I tailed off; ‘and the dozy bastard keeps missing us, thank God.’
Calamity bounced up above the dumpster and started firing the sabot rounds downrange into the balconies. Zap-zap-zap, like bright yellow death rays, the bullets cracked at Mach 3.5. Sparks novaed from the brickwork. She dropped back down. ‘Hmm. Not that accurate either, these things. Did I get him?’
Fuzz gave her a pitying look.
Up on the balcony, a large section of brickwork fell into the square. Something had caught fire. Smoke began to curl. Someone was screaming in a foreign language.
The ARV commander was shouting at us. ‘What does he want?’ asked Bang-Bang.
‘I dunno.’
‘What?’ I shouted. He was making chopping gestures and pointing rearwards. ‘No idea Holly. Get him on the radio.’
‘Tried that.’
‘What?’
Fuzz was speaking into the headset that Mishy was holding out to her. Calamity shouted towards the ARV commander and pointed, chopping her palm down. ‘He’s! On. The. Balcony!’
A round snapped between us and everyone ducked behind cover. Behind the commander, a whole line of armed cops were stacking up, readying ballistic shields and poking their guns at an angle. The nearest to us pulled his Glock pistol on its coil and checked the chamber, racking the slide back. From his eyes, I could tell he was keyed up and ready for the fight.
Suddenly a woman pushing a pram trolleyed right between our lines, talking on a mobile. ‘What the…’
‘Go forward go get her!’
More rounds kicked up dust, she screamed and fell and the commander ran back to fling himself on her. ‘Cover!’
The Glock guy started blatting rounds back. Crack-crack. Cartridge cases started spattering over the concourse. His oppo readied a baton round launcher, bounced up and fired a CS gas grenade into the balconies. It arced through the air, hit the wrong balcony and bounced, hissing ineffectually.
From our left, an armoured vehicle screeched into the south of the square and disgorged more boilersuited police. The ones with carbines and ballistic shields formed up to protect two negotiators with an oversized loudhailer, and then they all ran forward to the cover of the next line of abandoned cars. The baton launcher guy turned away and cast us a forlorn glance as he spoke into his headset. His chatter came up on our radio channel. ‘Confirm AZ18 and AZ19 on third floor of Eagle House.’ He craned his neck. ‘Have visual.’ He looked back at us. ‘I’ve lost contact with Silver. I’m going to try and raise our Tac-A but no-one knows where she is. Can you two keep an eye on the negotiators?’
I started to reply but at that point the loudhailer blared into action with the most appalling distorted speech. It soon got attention from the sniper, who started putting high-velocity rounds into the ballistic shields, the cars, everything. The very air winced under the flight of the bullets. The police dived for cover and lay as flat as shadows. On the third floor balcony of Eagle House, cracks echoed out and cordite smoked as AZ18 and 19 returned fire into Orion House. Glass shattered.
We were all still behind the most ridiculous bright pink refuse bin, directly under the field of fire of the sniper. Something had to give, and finally it did. Bang-Bang gave me the most evil look and then stood and glared at the distant balconies. She took a deep breath. ‘Yeah I know, let’s spend our honeymoon in vibrant, scenic Tower Hamlets! Fucking Tower Hamlets investigating a serial killer and a mad sniper, that’s a good idea isn’t it! – ’
Another round impacted inches from her and showered her in fragments. She aimed her pistol and returned fire into the balcony. Cartridge cases spumed into the air from her pistol. One dropped down the front of Maryam’s blouse and she stood up yelling and cursing, batting at the scorching metal until a laughing Bang-Bang pulled her back down into cover.
A silence fell over the plaza. My ears were singing. A smoke haze hung in the air. Bang-Bang got up again and turned to look at the cowering masses around Costcutter. Some local lads were scrambling for cover and they started to crawl like beetles under a Petri dish. She fixed them with a stare. ‘What are you looking at you fucking Bengali dwarves?’
The sniper opened up again, this time on full auto. Dust swirled and blinded us all.
I fired a wild round in the direction of the threat and dragged Bang-Bang into the cover of a parked car as bullets took out the lights on top of the ARV. Plastic splinters flew. Fuzz was laughing and shaking her head. Bang-Bang fought her way out of my grasp. She looked at me, the balcony, and then Fuzz. ‘Hang on a minute. Hang on a minute… our prime suspect just got shot. We’re in a firefight with another suspect…’
I looked at her, probably dumbly. Bang-Bang swore. ‘Fuck! The hunting ground! Ambush One! I’ve gotta go.’ And she was gone, left and through the estate fire exit.
