Scorpio's Lot (121 page)

‘Who and what is this person?’

‘Unquestionably Lou Hanna and the
infamous Piedpiper!’ declared Arthur Simpson, who didn’t hesitate to reveal the
scoundrel.

Martha was near collapse. Forbes
looked like he’d just been hit by a truck and I continued to stare in absolute
disbelief. Everybody was literally shell-shocked by Arthur’s verification.
Indigo turned to the Scorpio pair, still seated cross-legged, for further
confirmation.

‘Is this person the Piedpiper?’

Neither man responded, not even a
nod to confirm or deny. They simply sat with their heads bowed in silence. The
Traffik boss was fast becoming incensed with this sudden lack of cooperation.

‘You’ll regret the day you were
born if you continue this way!’ he roared.

Both men remained still. Not a
murmur was uttered. In a furious display of temper he let fly with his boot
again, striking the pair in the upper torso to the sound of their screams, He
repeated the callous act until the shorter man declared he had had enough.

‘Okay, okay. Yes, it’s our
leader!’ he yelled back.

‘Anyone can be your
leader,
but is he the Piedpiper?’ insisted Indigo, determined to reveal the truth.

‘Yes!’ he repeated.

‘Good. With a bit of earlier
cooperation you could’ve saved yourself the suffering.’

Indigo was in his element for he
now had Arthur’s testimony in addition to an admission from the Scorpio
accomplice. One further task remained and that was to question the man himself.

‘How I’ve longed for this moment,
Mr Hanna. Please confirm to your audience that you are indeed the Piedpiper.’

A pause of uncomfortable silence
followed.

‘I can’t hear you!’ taunted
Indigo, hell-bent in getting some mileage before the inevitable.

‘That I am!’ The man showed no
emotion.

‘Thank you. Have you any idea of
the trouble Scorpio has caused me?’ Indigo continued, leering at his captive.

No reaction was forthcoming.

Indigo continued with his
melodramatics. ‘Then let me refresh your memory. For starters, your very public
crucifixion of two men who displayed no prior threat. Handing personal details
to the cops, which led to the arrest of some of my key people. And throw in the
near destruction you have caused my organisation. You have been unrelenting in
your pursuit to put me out of business, but it’s your sinister methods that I
cannot forgive. What have you got to say for yourself?’

‘I’ve never been directly
responsible for any deaths,’ he replied.

‘Oh, we’re redirecting the blame?’

‘Not at all. On the contrary, you
know exactly where the blame lies.’

‘I do? Then please enlighten me
as to who the culprit is.’

‘The Keeper directed those orders
who you have since eliminated.’

‘You are the regional head who
must accept responsibility, so don’t play politics with me, you gutless
bastard!’ fumed the Traffik leader, unimpressed with this attempt to divert the
blame.

Indigo glared at his sworn enemy.
He threw an evil eye toward the remaining Scorpio pair and then briefly glanced
around at the constabulary and committee members giving the impression he was
checking to make sure all were present and accounted for. He pondered for a
couple of minutes, no doubt contemplating his next move. Lou Hanna continued to
stand still. He maintained an unemotional presence, not once expressing any
fear of his adversary. His head was marginally tilted forward and not once did
he raise his eyes to look directly at Martha, or myself for that matter. My
initial shock had given way to anger when thinking back about the unrelenting
chase, the violent attack at Peterswood, the
Molly Bloom
atrocity, the
kidnapping of Brigit and Arthur, in addition to threats and assaults in my own
living room.

Despite the terrible infliction
that Indigo had brought on Pedley, this character I once knew as Sam was
equally to blame with his history of drug-dealing and bloodshed. I could only
conclude that I was probably looking at the two most evil individuals I’d had
the misfortune to lay eyes on. I looked around at certain people within this
gathering and could see a contrast of reactions.

Forbes simply stared ahead with a
constant frown and appeared deep in thought. Anger, not surprisingly, was
etched on the faces of the remaining policemen. Martha Kellett, who was
standing near, continued to sob uncontrollably and I could detect a tear on
Helen’s cheek. The rest of the committee, including Burke, all appeared to be
in a preoccupied state of mind, perhaps still in shock with the unfolding
drama. I also knew Emily would be deeply distressed after taking Sam into her
confidence.

The Traffik leader awoke from his
meditation and with it came a fury of abuse and despicable acts of torture that
he intended to demonstrate. We were supposedly to become his witnesses in
viewing a slow and painful death. I had already seen enough punishment to last
me a lifetime, let alone some grotesque display of cruelty that would leave us
all feeling quite sick.

‘Our Piedpiper is about to be
reduced to an object begging for mercy with each incision of my blade. Before I’m
finished with this jerk, he’ll be pleading to be put out of his misery!’ said
Indigo savagely.

