Just Another Day (19 page)

Once or twice, to ease the way, ‘Skip’ Lee would tell the driver to give a quick flash of the blues fitted behind the radiator grill. He knew he was taking a bit of a gamble, but he reasoned that as the lights were fitted low down, there was a good chance that they wouldn’t be seen by anybody other than the one or two vehicles directly in front.
He had to make up time and get closer to their new target vehicle. The stakes had just been upped once more and now that there was another hostage, and a civilian one at that, he knew that the time was fast approaching when the situation would have to be resolved one way or another.

Ged Duggan, sat in the back, was all too aware that it might shortly be the case where he was given the instruction to shoot Johnson even though he had the shotgun tied to Dave’s neck. Now, the police could not take the chance that the civilian hostage would be killed alongside the two officers.
Quite simply, the police officers, however horrific the thought, would be considered as expendable in order that the life of the civilian could be saved. If Ged got the opportunity in a like situation as before where the target vehicle was disabled and he had a shot. He would have to take it. He’d be ordered to take it. The Commanders would not allow the transit van or its passengers to move away again. He was trying not to think of what lay ahead. He closed his eyes and tried to doze. He needed to be completely alert if that order came. But, try as he might, he could not get the image out of his mind.

It had to be a head shot. No other would guarantee instant death. That was the simple requirement. Sudden and instant death. No ifs, no buts. If he missed, and hit him in the body, he would not die instantly and would still be able to fire the shotgun. In his mind, he saw Johnson’s head explode. He also saw Dave’s head being torn from his shoulders almost at the same time as the two shotgun shells ripped through his neck as Johnson pulled the trigger in his death throes.

He would take the shot. No question. He was a professional and like all his colleagues, he knew that however sickening the situation would be, an innocent civilian life must take precedence over that of a police officer. He prayed that if and when the time came, maybe, just maybe the maniac he was pursuing might just have taken his finger off the trigger for a moment. Just a second would do. That’s all he’d need, one second.
He shuddered a little in the back seat. He was warm and cosy with the heating on, even so, a little shiver ran down his spine.

They were making slow but steady progress and they were all quiet. Even swifty the joker in the pack was unusually silent. Each was aware that it wouldn’t be long now. Each was deep in his own contemplation as they received regular updates from the helicopter as to their position in relation to the van up ahead.
Romeo Victor Two had made excellent progress in catching up with their colleagues. They had been further back and were able to use their sirens and lights to close the gap. They confirmed their position of two hundred yards behind Romeo Victor One.

‘
Romeo Victor One to all patrols, be advised we have eyeball on the transit van. Nearside lane eight vehicles ahead behind the tanker lorry. Romeo Victor One to Hotel Charlie One, please confirm that this is in fact the target vehicle.’

‘
Hotel Charlie One to Romeo Victor 1, that’s a Roger, target vehicle is white transit van, confirm registration number as Mike Delta Five Three Uniform Foxtrot Golf.’

As the various messages were being relayed, both the helicopter and pursuit vehicles saw the transit indicating to leave the Motorway. The Services at Stafford were rapidly approaching and the van slowed and moved into the access road for the services. The big yellow ‘M’ of the McDonald
s sign flashed by. The two response vehicles were no more than a hundred yards or so behind and followed the target vehicle as it drove past the parking area for ordinary cars and on towards the commercial vehicle area.

The van drove around for a minute or two and the watching officers who had pulled in amongst the normal cars, watched as it slowly circled as though looking for something or someone. After a few minutes, it pulled up at the far end of the lorry parking area well out of the way of the normal wagons, stopped and turned off its headlights.
There was some discussion within the two vehicles and the helicopter crew as to the suspicious nature of the van driving round previously. They concluded that the occupants were watching to see if they had been followed, once satisfied that they had not, the van had then settled on its out of the way location as some means of hiding from any possible pursuers. As well as the ARV’s watching the scene unfold at ground level, the Command team back at base had been viewing the pictures from the force helicopter and deciding their next action.

‘Skip’ Lee of Romeo Victor One
spoke for all of them when he said,

‘
RV1 to control, this looks like the best chance we’re going to get to contain this situation. Request authority to implement hard stop and prevent van from moving off again.’

They knew they had to make an instant decision and both the control room Commanders looked at each other. Paul Wilson spoke first.

