I swung the car onto the main road and accelerated, breaking the law but certain that the police would be much more concerned about what was going on at the station than my speeding, “Gonna be a couple of minutes but yes I'm driving there now.”
“Okay well, John, I know you are going to be rather pissed off with me for this but it is for your own safety. Since you haven't tried to get in contact with me over it I take it that you have not opened the present I left for you.”
Instinctively I shook my head, “No, I've been rather busy, mate.”
The spook coughed down the phone before speaking, “As I said it is for your own safety,” once again he coughed and the sheepishly said, “It's a gun.”
His words took me surprise to the point where I nearly veered the car into oncoming traffic, “It’s what?”
“I procured you some protection. Don’t worry, I’ve ensured that it is untraceable and fully loaded.”
“Rich, you bloody mad man, I’ve been driving round with an armed weapon in my car for the past couple of days. What if someone had broken into my glove compartment? What if I had been pulled over by the police?”
“Don’t worry, I would have sorted all of that out if it had come to it, mate,” Rich said in a nonchalant manner that did nothing to improve my demeanor. I didn’t doubt the man could do it, hell he had managed to find a gun for me on short notice, but at times he just didn’t think like regular people.
I took a deep breath before replying, “Right, well there is nothing I can do about that now then is there? So tell me what you got me?”
“Browning Hi-Power just like you used in Ireland. I went with something you would be familiar with and they’re phasing the weapon out of service completely so it wasn’t too difficult getting my hands on one. Thirteen round magazine which should be enough for most problems you face.”
“So what you are telling me is that you anticipated me being in a shootout?”
“After our little joyride to the Lake District, mate, I just wanted you to be prepared. I was a Cub Scout after all.”
Again I shook my head at the man but could not help smiling, “Look mate, I have no intention of carrying a gun. You know I can shoot one but I’m not going to go in to a situation were I can end up being arrested for having it on my person, or even worse get accidentally shot because I just happened to have one in my hand.”
The line went quiet for a second and then there was a deafening series of bursts from an automatic weapon, which severely hurt my ear. I went to remove the earpiece when Rich replied, “Sorry about that. I just want you to have it for safety, mate, better to have one and not use it than not have one and need it.”
There was logic in what he said so I was left shrugging as I turned down a street and passed a sign that said I was entering Elsworth, “Look Rich I’m getting close to the police station. Thanks for the help.”
“Take the gun with you, John; I’ll clear up any problems I can if you get in trouble. I’ll try and stay in touch for the next couple of hours but, as you probably heard, I’m a little busy myself,” he punctuated that with another burst of machine gun fire. It was very intriguing whatever he was up to but I had to focus more on what dangers I was about to enter than his worries.
“Okay I will, you just keep your head down and I’ll try to do the same on my end,” I was immediately held to my word as my car was fired upon. I’d been driving past a set of playing fields on my left and saw a parked police car with two officers behind it when a bullet struck the bonnet of my car. I turned sharply to the right and slammed on the brakes before I felt another thud hit the car bodywork. I vaguely remember Rich shouting something down the phone at me but I’d opened my door and was behind the wheel before the car had come to a complete stop, “Going to have to call you back, mate. Things just got a little busy for me as well.”
Chapter Fifty Three
The shots stopped nearly as soon as I got out of the car. It didn’t take me long to realise that I was not being specifically targeted, which was a blessing considering the accuracy I had seen from the shooter up to that point. Part of me was a little offended that I wasn’t deemed worthy enough of being attacked but once I deduced that the shots were random, this thought disappeared from my mind. With that realization I dived back into the car and pulled out the parcel from the glove compartment.
Ripping it open, I revealed a small dull grey handgun. I recognized it immediately from my time in Ireland. The Browning, or L9A1 as it was designated in the Army, had been around since before the Second World War and was durable and reliable. I’d fired a number of them on the practice range when I was younger and had even carried one on a couple of assignments. Rich was right to go with something I would be comfortable with and having come under gunfire upon arriving at the scene I was feeling happier with its presence. Before anyone could see, I hid it in the waistband of my black trousers beneath my suit jacket and longer charcoal grey coat.
The two police officers huddled behind their car shouted to me to stay down but I ran over to them nimbly jumping over some metal and glass that lay in the road, “What the hell do you think you are doing?” asked a red headed mustachioed copper.
“No idea, just ran into some gunfire, as you do,” I said as glibly as I could, I also flashed my police badge at them briefly, “DI Harper, what’s the situation?”
It took them a second to gather themselves and neither one of them called me out on being retired, not that they would necessarily know that since I didn’t work in Merseyside, “We were responding to the emergency call from the van when we came under fire. Next second the tires went out on the car. It was a double whammy. We’ve been behind here ever since, sir,” the other officer, a younger man, rattled off with fear evident in his voice and eyes.
“Any idea where the shooter is?”
“Last we heard the chopper had a heat signature on the roof and then another closer to the station. To be honest things got a little confusing when the tires went and the bullets started hitting the car,” said the experienced officer.
