Scream Blue Murder: an action-packed thriller

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Scream Blue Murder: an action-packed thriller Page 25

by Tony J. Forder

The thought gave steel to my earlier resolve. We would rescue Charlie. No matter what the cost.

  I brought Mel to her feet. “Come on,” I whispered. “Let’s get you to a sofa and lie you down. I’ll make you a hot, sweet drink.”

  “No! We have to go after them. We have to get Charlie back.”

  “And we will. We will. I promise you. But we can’t go charging off half-cocked, Mel. Terry and I need to talk about how we’re going to handle this now. You need to calm yourself, rest up. We need you with us, Mel. We need you there for Charlie when we find her. And she’ll need you at your best.”

  But Terry was shaking his head. He stepped closer to intervene. “We have no time for that, Mike. Much of the gunfire was suppressed, but some of it wasn’t and the explosions certainly weren’t. Out here, the sound would have carried miles. Someone will have reported it. We need to be out of this place when the police eventually show up.”

  Nodding, I realised Terry was seeing things much more clearly than I was. I pictured only Mel’s grief and Charlie’s absence. He saw the larger picture. “Okay,” I said to Melissa, hands laid on her shoulders as I stared into her eyes. “Terry’s right. We need to go, and go now.”

  “Like this? The state we’re in?”

  “Hit the bathroom. Wash your face, fix your hair. We’ll do the same.” I turned to Terry. “Mate, grab a first-aid box and we’ll see to your head wound once we’re on the road. You and I will also scrub up and we could both do with a change of clothes. You must have something here to fit me. Let’s get to it. Out of here in five minutes, right?”

  I had taken charge, but it didn’t seem to faze Terry at all.

  I led Melissa with some reluctance on her part into the bathroom, where I helped her wash her face with hot water. While she scrubbed with a flannel, I used my fingers to comb through her hair as best I could. None of it would make her feel better, but we all needed to look as normal as possible once outside of the house. When I was done with her hair, I used my thumb to tenderly caress the curve of her cheek.

  “Don’t blame yourself, Mel,” I told her. “I know you will, but it’s not your fault. If it hadn’t happened this way, it would have still gone down. The truth is we were outnumbered and out-thought. Terry and I are the only ones at fault for that. We didn’t stand a chance. Know that. And when the time comes to grab Charlie back and we’re all set to act, you stand by our side. Stronger. Wiser. Ready.”

  I took my chance to wash up. I had meant every word. Terry and I were to blame. The better plan would have been to place Mel and Charlie elsewhere before taking on these men. Have them sneak away in the gathering dusk. The two men Melissa relied on for her security had got it badly wrong. I blamed myself as much for not questioning the plan as I did my friend for coming up with it in the first place. Terry had been both over-optimistic and over-confident. I’d got caught up in all the machismo and relied too heavily on his judgement. It happened. And when it did there were always casualties. On this occasion, that victim was a child.

  My baggage.

  Seconds later, I shepherded Mel back out into the passageway. It still reeked of gunpowder, blood and bodily fluids. Unmistakable to anyone who had ever smelled the combination before. Both of my victims lay where they had fallen. Gaping holes decorated the walls. I kept Mel’s head down, told her not to look at the bodies. Headshots had made their faces unrecognisable as such, their gaping, ugly wounds so much more disturbing than TV or movies could ever portray.

  Terry found us and handed me a crew-neck T-shirt. “You’ll never fit into the trousers so let’s not even attempt it,” he said. “Brush yours down, sponge off any blood if you have to.”

  I went to change and finish making myself presentable. I caught sight of myself in the mirror and was shocked by the ravages just a couple of days had wrought upon me. When I was done I collected Mel’s shoulder bag and Charlie’s little pink backpack, scooping up her various devices. There was no doubt in my mind that she would need them again.

  Outside the house, I paused. The Range Rover was shot to pieces, the breach unit having disabled it in case anyone tried to make good their escape. The same treatment had been dealt out to the Land Rover on the other side of the river. I heard Terry jogging up behind me. I turned, noting that my friend had rubbed away the grime, blood and facial camouflage.

