of noise. Before we move,
get the chopper here and have it flood the farmyard with light. That should also make plenty of noise.’ He was about to continue when he saw the army Commander approaching at speed.

‘You mentioned security. So where are the cameras? Maybe they don’t need them. I think my men should take a look at those gates.’

‘Go for it. As soon as you’re clear I want as much noise as possible. We’ll come with you.’ He signalled to the ARU officer. ‘Bring two men.’

Nash hit trouble as soon as they inspected the first set of gates. The Bomb Disposal officer had one of his men check them. In the distance he heard the throbbing beat of the helicopter’s engine. The army commander signified there were no explosives fitted. One of the Armed Response men went to unlatch the gates. As his hand touched the metal there was a vivid blue flash that lit up the
darkness
. His scream was all Nash could have hoped for by way of noise. Another officer dragged him towards the safety of the wall.

‘Damn. Electrified, probably a buried wire. Sergeant, neutralize this. Everyone stand back.’

Seconds later there was an even brighter flash accompanied by a deafening explosion. When the dust cleared what remained of the double gates was hanging from the posts. ‘What the hell was that?’ Nash asked.

‘Hand grenade. You said you wanted noise.’

They stood at the second gates; one of the team carried what looked like an oversized mobile phone. ‘Heat sensor, it identifies explosive compounds. Ideal for use in temperatures as cold as this. Explosives always give off heat.’

He pointed to the left-hand side of the gates. ‘Device here, Sir.’

‘Now we’ve to find the trigger and deactivate the device.’

‘We don’t have time. They’ll know we’re here. Can we detonate it from a safe distance?’

‘We can,’ the officer conceded. ‘Get behind the wall. There could be a bit of shrapnel flying.’

There was a vivid orange and white flash, followed instantly by a thunderous explosion. ‘You can come out now,’ the bomb disposal officer called. ‘It was a trip wire. Sorry it took a moment but we were throwing sticks to get it to explode and our first four attempts failed.’

The sound of the helicopter engine grew louder. It appeared from the shadow of the hillside, navigation lights glowing red and green. The vans emptied their load of chattering, door slamming men, each determined to sound like half a dozen.

‘How’s the man who got the shock?’ The army commander asked.

‘Okay, I think. We’ve called for the ambulance.’

The helicopter pilot switched on his searchlight, the beam carving an arc that swept across the ground, illuminating the raiders before settling on the farmyard.

‘Come on. Move.’ Nash signalled everyone forward. ‘Jackie. Maintain contact with the pilot.’

What remained of the gates was a twisted mass of metal, tangled like a skein of wool after five minutes alone with a kitten. Where the gates had met there was a deep crater. ‘Nasty!’ The army officer observed. He was interrupted by the sound of barking.

‘Guard dogs!’ Nash warned.

Two members of the ARU ran forward, dart guns at the ready. The helicopter hovered overhead, its searchlight centred on the entrance. A sudden blur of movement across the beam was followed by the sound of gunfire. One of the attack dog’s bark turned into a yelp of pain and they saw the muscular liver and black shape topple over on its side.

The other dog continued towards them, not deflected by the loss of its comrade. Another shot. The second dog stopped abruptly, stiffened and began to sway slightly before it too collapsed.

The teams inched their way into the yard, circling the crater and giving the two Dobermans an even wider berth. Nash was about to order his team forward when there was a sudden burst of gunfire. Men dived for cover in all directions, all but one of the uniformed officers. They watched in shock as he walked forward a couple of paces, before collapsing. Shock turned to horror as they saw the top of his head had been blown away.

‘Air ambulance.’ Nash shouted to Fleming as several more rounds whistled overhead.

Clara spotted the flash and shouted. ‘First shed, window to the right of the door!’

Four ARU officers stepped forward. There was an instant
cacophony of sound as shot after shot echoed and mingled. Into the silence that followed the last round, the shed door opened and a man fell forward into the open, an Armalite rifle trailing uselessly behind. Blood was coming from at least four wounds about his chest and stomach.

‘Door enforcer.’ Nash yelled. He signalled Jackie towards the sheds. Led by a quartet of armed officers, she checked out the building. The only other occupants were a dozen cattle that had survived unscathed. Two uniformed men stepped forward carrying the heavy steel bolt. They stopped in front of the
farmhouse
. ‘Go for it!’

They took a firm grip of the ram and began to swing it backward and forward. They took a step forward in unison. As they did, there was another blinding flash accompanied by the devastating sound of a loud explosion. The sound echoed eerily as if in a steel tube. Nash swallowed hard to equalize the pressure in his ears and as the dust cleared he stared in horror at the scene of carnage.

The blast had blown a huge crater in the concrete yard. It had torn the two officers’ bodies into tattered and bloodstained
parodies
before tossing them aside like discarded rag dolls. What little remained of the door hung drunkenly from the one hinge. ‘Oh shit!’ Nash exclaimed. His hearing so distorted he barely recognized the sound of his own voice. ‘What the hell was that?’

‘Land mine,’ the commander of the bomb squad replied tersely. ‘Pressure pad activated. Those blokes had no chance. They were dead the moment they stepped on it. You were right when you said these bastards are evil.’