I looked at the tires on the front of the police car and noticed how they were shredded. Stuck inside the nearest one was a series of small metal objects. Pulling one out of the tire I held it up to see the sharpened edges of what appeared to be a number of nails fused together. The younger officer intently watched what I was doing and asked “What are those?”
A snort of laughter escaped me as I looked back towards my car and realized my good fortune. The detritus I had leapt over earlier made more sense now, “This guy is bloody clever. These are homemade caltrops, not that I can imagine you can buy them in stores these days.”
“Cal whats?”
“Caltrops they’ve been used for hundreds of years to hinder movement on the battlefield,” answered the ginger man, “Could hobble a horse or in our case, Hiddleston, the tires on our car.”
Nodding I pointed at the others still on the road, “He made his own set of stinger lines with these. You can see a couple of them taped together plus others scattered across the road. Makes it bloody difficult for us to get anyone down the road to help. Also means that we are pinned so he can keep us in his target range.”
“So what are we going to do now then?” another question from Hiddleston.
I took my phone out of my pocket and switched on the camera, I pressed one button and then held the screen up above the car bonnet and slowly scanned around, occasionally taking photos, “Sorry I just wanted to have a quick look. I can’t see down the street because of the smoke but that fire doesn’t look like it will last much longer. There's no movement or sign of him but just because he didn't shoot this thing out of my hand, doesn't mean he's not looking at us.”
“We’ve got to get to the station or the van. Our people are hurt out there, the last report was not good,” the older constable said.
“Listen to me, there is a trained long distance serial killer out there so we need to be clever about this. If anyone is g
oing out there they have to take cover. I’d suggest waiting for the armed response. I'm sure the gold commander has taken charge by now. However if you are insistent on going to their aid, I'd move through the trees,” I said, pointing towards them, “Go further back down the road, try and use the houses for cover and then go across the park.”
The less experienced officer looked towards my car before asking, “Why, where are you going?”
“The gunman is down that road somewhere. If I can give you guys a better idea of where he is then it will help the armed response unit. I look like a civilian, hopefully that will be enough to stop him pulling the trigger on me. If one of you can give me a radio, I’ll try and locate the sniper.”
The two men nodded slowly but before we could move we were forced to the ground as a deafening explosion ripped through the air. A plume of fire and smoke rose from behind the trees close to the station.
“Oh my God, the station. I’ve got to get across there,” PC Hiddleston said as he stood up and ran towards the explosion only to trip and then a gun shot rang out.
The two incidents were so close together that if I hadn’t looked up trying to stop him I would have said he was shot down to the ground. Instead I saw his leg catch on piece of wire and a muzzle flash from the shadows cast by the trees. He lay on the ground and screamed in pain holding his leg.
The other officer shouted out, “Tim!” as he went to run across the road but I held him back.
“Stay here, there’s a tripwire across the road and there might be more traps. I’ll go cut it and you grab Hiddleston, get him to the treeline.”
“Okay, be quick, he looks hurt.”
I nodded and rolled my way across towards the car boot. The ginger officer gave me his radio which I clipped to me belt before running out across the pavement and leaping over a garden wall.
I lay flat on thankfully wet grass, since I made the jump not knowing what my landing surface would be. I took a second to catch my breath and caught sight of a family in the window to my left. Waving my hand at them to get down and away to safety I stood and vaulted a waist high wooden fence. I landed in a crouch this time on a frozen flowerbed before running low to the next fence. It would offer me no protection from a sniper’s bullet but hopefully it would keep me out of his line of sight long enough. Moving across to the gate I gingerly opened it and swung it inwards. I scurried across to the lamppost and with my trusty knife gently cut the wire without putting tension on line. Rolling back into the garden I put my back to the fence and called out, “Get him out of there.”
With the worry of the sniper I didn’t want to reveal my location again just for a better view but I could see the police officer run towards his friend through the opening of the gate. They were out of my line of sight but I could hear their groans and a yelp of pain from Hiddleston as the police struggled across road.
It was a terrible thing to think but since they were moving they presented a distraction in the form of an easy target so I went over to the petrol station wall and put my back to it. I watched Hiddleston and his partner disappear into the trees. It allowed me a sigh of relief that they were relatively safe if the gunman had not stayed within the wooded area. My opinion was that he had moved back across the road because I very much doubted he would have wanted to be close to whatever had exploded. The problem was that I now had to find wherever he was hiding before he hurt anyone else.
Chapter Fifty Four
The reports of two heat signatures was conflicting with the previous attacks, although it would explain why there had been a change from shooting just drug dealers to murder of Megan Reed and Craig Tunney, the two civilians. Since my only lead was the roof of the petrol station, I thought I could finally get a drop on the man; hopefully the sniper had not seen my mad dash for cover. To my left hand side there was a new silver ladder; it stood out and was the only obvious access to the flat rooftop. Aware that the shooter could be waiting for me at the top, I pulled my leather gloves tight and took out the pistol from the small of my back before slowly climbed, hoping to be as silent as possible on the creaking metal.
