[Locked 02.0] Locked In

by GB Williams

  ‘Not while the other hostages are still at risk.’

  ‘Hold your fire,’ Andrews commanded. ‘Spader, return to commentary.’

  ‘First man has disappeared behind the van. Don’t know if you just heard that, but he shouted for the next guy. Door is opening again. A second man has appeared. Shit.’

  ‘Spader?’

  ‘This one’s holding a kid, she looks terrified, cry—’

  ‘Describe the man,’ Andrews cut across the stream.

  ‘Dark hair and mid-brown skin, trimmed beard. Tan leather jacket. He has another bag over his shoulder, strap across the torso.’

  All their ill-gotten gains, Piper presumed.

  ‘Now there’s another one coming out. Woman this time. Her hands are up, contusion across her forehead, it’s bled badly. She has long dark hair and a sexy burgundy corset.’

  Teddington.

  ‘Spader,’ Andrews warned.

  ‘She’s a lot calmer than the previous two.’

  ‘Resignation?’ Andrews suggested to those inside the van.

  Piper’s expression stressed his uncertainty. ‘It’s not the first time someone’s threatened her life.’ Not even the first time today.

  ‘Concentrate on the men, Spader,’ Andrews ordered. ‘They’re the ones we’re interested in.’

  ‘Next is another male. White, conventionally-cut blond hair. Black suit. Another bag. Another man has stepped out. Very tall, with an overhanging brow. Thick sweater, the kind you get from military surplus stores. No hostage and two bags this time.’

  ‘Do you have line of sight on all?’ Andrews asked.

  ‘No,’ a different voice came back. ‘First four are behind the van.’

  Andrews cursed softly.

  ‘I see a man in the driver’s seat, wait a second, the first hostage must have gone into the van. Second adult hostage approaching—Whoa! She’s tripped, is down, man in black has grabbed her—Jesus!’

  ‘Spader!’

  ‘Have line of sight.’ Another voice.

  ‘Not while the other hostages are in danger.’ Sheldrake had moved up behind Piper as he radioed the tail car to put them on standby. ‘What was the expletive for, Spader?’

  ‘Way he grabbed her, looked like he was going to rip her arm off. She looked like she was ready to rip his head off too but stopped herself. They’re glaring. All I can hear is the kid crying. Brunette breaks glare to look into the van. Man in black has a gun to brunette’s chin. Now is our best chance.’

  ‘Hold your fire,’ Andrews insisted.

  Piper found himself gripping his stool and holding his breath. He didn’t want Teddington killed on his watch. He’d rather she wasn’t killed on any watch.

  ‘Brunette’s put her hands up. She’s turning to the van, getting in. Man in black and the one in the sweater are now in van. Rear door closing. Van is pulling away.’ The man’s tone reflected a certain amount of deflation at not being able to take the shot.

  Andrews stepped from the van door, caught the eye of one sergeant and, as pre-agreed, gave the nod. Then he left the squad to go in the front of the bank.

  Piper couldn’t move.

  Confirmation came over the radio that the van was out and moving. As agreed, no marked vehicles gave chase, but the blue Astra was in pursuit, hanging back and following the tracker more than the van. Everything was in place. Now all they could do was wait.

  25

  Pushed forward, Teddington first nearly tripped over the bags, and then over Miss Arden. The blonde was vaguely central along the inside of the van.

  Behind the cab was the only place Teddington could go, so she did. Her jellified knees made her grateful she could sit back down. There was nothing inside the van for her to cling on to, so she wasn’t sure what was going to happen when they moved off, or went around a corner. Charlie dumped his bags with the others in the middle of the van, then moved closer to her, his back against the van wall, his long legs reaching across the width of the vehicle so he could brace himself. And her, hopefully.

  At the rear of the van, Mr Blue still had hold of the crying Lucy. It seemed an odd position for him to take up, but Teddington was willing to bet the choice had something to do with tormenting Lucy with the proximity of freedom. Mr White pulled the back door shut behind him and sat opposite Mr Blue. Each of those men had a wheel arch to brace themselves against.

  Mr White nodded at Charlie.