‘Sergeant Lee is right Andrew. There’s not likely to be a better opportunity. I know it’s very risky for Dave Watkins and John Walsh, but we’ve got to act now. We’ve got to hope to God that we can save someone. There will be enough criticism that Johnson has now got a civilian hostage with him, if we allow that van to move off again, there’s no telling when we will be able to stop him again. The car park is a good option Andrew. Let’s bring this to an end now.’

Chief Superintendent McKay was not one to shy away from making difficult decisions and if it all went pear shaped, he knew the vultures who sit on high would be circling and there would be plenty of ‘Should haves’ in the inevitable enquiry that would follow. ‘You should have done this Superintendent or you should have considered that’. Well, that was for the future, now, he had to make that call. He prayed that he would get it right. His instincts told him his colleague was right.
He nodded back to Paul Wilson almost at the same time as he said into the radio,

‘
Chief Superintendent McKay to Armed Response Units, that’s a Go. Repeat Go at your command. You have the authority to use lethal and deadly force if necessary. Good luck gentlemen.’

The ski
ppers and crews of the two Response vehicles had been anticipating their green light and had very quickly devised their attack plan. The transit van was approximately one hundred yards away from the two assault vehicles. The side of the van was facing their cars and it was decided that they would both drive at the van at speed and with about 30 yards or so to go, they would peel off in a ‘Y’ formation so that one ARV was stopped about ten yards from the front of the van whilst the other  would take up a similar position at the back of the van.

The plan would ensure that the occupants of the two Response units could be quickly out of their respective vehicles, take cover behind their own cars and, most importantly of all, make sure that if and when they had to shoot, they were not in each others line of fire. The ARV at the front would take out the two front tyres; likewise, the other would do the same at the back of the van.
Speed, aggression and surprise was the essence of a successful operation and they both realised that there would be no turning back or second chances once the decision had been made.

Lee Evans was the senior officer on the ground and it would be his decision as to when to go.
The eight officers were in direct communication with each other and all dialogue would be recorded as a matter of course for the de-brief after the incident was closed. If it all went well, there would be plenty of ‘well dones’ all round. If it didn’t, well. They weren’t going to contemplate that. They’d practised this type of scenario many times before. The next few minutes would determine if it was a job well done or not.

‘
Ready Jos?’

‘
As ready as we’ll ever be Skip.’

The relative quietness of the control rooms suddenly erupted
as the adrenaline of the two crews kicked in.

Go Go Go,
’ shouted the ground commander as the two powerful Range Rovers rapidly gained speed and hurtled across the gap with headlights blazing. The driver of the Motor Home just about to drive across the front of Romeo Victor One stood on the brakes as he looked open mouthed at the black flash that almost took his front bumper off. The two vehicles ate up the gap. Seventy, fifty, thirty yards to go, one swerved left, the other right. Screeched to a halt. Four officers near to the back of the transit, four at the front. Four flat tyres on the van.

The whole incident had taken about forty five seconds from start to finish.
As the last of the tyres deflated, the helicopter lit up the van from above and the sky shout operated once more.

‘
You in the van, you are surrounded by heavily armed police officers. Throw out your weapons and release your hostages.’

Suddenly, a head came into view from the drivers’ position in the van. The person had been laying across the front seat and could not be seen initially.
The transit van was lit up like Blackpool Illuminations from the full beam headlights of the ARV’s and the searchlight from above. There was a few moments silence.

The two messages came into the control room almost simultaneously.

‘Hotel Charlie One to control, The infra red on the camera is picking up only one heat source from inside the vehicle. Repeat, the only heat source in the van is from the driver’s position. Not picking up any images from the back of the vehicle.’

‘
Excuse me Chief Superintendent McKay,’ said the control room operator manning the telephones. ‘I’ve got the Force Incident Manager for Cheshire Constabulary on the line sir, says that one of their Traffic patrols has just picked up a distressed female on the North bound hard shoulder of the M6 near to Keele Services. She had her hands tied behind her back with a cable tie and tape across her mouth. She’s in quite a hysterical state. The only thing she has been able to tell them so far is that she was bundled out of her car by a man and there was somebody else who was holding a shotgun to the head of another man. There were three men altogether, one of them dressed in green overalls and trainers.’