I got on the Airwave. ‘Er… all units. Please watch Callsign Bang-Bang, she’s gone… er. Mobile. South to Court Street, please acknowledge.’
‘Control. Acknowledged. Tracker on.’
Fuzz scrabbled to my side and nodded towards the balconies. ‘I have to say this. For someone who’s ex-TA in possession of an L86 Light Support Weapon, with scope, he’s not the best shot.’
I nodded. ‘Thank Allah. He is. Or maybe he’s rattled.’
Fuzz started loading shells into the drum of her shotgun. ‘Maybe, mashallah. And, I have a plan. Ready?’
I nodded. ‘Yeah. It’s not like I have anything better to do. What is the plan by the way?’
Fuzz lowered the shotgun and gave a searching look into my face. I looked back, into the crazy blue eyes. ‘There’s method to our madness. While we’re all here blatting away, Roadrunner and Bullet and two ARV crews are working their way west parallel to us. They’re using the housing blocks as cover. We’ll drive the bastard right onto their guns.’ And then the crazy broken smashed teeth grinned. ‘Bhai. Let’s go.’
I checked the chamber on my pistol. Brass glinted. ‘OK. Let’s go.’
There were more gunshots and yelling, and blueish smoke. One of the firearms officers fell, slumped by their car. Calamity fired back over the car roofs and ran to him with the only medical pack. I looked at Fuzz and shouted in her ear. ‘Maybe we spoke too soon!’
An ambulance tore into the square and braked besides the armoured car. There was another ripping burst of wild full-auto that took out all the plant furniture and the ambulance roof as its cab doors opened. Everyone returned fire to give the ambulance crew space to pull at the firearms officer.
Maryam yelled and unloaded her AK on full-auto over the top of the council bin. The AK jammed. A cartridge had stovepiped in the breech. ‘Stoppage!’
‘Covering!’ said Mishy and fired two shots. Maryam made a little “comme-ci, comme-ca” gesture and tilted the AK to the right, slapping at the charging handle. The loose cartridge fell free and she grinned. ‘Forward!’ She ran for the next line of cars. Mishy followed her, whooping. Fuzz stood up, complaining. ‘Mishy, come back! You’ve got the radio!’
This was turning to shit.
We regrouped round the static, smashed ARV car. They were huddled to its rear around an A to Z spread on the tarmac. The ARV commander spoke, then stopped as Fuzz stepped up to him, stood on tiptoes and took his shades off and put them on the mannequin head. He knew. Then he spoke. ‘Alright. OK. Find some positions but don’t start shooting until I signal weapons free. Got that?’
‘Got that.’ Calamity saluted and her headset fell off.
‘My two ARV crews and Trojan 28 are the only two crews that haven’t handed in our tickets, so you’re going to need us.’
We gulped. We were all crouched behind the cover of the cars. The SFO started sketching rapidly on the A to Z on the tarmac. ‘Watch. Our two vehicles will cover the exits here and there. We have one sniper team we’ll send forward to block and spot… here. You lot – use Bullen House and Blackwood House as cover, work your way around. Clear?’
We all nodded. Clear.
‘OK.
Are you Calamity?’ She nodded.
‘If you’ve got the Airwave, we’ll be on channel 6. Ready?’
We were ready.
Calamity turned to the Blackeyes. ‘What makes the grass grow?’
‘Blood blood blood!’
‘What do we do?’
‘Kill kill kill!’
48.
It was around 8pm and darkness was falling like a curtain with the mist and the spotting rain. It was getting cold. We’d chased the bastard for two whole blocks, west up Headlam Street, and we’d left terror and chaos in our wake the whole way.
I wondered where the hell my wife had gone. Ambush One, I supposed. Fuzz was speaking on the command channel. ‘OK, two teams, one shooter one spotter, seek high ground in the estates and wait for him to show himself. What do we call him?’
‘Tango One.’
‘Does he have a spotter?’
‘Nah don’t think so. But I think he left the first contact in a vehicle because he’s left us all behind. I think he’s on his own and I think he might be a crap shot, ex-TA or not... look for delivery or utility vans.’
‘OK. We have an edge.’