  Even knowing that it was Charlie under the Neanderthal brow wasn’t making Teddington feel any safer. Especially when he leaned across her to knock three times on the dividing wall between the cab and the haulage space. As they started to move, the break in inertia pushed her towards Charlie, but she managed to scoot back. The men had thrown the bags of loot into the middle of the van, and then, like Teddington, they moved around the floor.

  She looked down the van towards Lucy. There was nothing she could do with Charlie and Mr Blue between them. Lucy was crying and wriggling, starting to get bolder in her fighting of Mr Blue, using her heels to kick.

  ‘Why don’t you let Lucy come up here with me,’ Teddington suggested. ‘She’ll be quieter with me, but just as trapped.’

  Lucy was thrashing now, but Mr Blue had brought her onto his lap, his arm trapping her there as she wriggled and squirmed. Mr Blue held the girl tight as he smiled at Teddington.

  ‘She’s fine just where she is.’ Lucy continued moving over his lap and Mr Blue’s smile grew creepier. ‘She’s doing a grand job.’

  ‘She’s just a kid,’ Miss Arden muttered.

  Too sick to her stomach to say anything, Teddington was glad the blonde had finally found her courage and her voice.

  Mr Blue just looked at Lucy and pushed his hips up. Teddington realised that either Lucy was too innocent to realise what was going on, or nothing was going on and Mr Blue was just trying to put them even more on edge. She hoped for the latter and suspected the former. Whatever the case, the best reaction in this situation was no reaction. Teddington looked away. It took a moment to realise that the chattering teeth were her own. This was shock, in part at least.

  Bowing her head, she closed her eyes and pulled in a deep breath, a breath that caught when the inflation of her lungs shifted the bruising on her side. She had to get a grip. Her head was banging, her wits felt slow. That was part of the concussion. Her body was quaking. Given that her coat was still in the bank and she was wearing a sleeveless corset, was it any surprise she was cold?

  Good. That was good. Fear wasn’t taking over, though she would admit that when Mr White had grabbed her after her trip, she was ready to tear his head off. That flash of rage could have been a fatal mistake, probably not just for her.

  The reality was that her chances of survival were low, but they weren’t non-existent. All she had to do was—

  ‘Ah!’

  Charlie knew enough about Teddington to know she wouldn’t have meant to cry out, but the sound was forced out of her as they rounded a sudden bend and she was thrown to the side. He was taking the press of inertia on his right hand, using the thin lip of the sliding door to hold himself. Thankfully only her shoulder hit the sliding door, not her forehead. It still looked bad, but was at least scabbing over nicely.

  Her eyes had been closed. She was probably trying to get her reactions under control. That was good, he needed her calm, it was one less thing for him to worry about. And now she was looking up him, centrifugal force keeping her pushed against the van’s side door.

  ‘You okay?’

  She nodded but as she moved to sit, he raised his arm and pulled her against him. Securing her to his side. It felt foolishly good. He wanted to bend down and kiss her.

  Now you really are being foolish.

  ‘Are we being followed?’

  Mr White was talking into a short-range radio. Charlie held Teddington close, hoping that she’d warm up. He was torn between what he wanted to do and what he had to do. Static interrupted his thoughts, then Mr Orange’s voice came
back, barely audible. Charlie strained to hear.

  ‘No tail that I can see.’

  Mr White looked back at him. Simon Lincoln had penetrating eyes, but they didn’t scare Charlie anywhere near as much as a single glance from Broughton used to.

  ‘If they are following, it’s likely to be two or three cars back.’ He had to speak loud above the engine noise. He had to ignore the fact that Teddington had laid her head on his shoulder, her hair tickling his ear. That apple scent shouldn’t get to him, but it did. ‘More likely to be a tracker on the van or an eye in the sky. Tell—’ He’d been about to use Stubbs’ real name, but if he did that, he was condemning Teddington. ‘Tell him to look up, look for a helicopter.’

  Mr White did. There appeared to be no aerial tail.

  ‘And this takes care of any on-board device.’