Where a few moments before there had been nervous anticipation that the crisis was about to be brought to an end; now, the control room was silent. All eyes were on Chief Superintendent McKay as the implications of the two messages began to sink in.
He slowly sat in his chair and brought his hands up to his chin in a prayer like manner. It was only seconds, but it seemed a lot longer before he spoke to his second in command.

‘
Paul, three things. One, get the ARV’s to confirm as quickly as possible whether there is any one else in that transit van other than the driver. Two, get as much information from Cheshire as to where and when this took place and Three, get someone to the petrol station at Keele. View their CCTV and find out what the fuck went wrong. As of this minute, we’ve got our armed officers fifty miles away and we haven’t got a fucking clue as to where our hostages and that bastard of a madman are.’

He knew. The Inquisition was about to commence.
He walked over to the window and stared out. His career might well be finished. That in itself didn’t bother him. His thoughts now were with his colleagues. He didn’t know the young officer. He did however know John Walsh. He knew him very well indeed. 

‘
I’m sorry john,’ he said quietly to himself. ‘You’re on your own old friend. I’m sorry I’ve let you down.’ He took a deep breath and turned to his colleague.

‘
We might have fucked this one up Paul, but at least it appears that he’s still only got our two officers. I hope to fuck there was no on else in that car when he let the woman go.’

At the very moment that Chief Superintendent McKay was feeling the almost physical pain of serious failure, so Johnson was feeling very smug and happy.

‘What a clever bastard I am’ he said to John as he sat back in the plush seats of the silver coloured BMW X5. ‘I do like these tinted windows Mr Walsh. Gives me a certain feeling of comfort and security. Nice to know that I can look out without any nosey bastard looking in. No police radio’s, no shitty little contraptions to eavesdrop on our polite conversation. Yes I must say; I do like our nice new motor.

Now, home James. Nice and steady. I’ll tell you a little later where we’re going next.

Chief Superintendent McKay was as stunned as everyone else in the control room.
He was thankful for the hot sweet tea put in front of him by one of the civilian support staff. He looked up and smiled at her. She smiled nervously back and turned away.

‘
Tell me Paul, what the fuck went on back there. I don’t understand how I got it so badly wrong. Why did the driver of the van go haring off at such a speed from the petrol station, why was he driving round the car park at Stafford looking so guilty? It just doesn’t make sense. What on earth was the guy playing at?’

‘
Lee Evans has just reported back Boss; they couldn’t get much sense out of the driver at first. Poor bloke was scared shitless. When he got nearly blinded by the lights and heard the chopper shouting to throw out his guns, he thought he was about to be shot. He couldn’t speak properly. Turns out, our man is just a normal delivery driver. He drove away from the petrol station like a bat out of hell because he was supposed to be meeting his opposite number at Stafford services to swap over some delivery boxes and paperwork. The company has a couple of vans and the Service’s is the central meeting point. One van, the one driven by our guy, does the North part of the run while the other one does all the stuff from Stafford down South of the country.

He thought he was running late and so shot off quick from Keele, likewise, he thought he had missed him when he got to Stafford, hence his suspicious run around the car park. In fact, his oppo phoned him a few minutes after he got to the meeting point, told him he was running late and that’s why he settled over in the corner of the lorry park out of the way to get a bit of shut eye. He told his mate on the phone where he would be and so settle
d down for a bit of a bit of shut eye until Skip Lee and boys introduced themselves to him.’

‘
Well, Johnson stitched us up good style Paul. God help our lads now.’ He took a gulp of the hot tea and looked into the distance. ‘It sounded like Dave Watkins was in a bit of a mess. He won’t be much use to John even if they do get an opportunity to do something themselves. Oh sweet Jesus Paul, why couldn’t I have seen something coming?’

‘
Don’t go beating yourself up about this cock up Andrew. Remember, none of
us
saw it coming either. We all got taken in by the screaming and shouting from Johnson as they were getting out of the police car. The clever bastard used our own technology to fuck us over. No one sussed him. We all just thought he was ranting and panicking a bit. As soon as he mentioned the transit, we all got sucked into his plan. There’s not a lot we can do at the moment other than ask the surrounding forces for assistance in trying to identify the whereabouts of the BMW. They’ve got their choppers up and are trying to locate it. I know it’s a bit of a needle in a haystack job but it’s the best we can do at the moment.

The guys have
punched the details of the motor into the ANPR system and we just have to sit back and hope we get a hit quickly. He might not be that far ahead of us.’