  “The motor’s fucked,” I said. I hoped I had held back my rising swell of panic.

  Terry brushed by me without a word, jerking his head towards the stone and wood barn to our left. Mel and I followed him across the uneven gravel, through the long grass. He heaved the barn doors open, stepped inside. A hoist allowed a set of chains to be attached to a large expanse of tarpaulin which covered a bulky shape. A few tugs on the hoist’s handle and an old Toyota 4x4 Hilux flatbed truck was revealed. It was dark green, dappled with rust, but its front bull bars gave it a sturdy feel.

  “The man is always prepared for any eventuality,” I said, smiling and hoping to lighten the mood a little.

  “I hope so,” Melissa said, looking at me. “We’re going to need him to be.”

  “Doors are unlocked,” Terry said. “Jump in the back and buckle up, Mel. Lie down across the seat. It’s best if you’re not seen. Mike, you’re riding shotgun.”

  I read his face. It looked drawn, pale. He had made mistakes. More than usual, and they had been costly. He was hurting in more ways than one. “You okay to drive? You left some blood back there, mate.”

  “I’m good to go,” Terry insisted. “Let’s get out of here.”

  “You think she was in on it after all?” Terry asked. We had escaped unobserved from the farmhouse as far as any of us could tell. Had travelled hardly any distance at all before he pulled off the winding road and found a spot to conceal the truck behind a grove of mature silver birch. The three of us sat for some time in silence, quietly absorbing all that we had experienced. We were alone when he asked the question, Melissa having remained draped out across the backseat of the Toyota whilst Terry and I exited the vehicle. The early hour still held some warmth from the day’s sunshine.

  I shook my head at the question. It needed asking, and I had considered it on several occasions since first suggesting her culpability. But I was now convinced that Melissa had not been acting back in the house. She had not betrayed Charlie. The poor woman was utterly devastated.

  “She made a mistake is all,” I said. “For the best of reasons, even if they were naïve. She picked up a gun with the intention of using it, and my guess is she’s never so much as held one before. She left Charlie on her own, which must have been an agonising decision to make. Mel came looking to help us, Terry. It just went to shit.”

  He spent some time chewing that over. Finally, he nodded. “Agreed. Fact is, if she’d stayed put she’d probably be dead right now. I fucked up. That’s the bottom line. This is on me. I misjudged these people, Mike. Underestimated them. I knew they were professional, knew they had to be a unit to respect. Despite that I thought I could take them down sorry, that we could take them down. I was over-confident in the successful outcome of the plan. A plan that never once made allowances for one of their own. My fault. Not yours, and certainly not hers.”

  “We agreed the plan together, Terry.”

  “No. You agreed to agree. There’s a difference. You deferred to my greater experience. You weren’t happy with it, you told me so, but I didn’t listen. You’ve been out of the game for a long time, I’m still up to my neck in it. I thought I knew best. Clearly I didn’t.”

  I raised both hands. “There will be plenty of time for blame and self-recrimination later. Right now, we need to focus on getting that kid back.”

  He hung his head; the first time I had seen him looking defeated. “This fuck-up will perhaps have cost me your trust. Certainly, Melissa’s trust. I now even doubt myself.”

  “Well snap the hell out of it.” I met his gaze with a stern one of my own. “This is not the time for self-pity, mate. You’re still
the best bet we’ve got. We can all work together, but you’re our go-to stormtrooper, Terry. Make no mistake about that.”

  This brought a vague smile to his face. “Okay. I hear you. So, let’s make those plans.”

  I nodded. “Beginning with, how do we even begin to get Charlie back?”

  I could not recall the last time I had felt so emotionally drained. Today I had killed men, watched others fall to my friend. A child our child at the time, under our protection had been abducted right from beneath our noses. I did not know what to do with that information and the emotions it brought with it, in which direction to turn. I looked to my friend for answers.

  “Right now, I don’t honestly know,” Terry replied. “But we’ll figure it out. I think we may just need to take a step back for a moment, wipe the slate clean in our minds. I suspect we’re both sort of numb, and we need to be sharp.”