Just before the edge of the roof, I took a quick photo with my phone to see if there was anyone on the roof, modern technology providing me with a handy periscope. Even in the low light of the fading winter’s day I could make out the mound that looked suspiciously like a man lying down in the prone shooting position. If I was quiet enough I could sneak up on the man, however with the tricks the shooter had shown so far I doubted that it would be that easy.
I put my hand on the loose gravel and slowly came to my feet. I remained in a low crouch with my hands raised, the pistol in a firm grip. Stalking forward, I saw the long barrel of a rifle from underneath a camouflage net.
My movements were surprisingly silent even to myself and I got close enough to put the pistol to the back of the person’s body, “Remove your finger from the trigger and then place both of your hands on the ground at your side.”
There was no movement so I jabbed my gun into the man again but this time it sank deeper than I expected. With my left hand I pulled the netting clear to reveal a long rifle bag which was open and filled with pillows and small hand warmer bags, their bright orange colour contrasting with the white of the pillows, “Crap.”
I also briefly noticed a thin wire of high tension metal, which was enough for me to dive clear to the side. Thankfully it wasn't the most deadly of explosives; it was a flashbang, a weapon designed to disorientate the senses with a blinding flash of light and a loud detonation. My luck only went so far as I was nearly completely deafened by the explosion. I'd covered my eyes which saved me as much as possible, luckily because I was aware of what was going on I rolled to the side enough to miss getting hit by a rifle bullet. I was up as fast as possible and although disorientated, I managed to place my pistol back where I had been carrying it as I sprinted for the ladder.
Feeling my coat whip around my legs I dived across the ground grabbing the two ends of the ladder and sliding my chest on the gravel. The impact knocked the wind out of me which was a good thing since I didn't have the breath to yell as the ladder pitched forwards over balancing and went crashing towards the house next to the petrol station. There was a split second where I thought my hands were too high up the ladder and would be crushed before the ladder slipped backwards. The plastic feet of the climbing apparatus slid back till it hit the base of the petrol station wall and I was left dangling above the ground as the ladder was propped between two buildings.
Since it wasn't the sturdiest of platforms to be resting on I took the briefest of moments to catch my breath before rolling off the metal frame and landing heavily on the pavement below. I sat there for a good minute and tried to collect my senses. My balance was off and although I had covered my head, my vision was not completely clear. The worst of my symptoms was the deafness, the explosion was well over one hundred and fifty decibels and made sure I would have the ringing in my ears and problems with hearing for the rest of the night. It had also affected my balance which was probably one on the reasons I managed to avoid getting shot on the roof since although I was sprinting, it was not necessarily in a straight line. All it took was one look at my coat to realise that the whipping sensation I had felt was not due to my speed across the rooftop but a bullet that had left a sizable hole in the material.
This sniper was planning everything out to a fine degree. Everything he had planned was to hinder help or create more targets. However the fact he had not used high explosives or even a grenade for the rooftop decoy suggested that maybe his weapon supplies were limited somewhat. I was trying to understand the logic in just incapacitating someone to then open fire. It did not seem the best use of his resources nor was it, in my opinion, what someone trained to kill for a living would do. I also felt that although there had been some obvious planning on behalf of the sniper, if he was more experienced then he would not have assaulted the police station. It would be much easier picking off individu
al targets around the area than making a statement like this.
That was what it was though, a statement, something that would be played on television for the world to see. No doubt there would be press helicopters racing to the scene as I sat there, brushing gravel off my jacket and gingerly touching the grazes on my chest and thighs. I still didn't feel like he wanted to be recorded for the world to see, but what was the end scenario to this? The likelihood was simply that the armed response team would move in trap him and he would either go down shooting or turn the gun on himself. I didn't really want to see another suicide by cop.
However all this planning, and everything that aimed to delay or hinder capture, suggested that the man had a way out, that he had a plan. If he intended to drop off the radar then he would have to fake his death or at least hinder an investigation long enough to disappear. Problem for him was that he had shown himself tonight and from the gunfire directed at me it suggested that he was still in the area. So the only thing I could do was stop him before he managed to blend back into the shadows or focus the case on someone else.
Chapter Fifty Five
The shooter ran across the road and out of sight of the police. He stayed close to the fire and for a moment worried about the heat and his own flammability even though he knew the likelihood of any petrol being on him was non-existent. After pouring the flammable liquid in the morning, throwing his rifle bag complete with rifle onto the roof of the dilapidated petrol and placing the wire on the lamppost as well as dropping off the homemade bomb complete with fireworks up the road, he had walked home. The time allowed him some thought on his actions and did little to change his mind about what he was going to do.
Once in his home he had burnt the clothes he had worn in a garbage can in the back garden as well as the handmade maps he had made of the area and any plans he had formulated, even the ones that he had discarded from use. He then showered again and once more shaved. He doubted that there would be any DNA evidence that could be used against him but he would rather not take the chance. However even if he did leave some, he was certain there were no records of him on any database and he would not be volunteering a sample anytime soon.
A Shot In The Night (John Harper Series Book 2) Page 23