Paul Wilson was trying his best to put a brave face on things. He knew it was a fucking disaster, but, he reasoned that Johnson would at least have had to travel south on the M6 in the same direction as the transit van for about fifteen miles before he could come off at the first available junction and drive up north again.

The woman driver of the BMW had been found a few miles North of the services at Keele so there was a good chance that he was still on the motorway somewhere. He was thankful that Johnson had let the woman go, even if he didn’t understand why. A female hostage would be quite an asset in many ways if it came to using her as a bargaining chip, not to mention the fact that he had given away his direction of travel. Maybe the fatigue and the situation was clouding his judgement as well as everyone else’s.

He prayed that the Automatic Number Plate Recognition cameras would pick them up somewhere.

Originally, the cameras had been conceived and used for terrorism purposes in locating and tracking suspicious vehicles, latterly, they had been used for many other purposes, not least of which was for more mundane police work. They weren’t sited solely on motorways any more. Lots of strategic points had been identified for their use. Ports and Airports were now equipped with the cameras as well as many trunk roads up and down the country. Still, all they could do now was sit and wait. Every minute seemed like five as the clock ticked slowly on.

He sipped slowly from his tea as he eyed his boss and thought to himself. If there is a God, for Christ’s sake give us a break. If ever we needed one, now is the time.

John was horrified. He silently screamed as the realisation hit him like a brick in the face.
They weren’t getting into the transit van at all. He had seen the driver of the van walking back across the forecourt of the petrol station with the newspaper under his arm and studying the receipt for his petrol.

The delivery man didn’t take much notice of the bloke in the green overalls and trainers staring at him, nor of the other two men huddled close together with their backs to him. He just nodded slightly and climbed into the drivers’ seat and drove away.
He thought it a little strange that they were stood near to the back of his van, but otherwise, not much else to concern him. The back doors had been padlocked and were still closed and he never gave it much of a second thought as he shot off quickly to meet his mate at Stafford.

‘
Don’t say a fuckin word’ hissed Johnson as he fingered the knife in his belt. He had seen his next victim.

‘
When I say so, turn round and move quickly in front of me. You will see a silver coloured BMW with its door open. Right, move it, go.’

John stumbled forward as he was pushed forcefully, the tip of the knife pricking into the small of his back. Dave was on autopilot and just went in whatever direction he was shoved. Johnson had loosened the noose by a turn and had taken his finger off the trigger. He knew he would get no resistance from his captive, but he didn’t want any unintended bloodshed either.

John saw her leaning into the car about five yards away. She was stretching across the drivers’ seat to the front passenger seat as though searching for something in a shopping bag or a handbag of some kind. He caught a side on glance of her f
ace and thought she was about thirty years of age, smartly dressed in a beige coloured pin stripe type jacket and matching knee length skirt. Short heeled beige coloured shoes completed her outfit and with her collar length well cut hair and top of the range motor, he rightly figured that she was a comfortably well off young woman.

She never heard a thing as the trio closed upon her quickly.
Johnson whispered in John’s ear.

‘
I’m going to give you this knife. Don’t fuck about or try anything stupid or the last thing you will see is his head rolling on the ground. Make sure you impress upon her that she is to do and say nothing. Push her across into the passenger seat and then you get into the drivers seat. If she starts screaming and shouting or makes any kind of a fuss, that’ll be down to you. Is that clear?’

‘
Crystal.’

John knew that his best course of action was to get up very close behind the woman and stop her from turning round. If she was in a position to move or manoeuvre in some way, she might well start screaming and there would be a bloodbath of that he was certain. For her own good, and that of himself and Dave, he had to act quickly, decisively and above all, aggressively.

She had her legs slightly apart and was reaching into a shopping bag on the passenger seat next to the steering wheel as John forcefully pushed his thigh between her legs and pressed hard against her buttocks. She was obviously startled and tried to move back. John stopped her with his left hand and brought the knife in front of her with his right hand. he was almost distraught himself as in those few seconds he realised that this was a classic rape position with his hand on the back of his ‘victims’ neck, pushing her forward into a bent position.

‘
Do exactly as I say and you won’t get hurt. Do you understand?’

