Dead Blind

by Rebecca Bradley

  ‘We’re not ready,’ he said, still doubled over, his voice subdued now, buried in his lap. ‘We only made the arrest the night before last, we expected him to play Billy a bit longer before agreeing to meet him.’

  ‘Billy has said the guy has brought it forward specifically so that no sting can be organised in time.’

  ‘The guy would be correct then, wouldn’t he? We only spoke about this with Billy at the briefing three days ago, how are we supposed to organise an operation like this in two hours, Prabhat?’ He looked up and stared into the unrecognisable face of his friend.

  ‘You can do it because we have to. This is our one shot. We can’t screw it up.’

  ‘God dammit, Prabhat.’ He was right about that at least. ‘But we’re nowhere near organised for this. I take it you’ll write the policy book for Billy being in there, because I’m damn well not signing off on it.’

  ‘I’ll speak to source handling and let them know it’s on. He’s signed up as an official CHIS. It shouldn’t be a problem.’

  Ray scrubbed at his hair as his mind whirled. This wasn’t a situation he particularly wanted to put himself or his team in. Not with his diagnosis. There was no fighting Prabhat on it though. He wasn’t budging. If he thought about it sensibly, it shouldn’t prove to be an issue. He was to travel to the meet with the team he already knew, and it was Billy who was responsible for the identification. His team would be doing the leg-work. His role, as always now, was supervisory. They’d control Billy and the offender once Billy indicated the one they were after. His own inability to recognise a face should not cause this particular operation a problem.

  As far as that went, he was good. As far as them not having enough time – he still wasn’t happy.

  The door to the office opened.

  A female. Bundle of curls. ‘Tamsin, you know what we’re doing?’ Ray asked.

  She looked at Prabhat. He gave a barely perceptible nod. She’d known before Ray. Prabhat had clearly wanted her on side because he knew Ray wouldn’t be.

  ‘I do. It’s a tough call, but these people are killing civilians desperate for new lives. We need to take them out.’

  ‘And Billy?’

  ‘Billy’s been in with them for two years. No need for them to suspect him now. We scoop him up with the rest of them, all’s good.’ She smiled. Made it sound so simple.

  Only things were never as simple as they sounded.

  11

  It was tight, but Ray was happy everyone was in place. Billy had texted him the location. The gas holders at Beckton. An unusual place to meet, but Ray could see the appeal. It was open land. Wide open and flat. Home to the gasworks, and across Amanda Way was the shopping outlet with a steady stream of civilians, and in the other direction the DLR depot. From their vantage point they would be able to see any surveillance teams easily. Ray had a full team, but had managed to secrete them from view. There were some trees that offered some shielding and he had made use of the shopping outlet’s car park. It was further back from the actual meet than he’d have liked, but they’d had enough time to attach some discreet microphones and cameras to the first rung of the gas holder. They had eyes and ears and they would also be able to get to Billy within a few seconds when the time came.

  Today the sky was a bright blue, littered with white clouds skipping their way gently across. Below, the gas holders and gasworks offered a dreary grey contrast. A grim scene of bland, industrialised land.

  Ray hadn’t been happy about the speed with which they’d had to organise this. He would rather be prepared than for the op to go wrong, but they’d managed to do it and now they had an hour before Billy was to meet more of the key players, including the head of the organisation.

  How the hell Billy had managed to make himself so indispensable Ray didn’t even want to think. The kid had been through enough, but it was a subject they’d have to pick apart when this was all over.

  Who would have thought this was happening in the UK? In their own backyard. Yes, he knew people were desperate enough to go abroad for organs, but he hadn’t heard about an organisation that conducted the surgeries here.

  ‘You okay, guv?’ The scar on her face. His stomach clenched. Would this happen every time he saw her?

  ‘Yes, just thinking about what Billy has been through.’

  ‘Can’t have been easy. Pretty isolating for him, in fact.’ She looked Ray in the eye. All he could focus on was the scar that ran down the side of her eye. ‘People are resilient though. I hope the good he does today will go in his favour.’

  Ray knew he looked fine now. Fit and well. He could never tell her what he struggled with every day, no matter what they had gone through together. He had to keep this between him, his doctors and Helen, otherwise he risked it leaking out and him losing control of the situation. Nor could he tell her how strung-out he felt about having to remember all the little identifiers about people. How he hated that the way he remembered her was by her scar. The scar he was responsible for.

  ‘Guv?’

  ‘Yes, sorry. I would think this will indicate his real intent, don’t you?’ He checked his phone. ‘The show will be on the road soon.’

  It was then that his phone beeped with an incoming text alert:

  Location changed. They want to make sure no one involved with cops. River Road, Barking, half an hour.

  What the hell? They might get there in time, but they certainly couldn’t get electronic surveillance coverage set up, they couldn’t get microphones in place, or cameras. Again it was a wide open space. They would be hard pressed to get any officer close enough to see or hear anything. He called Billy but there was no reply. He sent a text message.

  Abort.