~ * ~

ith
their arrival at the demolished Broadbent site, Gallagher instructed his men to
enter the confines below and to wait on reaching the first platform. He would
descend last to ensure he had a correct head count. As the squad filed passed
and progressively disappeared below, he cast an eye around the site and was
relieved to see their presence hadn’t attracted an early-morning audience. A
police barrier line and around-the-clock security remained evident to
discourage the idle curious. Leading to the initial landing, a makeshift timber
wall had been erected to ensure safe entry and exit. With twenty-three persons
at his disposal, Gallagher felt the team resembled a small army rather than a collection
of assorted constabulary.

They had been briefed to
encourage sign language given the acoustics that bluestone would accentuate in
an underground environment. Verbal communication would not be tolerated unless
considered mandatory. With the last of the troops descending on the platform,
the task force was now assembled to commence their rescue. Two abreast, the
constabulary followed the SOG unit, forever winding, spiraling and descending
the passageways.

A swift surveillance of the first
two levels drew zero occupancy. The aid of heat-sensing and enhanced
night-vision equipment served well to speed up the processes. Carefully, but
deliberately, they descended the steps in pairs to an awaiting third floor.
Like their predecessors they unexpectedly detected the sound of a distant
generator. On the assumption this laborious and mechanical noise was an
indication of enemy headquarters; their objective had been reached far quicker
than what Gallagher had anticipated.

The four SOG troopers complete
with night-vision goggles and an array of arsenal went ahead and would report
back their positions and observations. In terms of pinpointing the precise
location, the task at hand was relatively easy. A loud and aggressive voice
could be heard in the distance, perhaps some two intersecting corridors beyond
the compressor. Accusations and threats dominated proceedings.

Approaching the near circular
gallery, no visual contact of its inhabitants could yet be detected. On the
outer fringes of the auditorium the troopers commenced to separate, each
manning a post of around four equal distances until the circle was complete.
All immediate communication was carried out by an elaborate system of hand
signals.

Three of the troopers then
commenced to crawl on the chamber roofs, their objective being to reach the
railing undetected and analyse the disturbance below. The sudden presence of a
dead body lying sprawled across the rooftop was observed by one of the men. The
fourth trooper remained patiently in the background. His assignment was to
retrieve the lowdown for the purpose of returning and informing the rescue task
force. Three faces cautiously peered beyond the railing, the subdued lighting
camouflaging their very existence. They counted twenty-one heads congregated beneath,
two of which appeared deceased.

The threat derived from four
people only, most of who were assembled in proximity to each other. From the
SOG unit’s perspective, the position of firearms from below did not present a
major challenge. In anticipation that a forthcoming shootout may eventuate,
these targets were both vulnerable and in short range. The challenge would
heighten if their captives suddenly became a means for protection. Assessing
the hostages, the troopers were slightly puzzled with the segregation of three
groups, made up two, four and seven persons respectively. A further individual,
an elderly man, stood apart, looking bewildered by the unfolding drama. The
information was relayed back to their colleague who in turn would now alert the
awaiting task force. The three troopers would maintain their positions until
backup arrived.

They had been gone for around
seven minutes when suddenly the reappearance of one of the men informed
Gallagher of the whereabouts of Scorpio’s base. They had counted nineteen heads
congregated in a gallery some hundred metres directly ahead. Two-way
communications would be out of the question and a quiet approach was absolutely
mandatory. Having been trained to deal in similar situations, it was considered
customary that the four troopers would dictate proceedings from the edge of the
gallery. Gallagher would intervene following their control. They continued
forward with all mobile lighting switched off.

Around forty metres from the
target, the disturbing sound of someone ranting and raving could be heard above
the compressor. The voice appeared agitated, if not threatening, and Gallagher
approached in hope that it wasn’t the constabulary being harassed. The edge of
the gallery had now come into view and he could see two troopers already poised
and ready.

Creeping forward, his men
commenced the clockwise task of taking up their posts until the gallery was
surrounded. Although silence was mandatory, they had the advantage of some
idiot below drowning out any possible noise. Gallagher then observed a series
of hand signals being performed by the SOG unit. With everyone in position they
were now ready to declare their presence. In one slick maneuver the elite team
further signaled to each other and immediately went into action.

‘Drop everything, you are
surrounded!’ yelled the head trooper.

Predictably the reaction from
below was complete astonishment. Foolishly, two of the Traffik thugs turned
their guns on the trespassers. There was an exchange of fire. Martin and Dave
stood no chance with the shower of bullets being blasted from above. Both men
were killed instantly. Ivan, to his credit, had the good sense to throw his
weapon to the ground, for he quickly realised the odds were decisively
impossible. The defenceless John and Luke provided no threat, choosing to
remain seated amidst the sudden onslaught.

The indestructible Indigo refused
to surrender, screaming that as head of Traffik his objective would never be
crushed. He quickly grabbed hold of the Piedpiper, who retaliated with an
abrupt head butt. The intended blow had little impact. Both men exchanged
punches, their bodies entangled in a free-for-all struggle. The targets were as
defenceless as they were straightforward, but orders clearly stipulated the
hierarchy must be captured alive at all costs.