When she saw the large blade of the kitchen knife just a few inches from her face, she let out a quiet anguished groan. Her knees sagged and she began to crumple. She didn’t faint, but there wasn’t much in it as she tried to hold herself up.
She was almost sat on John’s thigh and he suddenly felt the right knee of his overalls become wet and warm. He instantly realised that in her shock,
his
victim had urinated uncontrollably. He felt so disgusted with himself that for a split second, he wanted to take the knife and shove it in Johnson up to the hilt and twist it viciously.

Johnson saw the spreading stain on John’s leg and almost laughed.

‘
Get her in the fucking car before she shits all over you. We haven’t got time for this.’

John desperately wanted to, but couldn’t offer any kind of apologies or explanation. He pushed her hard with his left hand and she began to move onto the drivers’ seat. She hadn’t said a word. She couldn’t speak. Her mouth was opening and closing but no words would come. The suddenness of the attack, the violation of her body with the forceful thigh between her legs had struck her dumb.
She clambered forward on her knees and john could clearly see the large wet patch. The fact that the skirt was light coloured had made the wetness stand out even more and the tell tale streaks of urine as it traced a pattern down her tan coloured tights just served to revile John even more knowing that he was responsible for her fear and humiliation. She continued to climb forward on her knees to the front passenger seat. She still never uttered a word.

Johnson had opened the rear drivers’ side passenger door and pushed his captive ahead of him. All four were now in the vehicle and the whole operation had taken less than a minute.

‘
Quiet; sit still; Nobody say a fucking word.’

He looked around at the scene alongside the petrol pumps. There was no commotion of any kind, no one looking or pointing in their direction. Everybody was just going about their normal business of pulling up at the pumps, filling up and paying their money at the kiosk.
Nobody could see easily into the back of the car with its dark tinted windows and Johnson smiled as he realised that it was the perfect vehicle.

‘
Right John boy, nice and slowly, we’re going to drive out the petrol station and back onto the motorway. Don’t be drawing any attention to the car, nice and easy does it. With your left hand, take hold of the blade of the knife loosely between your finger and thumb and pass it back to me. Nothing sudden. Understand?’

John didn’t reply. He just passed the knife behind him.
Although he was disgusted at himself for having treated this poor woman in this way, he knew he had no choice. Had she resisted in any way, Johnson would as likely as not have taken great pleasure in causing her real pain.

She still hadn’t said a word.

‘Where’s the keys’ said john quietly. She still said nothing.

‘
Just give me the keys and we’ll get going. I’m not going to hurt you.’

The passenger seat was moving as John saw her shaking, her right hand clenched in a fist.
Still she said nothing. Where before her mouth had been flapping open and closed. Now, it was locked shut in abject terror. He could see the veins on her face and jaw standing out as she clenched her teeth together. Johnson leaned close behind her left ear and in a deeply menacing voice said,

‘
give him the fucking keys or I’ll stick you here.’

She could see the glint of the blade out of the corner of her right eye but she was powerless to do or say anything. The tears streamed down her cheeks but still she could not act.
John saw that her clenched fist was holding a key fob and he said to Johnson,

‘
it’s all right, she’s got the keys in her hand, don’t hurt her, she can’t do anything. She’s not being obstructive, she can’t help it.’

He took hold of her right hand in both his hands. He tried to be gentle; he knew she was absolutely traumatised. Her hands were closed so tightly around the keys that he had to force her fingers apart. As he opened her fingers one by one, he saw that the key had cut into the palm of her hand.
Now that her hand was open, the blood began to freely flow. He shook her gently. No response. He took her face in his hand and turned it towards him and she looked in his direction. She still didn’t speak. Her eyes were screaming at him. She tried to open her mouth but it was as though someone had put a tight band around her chin.

‘
Have you got a handkerchief or something in your bag?’

She nodded.

‘
Roll it up and put it in the palm of your hand and close your hand again like a fist. Okay?’ At the same time as quietly telling her what to do, he was demonstrating the same using his own hand as a guide.

Again she nodded and began to move. He took the keys from her and started the car. He was hoping that she hadn’t filled up and that they had got her car empty. That way, her ordeal would be over sooner rather than later as they would probably ditch the car for another. No such luck.
She had just filled up and had also bought a few sandwiches and bottles of pop for the kids, along with some bags of sweets. Johnson, either by good fortune or good judgement had chosen his new victim well. They had plenty of petrol and food to do them for quite a few hours; John’s heart sank once more as he headed back onto the motorway.