  “Yeah, no shit. We don’t know where to look, we don’t know who to look for.”

  “I’m beginning to get a feeling for these people, Mike. We can forget about it being related to the police, NCA, whoever. This Hendricks character was probably always intended to be the fall-guy. A pawn. As for the sniper back in Chippenham, what we went through this morning and now tonight, we’re looking at them being the genuine article. No weekend warriors, Mike. Pros. Ex-forces, perhaps even current, looking for some moonlighting paydays no questions asked.”

  I regarded him closely. “Men like you,” I said. To me this day had been a nightmare, death and destruction playing a looped spool of film in my mind. To Terry, this was just another day at the office.

  Nodding, he said, “Yes. Men like me.” I wasn’t sure, but I thought I detected a note of regret in his voice.

  I asked Terry who might pay for something like this, who could possibly want this bad enough. He had worked for private security forces. This was his killing field.

  Terry arched his eyebrows. “In my experience, there’s only one client I can think of in this particular situation, here in the UK, who could arrange such a hit and then have the determination to clean up after themselves with a skilled and deadly response.”

  I let out a soft whistle. “You mean government.”

  “I mean a part of it, yes. Home Office. MI5. SIS. Perhaps a combination of two or even all three. Not directly, I’m sure. Within those groups there is an awful lot of wriggle-room for the indirect, if you follow my meaning.”

  “For a gangster like Dawson?” I shook my head. “Why? What could he have over them? What sort of threat could he ever have been?”

  “I don’t know, Mike. Like you, I have far more questions than answers right now. It’s clear to me that we need to regroup. We have no trail to follow, so we need to make use of the hours before daybreak to rest and to feed ourselves. The backpack I brought with me has some bread, jam and fruit in it. Bottled water, too. We need to eat, if only for fuel. We won’t recover properly otherwise. Then we sleep. No point chasing our tails in the dead of night.”

  Although I could not imagine getting any rest, let alone the luxury and solitude of sleep, I saw the wisdom in my friend’s words. Exhaustion would overwhelm us otherwise, leaving neither of us fit to tackle the problem of getting back our baggage. I nodded. Gently slapped Terry on the back. Then the two of us made our way back to the truck.

  The next few hours were the longest I had known up until that point in my life. Terry closed his eyes often, yet I don’t believe he slept at all. Knowing the man as I did, I imagined he would be beating himself up for his role in the events that had led us here. He was not a man to dwell on mistakes, but I got the impression those he had made today would scar him. Mel slept fitfully, starting awake as if from nightmares on several occasions, only to find worse waiting for her there in the dark. I felt so helpless. All I could think about was poor Charlie, trying to imagine how terrified she must be, and coming up short. It was impossible for me to fully comprehend how vulnerable a childlike Charlie must be in such dreadful circumstances.

  I must have dozed, however fitfully, because the next time I opened my eyes a faint glow was emanating from the east.

  38

  We waited until dawn was in our rear-view mirror before we left that sheltered spot deep in the woods. Once again we did not travel far. A few miles was all we needed between us and the body-strewn battlefield we had left behind.

  “I come here when I need to think,” Terry told us. “At times when I need to clear my head.”

  “I would never have put you down as a religious man,” I said.

  “You don’t need to be in order to have this place work its magic. Spend half an hour here and you start to feel insignificant. And if you are, then so are your worries.”

  I felt as if the history of Thetford Priory carried huge weight in the space it filled and the air around it, a presence that was almost palpable. Standing there in the early morning air, enveloped by the Priory’s shadow, I understood exactly what Terry meant. I was not a man for wandering around admiring ancient architecture, but it was hard not to be drawn back in time when all around you stood the husks of buildings dating back as far as the twelfth century. It was an impressive sensation. An intimidating one, too.

  Terry swept a hand out as he continued. “This place ceased being what it was built to be almost five hundred years ago, having been a functioning and thriving religious foundation for more than four hundred years before the Reformation killed it off. Can you imagine that, either of you? Can you even begin to wrap your heads around it? Remnants of a time some nine hundred years ago, still upright. Right here in front of us now. It takes my breath away every time I come here.”