  Mr White was brandishing a small black plastic box. Charlie recognised it as a jammer. They didn’t cost much and were readily available if you knew where to go. He hadn’t thought about it, but clearly Lincoln had. Just like he’d come up with contingency plans that he hadn’t shared. And what were all those whispers between Lincoln and Andrew Beamish, the man under the Blue banner? What things did they say? What plans did they make? Plans like dragging Lucy into this? A kid had never been part of the plan. On a school day, there shouldn’t even have been one in the bank.

  Teddington pressed into him as they went around another corner. She hadn’t been part of the plan either, but Lincoln hadn’t hesitated to use her. If Charlie put a foot wrong, she would pay for it with her life.

  ‘No tail,’ Mr Blue said looking at Lucy, who had finally settled down. ‘Do you know that means?’

  All wide-eyed and innocent, Lucy looked at the man and shook her head.

  ‘It means we don’t need you any more.’

  ‘You’re going t-to lez me go?’ Hope sprang in her voice despite the brace-induced lisp.

  ‘Yeah.’

  At the last second Charlie realised what was happening.

  ‘No!’ Shoving Teddington away, he lunged, but Lincoln had the door open. As Charlie reached for Lucy, the girl was sent tumbling and screaming through the open rear. Breaks squealed behind them, cars snaked to avoid the prone girl. Mr White pulled the door shut. All Charlie could do was stare in horror at what they’d done.

  ‘Just throwing out the trash.’

  Charlie saw red. He pounced but Beamish was quicker. A boot to the shoulder pushed him off balance, the van turning sharply forced him back.

  ‘You bastard!’

  ‘There was no need for that,’ Beamish snarled.

  ‘What about this?’

  A sudden cry of pain snapped his attention to Teddington, her jaw tight against obvious pain as her head was pushed down by Carol. The blonde bitch had managed to twist and pin Teddington to the floor where he’d pushed her. Now the spiked heel she had worn was being pressed into Teddington’s ear. In prison, Charlie had seen a man deafened by such an act; as a young police officer he’d arrested a girl for affray in a drunken brawl, but the way she’d twisted her heel in a boy’s head had increased the charge up to murder.

  That girl had been unwitting—Carol wasn’t. For a moment, he saw only Teddington, knowing how much danger she was in. He’d always known Beamish was a psycho, but throwing a kid from a moving vehicle? How could anyone do that? Still, it had been done and he couldn’t change it. He could do something for Teddington though.

  Charlie shifted, moved to his previous spot. ‘No,’ he said carefully, ‘there’s no need for that either.’

  Only when he’d backed away from the other two men did Carol release Ari, going over to sit with Beamish. Her boyfriend.

  As they settled down together, Teddington was sitting up. She looked dazed, confused. Charlie didn’t have to move far to simply invite her back to him. Even if his arm screamed in protest. She was more important. With one eye on the others, Teddington carefully eased herself against him. As she nestled under his arm, her head on his shoulder, he was worried. The battlefield had shifted. Beamish was grinning at him. Not a good sign. As Beamish pulled Carol to him, he pointed his gun at Charlie—no, at Teddington. He mimed the action of taking a shot. Charlie felt Teddington shudder. Beamish laughed.

  26

  As soon as they had the all-clear from the rear of the building that the bank robbers were gone, Andrews’ men went in the front.

  Piper scraped his hands over his face. The gang still had three hostages, at least one of whom, Teddington, had been injured, and another was a child. Carlisle was still in theatre with a bullet in his back. And one member of the gang was dead on the floor.

  Hiding in the observation van wouldn’t help and while he still had a job, he’d better go and do it. As Piper walked towards the bank, a tall man in a double-breasted suit was being escorted out. Mallory Presswick. Piper didn’t care that the man was rubbing his wrists and complaining. If that was all he had to complain about, he had no complaints. The guys from uniform could deal with him, take his statement, though right now they were handing him over to the paramedics. Next out was a short woman with a Middle Eastern look, Zanti Bashir.

  ‘Where’s Sam?’ Piper heard her say. ‘Samuel Frankfort? He came out with that man who got shot? Where is he?’

  ‘It’s alright,’ Piper said stepping closer. ‘Sam went to the hospital to get checked out.’

  ‘Is he hurt?’

  ‘No, don’t worry, he’s fine. It’s just routine to check everyone for shock.’ Trying a reassuring smile, Piper wasn’t sure he managed it. ‘You’ll probably see him at the hospital.’