  Billy responded.

  No. This is your chance. Be there.

  Shit. He was being led around by the nose by a kid who was in too deep, and there was no way to stop it.

  This was falling apart faster than a sandcastle in the incoming tide.

  12

  The knuckles on Ray’s hands glowed white as he gripped the steering wheel. He imagined that, in contrast, his face was some shade of red; he felt as though someone had inflated a balloon in his head and it was about to burst at any minute.

  ‘Damn stupid kid. He’ll get himself killed.’ Elaine was in the car beside him, which didn’t help his stress levels. It was the first time he’d driven with her as a passenger since the accident. He felt as though he was driving a piece of valuable china about and one wrong move would smash it into small pieces that would never be able to be put back together again.

  ‘He’s been okay until now. If he pushes against the instructions he’s been given, it’s more likely to appear suspicious,’ Elaine said.

  Ray grunted. It didn’t help that he hadn’t been in control of the job from the start. It was always much easier if you knew the job inside out, if it was yours from the get-go. Walking in like this, halfway through, was probably what was setting his teeth on edge.

  ‘We’ll never set up in this warehouse in time. Not with the surveillance equipment.’

  ‘We’ll have to do it the old-fashioned way then.’ A sensible response every time. ‘And at least with a warehouse we’ll be able to get closer to them.’

  She had a point. He sneaked a glance at her. Saw the scar sliding down her face and stared back at the road.

  The call to the source handler to try to get him to change Billy’s mind had been in vain. Joe had a better relationship with Billy than anyone, as he had been the person involved from the very start, but he was no longer involved. And they didn’t have time to pull him in now. It had most definitely turned to shit.

  Will and Paula were in the car behind him, and Tamsin and others in the cars behind them. Ray turned left and watched in his rear-view as they continued on the road they’d been on.

  ‘Where are we going?’ asked Elaine, a puzzled tone to her voice.

  Shit. He had no idea. He had thought it was this way but now he’d t
aken the turn he didn’t recognise where he was and he knew he’d got it wrong. As well as his failure to recognise faces, it seemed he had also lost his sense of direction. He’d been warned that this could happen.

  ‘Dammit.’ He slammed his hand down on the steering wheel. ‘Dammit Elaine – I’m sorry. I’m exhausted. I didn’t sleep well last night. Some residual pain.’ Shit, he was a bastard. He hated to lie to her like this. To use his injury. ‘I’m losing us time messing up like this. Can you take over? I don’t want to screw up again.’

  He didn’t want to look at her.

  ‘Yeah, sure.’

  He checked his rear-view and pulled over and they swapped seats. Elaine took over the driving.

  The A13 was rammed with traffic and Ray could feel the tension rise as they attempted to manoeuvre through the three lanes. They arrived at the derelict warehouse on River Road with just short of fifteen minutes to spare. It sat to the side of where the Sunday market was held, in clear view of the old power station. There had been no recce of the premises done. No time to get up close and personal with them.

  The sky was still bright but the air felt cooler here. The Thames was behind them now and carried its salty, oily life on the breeze. You couldn’t see it, but Ray knew it was there. Could feel it in the air. Like an animal stalking in the brush. Silent. Deadly.

  He barked brief orders at the team. Directed them to some positions. They were to get as close as they could without being seen. Ray wanted Billy protected.

  His team had to try to find spots around the perimeter of the run-down metal-cased building that would both hide them and give them a vantage point to see from.

  He was frustrated as hell. To do this in such a rush was asking for trouble.

  Ray checked the inside of the building. It was no longer in use but it had been abandoned without being cleared out properly. There were pallets filled with who knew what, wrapped in blue plastic that was now peeling off, and lifting equipment to move the pallets around, and at the rear of the building was a mezzanine created with slim metal girders, now rusting, underneath which were stacked several gallon drums.

  Ray squatted down behind a group of the large rusting drums that were backed into a corner. He pushed his hand against one. It was cool to his touch and felt hefty. It was full. He pushed against another. Again, full. This would make do as a surveillance point. The drums were heavy, they wouldn’t move – but he would have to stay completely still, as any slight movement could be spotted through the slivers of gaps between the drums. But this was the only place he would be able to get a visual for when Billy was able to give them the identification signal. It would have to do.

  With no electronic visual or audio equipment, he needed eyes and ears for this to work, and he was only willing to risk himself. All he needed was for Billy to indicate that they had the right guy, and Ray could shout everyone else in.

  The earpiece that connected him to everyone else involved in this operation buzzed gently in his ear, letting him know that it worked. Static filled the air as they waited it out. His thighs burned as he crouched. Bones that had knitted back together ached. He didn’t move.

  Several silent minutes dragged by and then a single voice, Will’s, came over the earpiece.

  ‘An old Ford Mondeo has pulled in. There are three nominals inside but from this point I can’t get a good look at them.’

  It had started.

  Ray swore to himself that if they got through this he would string someone up by their balls afterwards.