  “To be perfectly honest with you, Terry,” Melissa said dolefully, “I can’t focus on anything but Charlie right now.”

  He turned. Nodded. Did not appear to be offended. “I feel the same, Melissa. Which is precisely why I came here. To have my mind choked with the sights and sounds and smells of the warfare we experienced yesterday is no help to either of you. Or to Charlie, for that matter. I need this to… reboot myself, if you like. I value it as a form of cleansing.”

  I had to agree. “Believe me, Mel, it takes something out of the ordinary to rid your thoughts of everything you experience during a firefight like that. For me it’s anything to do with water: lakes, streams, rivers, waves. Even rain. But I can see why this place does the trick for Terry.”

  Its stone walled perimeter, ancient structures and the formidable gatehouse standing three storeys high, revealed a glimpse of the past in the way no history book can. Its status as a religious symbol was almost irrelevant to anyone who sought serenity not of the spirit, but of the mind. I never ceased to be amazed by my friend’s little foibles. I regarded this as a noble one, however.

  “I’m sorry,” Melissa said. She dug her hands deep into the pockets of her denim jacket. “I didn’t mean to belittle what you both went through back there. But I still believe I am to blame for Charlie being taken. My only job was to protect her, and now those people have exactly what they want.”

  Terry was about to answer when he froze. A ringtone was singing out. He pulled a phone from his jacket pocket. Melissa’s mobile. I glanced at him, astonished that he had left it on and in one piece rather than strip it down so that we could not be followed. He merely shrugged at the unexpected intervention, put a finger to his mouth, pressed both the receive and speaker keys at the same time.

  “Am I speaking to Mike Lynch?” the caller asked. His voice was deep, calm, London accent.

  “No,” Terry replied.

  “Ah, I see. So then, you must be the man responsible for taking out so many of my men.”

  “Must I?”

  “I think so, yes. Should I assume you left behind no wounded? Only, I was in a bit of a hurry when I got out of there, didn’t have time to stop and check what with Ray Dawson’s child wriggling and screaming in my arms.”

  “You can assume whatever you like.”

  “I see. A
man of few words, eh? In that case, I will assume you are ex-forces. I will assume you spent time in the same commando unit as Lynch. And I will assume you know the score; where things stand now.”

  “Actually,” Terry said, “why don’t you explain it to me. Just so as there are no misunderstandings.”

  “Very well. The situation couldn’t be clearer really. I have the child. I want to suggest an exchange. We want Miss Anderson and Mr Lynch. Your involvement is unnecessary. However, you could earn out of it and handle Lynch yourself for us. If not, then he must remain part of the exchange deal.”

  “I’ll be the judge of what role I play.”

  “Then do that. Why not come and work for me? You’re clearly a capable man.”

  “Yet you treat me like a child,” Terry said, his tone remaining equable. “Your mission is to clean up after the botched murder of Ray Dawson. The child, her nanny, the man your cop let get away. But I’m part of that equation now. Therefore, I have to go as well. Those will have been your orders.”

  The line was silent for a few moments. Terry let it stretch out. I looked on, fascinated by the exchange I was witnessing.

  Finally, the caller spoke once more. “I have a list here of everyone who served with Mike Lynch. I could work my way through that list until I find you.”

  Terry chuckled. “The only way you found me the first time was due to an outsider, and the only way you found me the second time was because I allowed you to.”

  “Yeah, and look at how well that turned out for you. Leaving the child alone was not such a good idea, was it.” It was not a question.

  “I admit, I screwed up. I won’t make that same mistake again.”

  “All right. Enough posturing. We both have big sweaty balls. Let’s go back to the exchange ”

  “There is no exchange. You will kill us all.”

  “It doesn’t have to be that way. I recognise the fact that I need some leverage here, so I maintain a degree of flexibility. Persuade them to give themselves up to me. What does one more victim of collateral damage matter?”

 

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