Mishy swapped ears and spoke into the boom mike. ‘All callsigns. Look for delivery or utility vans. One-up. Target is now assigned prefix Tango One. We’ll also need some more shop window dummy heads from… that shop. Go ask nicely. And some, I dunno, duct tape and some mop handles.’
Fuzz cut in. ‘Cheers Zaitsev.’
Mishy carried on. ‘Priya’s the best shot out of all of us, so she gets the guard.’
‘Seen.’
All around me the walkie talkies and phones hashed. The Blackeyes were going to war.
Behind me one of the Trojan ARVs pulled up. Its blues and twos flashed and blipped for a second then stopped. The commander stepped out. He got on his radio then nodded to me. ‘Hello Mr Sabir. We’re here, we’re undermanned as usual, and instructed to just get the job done. I’ve been told by my commander to find the MSSG troops. Who’s in charge?’
We all pointed at Fuzz. Fuzz had gone to point at me, slightly too late. She cursed under her breath and then caught herself. ‘Sergeant Shaheen, MSSG.’
‘OK. You know the relevant parts of the legislation?’
Fuzz walked over and looked up at the commander. She was a good sixteen inches shorter than him and he stared down dubiously. She grinned. ‘Honey. Darling. Lend me one of your spare lids.’
I jutted with my chin. ‘Yep. What she says.’
He delved into the back of his car and fished out a PASGT helmet for Fuzz. She waved it into the air and departed, jogging. And then breaking into a run as she threw our last smoke grenade to the left. She called back. ‘Follow me. Garryowen!’
I followed, Mishy tagged with us, carrying the radio and a map. I noticed she was carrying some police-issue stun grenades. Good work, Mishy, I thought. She must have pilfered them from the vehicles. She tapped Fuzz’s arm. ‘Roadrunner just called in. She’s on the south side of Rutherford House with Bullet. Nothing’s coming in and out. You can start your attack.’
Calamity called over. ‘Erm… has she got Daisy with her?’
Mishy placed a hand on her headset and spoke. ‘Wait one… yeah. She has.’
Calamity look relieved. ‘Thank God for that. OK, let’s go.’
Fuzz tapped my chest. ‘We’ve got this. The sniper is going to die. Go find Bang-Bang, bhai.’
We rounded the corner and ahead of us was a burning Mitsubishi van. Fuzz readied her shotgun. ‘That’s him! He’s in here –’
Incoming fire exploded to our left and we dived for cover.
Rain started to spatter down. There was a dull thud behind me on a balcony. Screams. My earpiece squalled and I winced. ‘Stay down! Stay down!’
Static. Fuzz chopped her hand left. ‘Decoy One. Go. I’m Decoy Two. And Decoy Two is go.’ She ran, holding that strange lashup of a broomhandle, a shopwindow dummy head, and a PASGT helmet placed on it. I waited and listened to the radio chatter. I watched the long expanses of the council blocks.
There was a crack and a puff of fire over the way.
‘Incoming fire at Decoy One. Decoy One is smoked.’
‘Come back.’
‘Mishy here. Hang on…’
Harsh noise and rustling on the airwaves. I guessed that was Mishy dragging the decoy down.
‘Yeah, Decoy One is gone. Taken out. Return fire was from Green Three. Moving.’
‘Confirm Green Three.’
‘Smoke him.’
‘Got it. Target is shooting downwards but if I run under the cover of the balconies I can blindside him. Mishy is moving.’
There was a scratching on the channel, and then two incredibly loud bangs. I cursed and worried at my ear. Fucking hell. That would have been the stun grenades. There was a caterwauling of screams and plasticky chaos, shots and violence.
I ran. Stopped. Waited. I had to know.
‘Fuzz come back.’
Nothing.
‘Riz for Fuzz. Fuzz come back.’
‘Hello bhai! Wait… Riz. We got him. He’s dead. Fourth floor. Mishy bracketed him with two flash-bangs and shot him.’ More cracklings and speech and movement. ‘We’re standing over him now. He’s very dead. There’s a big slick of blood. It looks like one of our snipers already clipped him. And yep, his sight was busted.’
‘Cheers Fuzz. Riz out.’ I ran. Into the crowds.
I ran, down, past Swanley school and the Crossrail works. Breathless, I raced, past lines of cement trucks. I ran past an ambulance response vehicle crew and skidded to a halt among the flashing lights. The crew chief was pointing. ‘It’s him! The Ripper!’