  13

  Ray had a good view inside the warehouse. He was almost bent double, crouched down behind the drums, knees creaking, leg throbbing, complaining at him that it shouldn’t be held in this position for any length of time. But he couldn’t move, he had a perfect spot, the full length of the building was visible. He could see the door where they’d enter, and he had a view of most of the rest of the facility, other than some of the side areas. The gap between the drums provided a straight-line visual, but it wasn’t great if someone stepped out to the side.

  The other problem was, he was blind to the outside and had to rely on the commentary of those who were out there. And the perimeter coverage was blotchy due to the way this had gone down. He knew not all of it was covered. They hadn’t had time to organise where staff could put themselves out of view but with a line of sight. As with the Beckton gas holders, it was a good place for the organising group to meet in terms of spotting any surveillance.

  A message in his ear informed him that Billy was walking in with the two men from the vehicle. It had only been possible for his staff to see the men’s backs, but it was likely these were the muscle and not the guy they were after.

  Billy came into view. Young, black, with the same red trainers he’d worn every time Ray had seen him, and the bounce in his walk that Ray liked to think indicated joy – though he knew differently.

  They walked to the centre of the warehouse and waited. No words passed between them.

  Ray watched.

  Tense.

  ‘A second vehicle has now pulled in. Three nominals again. And again I can’t get a look at them,’ Will reported again.

  There was a pause over the airwaves as Will waited to see who would exit the vehicle.

  ‘Confirming three nominals. View obstructed. Entering the warehouse now.’

  Ray watched. Only one man entered. The warehouse was vast. It was a stretch, but Ray saw two males peel away at the door.

  ‘Two are walking the perimeter, going opposing ends around.’ Will’s voice crackled over the airwaves.

  As this male entered, Ray saw the two who were with Billy straighten themselves. Their shoulders went back, their heads up, their feet wider apart.

  This must be him.

  He sauntered over to the group of three. Not a care in the world. He was tall, nearly six feet. Eastern European. Dark hair kept tidy. Dark bomber jacket.

  ‘So this is Billy,’ Ray heard him say as he approached them.

  ‘Hey,’ Billy said, and he bounced a little on his feet.

  Ray was tense, both because of his position and for how this was going to play out. He had five unknown nominals and a very untidy operation in play. After a short conversation in the middle of the warehouse, which he could no longer hear, the two males that had originally entered with Billy moved to the doorway and stood guard there, leaving Billy and the male alone.

  This must be the guy they were after. He had to hope the listening equipment, no matter how far away, could pick up some of their conversation. Otherwise it would be Billy’s word against the male. An arrest would no doubt give them a trail to follow, but it wasn’t the best way to investigate.

  Ray watched as Billy bounced on the balls of his feet, nodding at the guy he was with as he talked. Then, when he had a chance he started talking himself, gesticulating with his hands, trying to get a point across. Ray hoped he was doing it well. He had no idea how dangerous these people could be if they thought they’d been set up. He wanted it to be over, to know they had done it and that everyone was safe, because it wasn’t just Billy at risk, his team was also here.

  It was as he was thinking this that the operation started to spiral out of control.

  14

  Rusnac took a step back.

  The little fuck had screwed him over. Who the hell was this kid? And how had he pulled the wool over his eyes?

  Rusnac didn’t mess around asking these questions. He wasn’t a sit-down-have-a-cup-of-tea kind of man. He drew his gun from his waistband and pointed it squarely at the kid’s head – the kid who was supposed to be a computer whizz, one who lived in the depths of the dark net like a shark gliding silent and unseen, a killer predator. The type of person Rusnac needed for his organisation.

  The kid spoke but Rusnac paid no attention; instead, he pushed the muzzle of the weapon into the boy’s head, kept his arm outstretched and his stance wide. He couldn’t get any closer. If he pulled the trigger there’d be a fuc
king big mess, and though he didn’t mind if he made a mess of other people, he didn’t like it to transfer onto him. Not if he could help it.

  He’d need to turn away. He didn’t want brain matter lodged in his eyes.

  How the hell had this happened? Where had their original web guy gone anyway? There had been mention of an arrest. A stop and search of his vehicle. A completely random incident. So they’d needed another guy. They couldn’t operate without this cog. And as the kid was running for them anyway …

  Rusnac looked across as his name was called. His guys had got twitchy when he’d pulled his gun on the kid. They were spooked, eyes like saucers. He could only see two of them, the other two were out of sight, but he knew they were there, eyes on the outside.

  ‘POLICE. PUT YOUR WEAPON DOWN, YOU ARE SURROUNDED,’ a voice shouted out from somewhere inside the warehouse.

  Fuck.

  Rusnac’s brain started to skid in different directions; he needed to pull it back to focus on the task at hand. To get out of here in one piece. He wrapped his meaty hand around the kid’s arm. It wasn’t difficult. There was nothing on it. He was all skin and bone. He gripped hard.

  He needed to use the kid.

  Jesus Christ.

  What the hell had gone wrong?