  Piper was expecting the final hostage to be out, but there was no sign. He could hear a woman sobbing inside. Checking with the man stationed at the door, Piper went in to find her in floods of tears, pushing away the female officer trying to calm her. One man was stationed by the body of the shot gang member. They couldn’t take him outside while the press and public were still out there. The SOCOs would need to do their bit, too. Piper stopped a single step inside the building, standing shoulder to shoulder with Andrews.

  ‘I figured it was best to keep her in here, let the rabble outside disperse a bit. Keep her upset private.’

  Piper nodded. The woman had a right to be hysterical, and no one needed that on public news broadcasts.

  ‘Good call.’

  Piper blinked in surprise and turned to see Sheldrake behind him. ‘How was it out there?’

  Her look was sardonic. ‘How do you think?’

  ‘Sorry, ma’am.’

  She shrugged. ‘It’s part of my job.’

  ‘Don’t give me that twaddle!’ Megan shouted, again pushing away the female officer as she stood up. ‘My daughter is still with those monsters!’

  ‘She’s also,’ Piper said, stepping up to Megan, who turned to him with an eye ready to burn him to cinders, ‘with Ariadne Teddington. Ari will do everything she can to keep your daughter safe.’

  ‘Ari tried but she couldn’t keep herself safe.’

  ‘And she did that to keep you safe. Look, I understand—’ He held up a hand and stopped Megan before she ranted at him. ‘How it feels to have your child in danger. I know you’re going through hell right this moment, just as I would if it were my daughter who’d been taken. But you have to trust me when I say that we are doing everything we can to ensure we bring your daughter home alive and well.’

  He watched the anger drain out of Megan and all that was left was devastation. Her shoulders slumped and her eyes pleaded.

  ‘I just want my little girl back.’

  Piper put a comforting hand on her shoulder. ‘I know.’ Then as Megan bowed her head and started to cry, he looked at the PC behind her, a reliable-looking woman who had silently watched all, empathy clear, without being so intense that it would compromise the PC. The PC took up the blanket that Megan had thrown off and placed it around her, leading the now quiet mother from the bank.

  Piper watched her leave. He reall
y did understand the terrible position any parent would be in at this point. His own daughter had once gone missing, albeit only for four hours, but they were the worst four hours of his entire life. She’d been eight, much the same age as Lucy was now. He’d hated Charlie for making him stay home, to wait and be useless, while Charlie had searched, but in the end, it had been the right call. Charlie had carried home his little girl, Shauna, safe and sound. Though Charlie had never said what he’d had to do to get her back, Shauna had hinted, and ever since she had seen Charlie as some kind of superhero.

  Ten years had passed but the pain of those four hours was something he would never forget. He saw the same thing in Megan Barton. He suspected that Mrs Whittaker, Teddington’s mother, was going through just as much anguish and with just as a debilitating sense of helplessness.

  ‘You have a daughter?’ Sheldrake asked as she stepped closer to Piper.

  For a moment Piper just looked at the woman. Her unexpected bursts of humanity kept surprising him. ‘I have two. Twins. And a son.’

  ‘One of each myself.’ Sheldrake was nodding. ‘Poor woman.’

  Piper wasn’t sure how to take this softer side of Sheldrake. Thankfully, she seemed to realise her error and the professional shell clicked back into place. She pointed to the dead man on the floor. ‘What about this one?’

  They stopped behind the first SOCO, who was putting out evidence cards, not that there was much to mark. Just the body. Piper looked down at the man; there was a neat little hole in his forehead, and a congealing pool of blood made an uneven halo round his head.

  ‘That certainly isn’t a face from the pictures you showed me,’ Sheldrake said.

  ‘No, ma’am, nor is it a face I recognise.’

  ‘Chief Inspector!’

  Piper and Sheldrake turned swiftly to see Siddig at the door. She was breathing hard and looked worried.

  ‘You’re needed in the field office.’

  Their short acquaintance was enough for Piper to know that Siddig wasn’t wasting his time. She moved back as Piper strode towards her and they marched shoulder to shoulder from the bank, Sheldrake bringing up the rear.