‘What?’
He pointed. ‘Down there. He’s killed another one. We’re going to the shootings.’
I ran. The stab vest was biting at me. I could hear screaming ahead. I hit the corner of Durward Street and my earpiece hashed. ‘Riz, it’s Mishy!’
‘Hey, Mishy. You OK?’
‘Yep. Garry Owen.’
‘Garry Owen. You should take something of his. A memento.’
‘Yeah. I should. I did good, didn’t I.’
‘Yes Mishy, you did.’
I looked around the corner. Time to go.
And now Bang-Bang was speaking in my ear. ‘Guys. I’ve got something. Wait out.’
I was running. I checked the action on my pistol. In my earpiece I heard the sound of a slide being racked back.
‘Holly. Come back. What have you got.’
Click-clack. High-heel clacks. ‘Dead one. Hang on… yep, a dead woman, corner of – Freeze or I fire!’
‘Holly. Holly?!’
A police controller cut in. ‘All callsigns.’
I raced to the location. The railway bridge. The Crossrail works. Here it was. Ambush One. Court Street. I bounded down the steps and my pistol was already sweeping the crowd. ‘MOD! MOD!’
Too late.
Bang-Bang was standing over a woman’s body, right under the yellow skip, and right by some sacks of rice, just like in the simulation. There was a circle of crowd, shrinking back from her and the body in fear. The corpse was steaming and bloodied. Multiple stab wounds. Bang-Bang spread her arms. Her Taser lay on the pavement, wires leading to a jacket on the ground. ‘Fuck’s sake!’ She waved in the direction of the main road. ‘He was right here. Ambush One. Right where I said. And look…’
We looked back at the prone body.
‘I Tasered him and one just snagged his coat. Dropped that, pulled my pistol but couldn’t get a clear shot.’
I nodded. ‘Good. Best not to be capping off rounds in the dark and rain, with all these crowds.’
I could see the predatory sneer in the gloom. ‘Yeah.’
‘Babe. What did he look like?’
‘Tall, skinny. Hooded top and I think he had a scarf over his face. Dunno.’
We looked to the base of the skip. There was your classic tan macintosh, with a Taser barb and wire tra
iling from it. And then she was off. ‘Follow me!’ A man from the takeaway grabbed at my jacket, jabbered at me in Bengali. By the time I’d tried to explain ourselves she’d gone. I broke free and ran, out and right and barrelling through the bus stop crowds, towards the mosque. I knew I could run from here to the mosque in under two minutes. As I ran I shouted. ‘Running man, running man! Where is he?’
People in the crowd pointed. An old fella with a dyed beard waved towards the travel agents. ‘I saw him there! Running!’
Cars screeched and concertinaed together outside the mosque. There was Bang-Bang. She jumped onto a taxi bonnet and aimed her Taser. Everyone screamed and scattered. She shook her head and was after him. I fired my pistol in the air and the crowds screamed louder. People shrank back. ‘GET DOWN!’
There was a whoop of a siren and blue strobing to my left as a police saloon arrived and braked. I hit my radio. ‘Holly! Wait one!’
‘I’ve got him Riz, I can see him! Male, tall, wearing a hood...’ Crack!
I ran. Blare of a horn. Straight into the path of a Nissan. Over the bonnet. Jesus. I slapped the windscreen. ‘Ya Allah!’
A car spanked into the back of the Nissan and shunted it forward in a fountain of smashed glass. I dropped off the bonnet and checked I still had my gun. I did. Round in the chamber. I was in the middle of Whitechapel Road. There was another gunshot and screaming and panic around ELM. My earpiece bleeped. ‘India 99 inbound, stand by’
Ahead of me the mosque crowds cowered. I ran through and... right, up onto the staircase of the mosque. The office manager flapped his arms ahead of me. ‘Rizwan this is not –’ I grabbed him. ‘Where’d she go? Where’d she go?’
He looked dumbly. Gunfire barked from the direction of the park. Behind me an area car arrived, lights strobing, and the crew jumped out and started arguing with the public order troops. I turned. ‘For Christ’s sake! They're down this road!’
A Bronze Commander I didn’t recognise came to my side and hit his own radio. We jogged forward using parked vehicles as cover. The Bronze Commander looked through a van window and dropped back down. ‘Are we good to go?’
Locked and Loaded: A Riz Sabir Thriller Omnibus Page 56
