Rogers stepped forwards, gun raised as though he was going to hit him again.
“Leave him,” Conner said. “He won’t be any good to us unconscious.”
“I was only going to give him a tap, to warn him.”
“I don’t think he needs any further warnings.” Conner pushed the lad in his arms forwards. “Not if he wants his family to live.”
“If you hurt any of them, I’ll kill you. I swear to God.”
“As long as you don’t do anything stupid nobody will get hurt.”
Vaughn reached into his pocket and Rogers pointed his gun at him.
“Easy,” Vaughn said. He withdrew a piece of paper. “This was in the last cache. That’s all I have.”
Rogers snatched the piece of paper from him and read the clue out loud. “Why the hell would Armstrong warn him about us so he could escape?”
Conner shook his head. “I’ve no idea other than he’s messing with us. It’s like a game of chess to him with us as the pawns.”
“I’ll give him fuckin’ pawns if I get hold of him,” Rogers said.
Williams held his hand up. “You’ll have to get in line.”
Conner glanced around the trees. Was Armstrong out there now, watching them, laughing at their predicament? Although he couldn’t see him, he felt him; even imagined that it wasn’t the wind, but Armstrong chuckling to himself. Conner tightened his grip on the kid’s neck, making him struggle and kick until he released his hold a little, allowing him to breathe.
“Dad, Dad, what’s going on?” the kid said. Conner felt him shaking in his grip.
“Do whatever they say, Caleb.”
“That’s enough talkin’,” Rogers said. “How do we find the bloody money?”
Conner pushed the boy onto the ground, walked across and took the piece of paper off Rogers. He crouched down and laid them side by side to study them more easily:
(-7,3) (-8,3) (-9,3) (-10,3) (-10,2) (-10,1) (-10,0)(-10,-1) (-10,-2), (-10,-3) (-10,-1) (-10,-2) (-10,-3) (-9,-3) (-8,-3) (-7,-3)
(-4,-3)(-2,0) (0,3) (2,0) (4,-3)
(7,-3) (7,-2) (7,-1) (7,0) (7,1) (7,2) (7,3) (8,3) (9,3)(10,3) (10,2) (10,1) (10,0) (9,0) (8,0) (7,0) (10,-3)
“So what does the clue mean?” Rogers asked.
“I’m guessing it’s a graph of some sort.” Conner started following the instructions, and put a cross at the coordinates. Like a dot to dot picture, he connected them up and realised they formed a rough word: CAR
“Car,” Williams said. “Whose car?”
Conner stood up. “I’m guessing he means the copper’s.”
“You mean that’s where the money is?” Rogers asked.
“I don’t know,” Conner replied. “I mean, why all this when he could have told us where the money was? I’m starting to think there won’t be any gold at the end of this rainbow.”
“There fuckin’ well better be.” Rogers cocked his gun and aimed the weapon at Vaughn. “On your feet. You need to lead the way back to your car. And make it fast, because I’m getting tired of all this running around.”
Vaughn and his family stood up.
“So which way?” Conner asked.
Vaughn looked at his GPS. “We can exit this wood, another path leads to where we parked.”
“Then we’d better get a move on,” Rogers said.
CHAPTER 11
Kurt put his arm around his son’s shoulder as they walked. “How you doing?”
Caleb looked up. His pale face radiated fear. “What’s going on?”
“We’ll be okay. Trust me.” Kurt found little solace in his own words. These men had callously detonated a bomb resulting in 87 deaths, all as a smokescreen so they might escape with their ill-gotten gains; what would three more deaths matter to them? And he doubted they would let any potential witnesses who could recognise them live. But how was he going to take on three armed men, possibly four if the ringleader was out there somewhere, watching them?
He didn’t know exactly what was going on, and from the looks of things, neither did these three men. Reading between the lines, he deduced they must have hidden the money until the heat died down, and the person who had stashed the money had now set the others on the path to finding it. Obviously, a well-orchestrated plan. The ringleader must have been setting this charade up for a while, and it terrified him he had been monitored so the person could use him and his family in this sick little game.
The wind rustled the leaves overhead and rain dripped down, adding to the depressive atmosphere. Through gaps in the canopy he caught glimpses of the grey sky, a sky he had gazed at thousands of times, but never truly seen. The same went for the trees. For everything around him. Only now, when he was in grave danger, did he really start to notice things, appreciating the beauty nature provided as a backdrop to life, the canvas for everyone’s existence.
Despite himself, he felt tears welling in his eyes and he quickly wiped them away. He couldn’t show any signs of weakness in front of their captors, and above all else, he had to stay strong for Emma and Caleb. It was his fault they were in this predicament. If he hadn’t chosen to join the police force, he wouldn’t have been investigating the crimes that lead them here. He realised chastising himself wouldn’t help, but he couldn’t seem to stop. The thought of them killing his wife and son was unbearable. He would gladly lay down his own life if his sacrifice meant they would live.
Caleb was the light of his life. They only had the one child as their careers took precedence, so he got spoilt too much and too often, and he probably took advantage of the situation, but Kurt wouldn’t swap him for the world.
He heard their captors grumbling among themselves. They weren’t happy, so perhaps their discontentment might be used against them. Divide and conquer and all that. The one with the bald head seemed the most volatile, while the man who had grabbed Caleb appeared to be in charge. Kurt hadn’t got a fix on the third man as he seemed more reticent, but they were all dangerous and all armed.
If he managed to wrestle a weapon from one of the men, perhaps he would have a chance, but he didn’t want to do anything to endanger his family.
Kurt stopped to consult his GPS and the bald-headed man stormed across.
“Why’ve you stopped?”
“Just need to check we’re going the right way as the trees interfere with the signal.”
“You’d better not be fuckin’ with me.”
Kurt started walking again. Emma and Caleb followed a couple of steps behind. Emma had her arm around her son’s shoulder, hugging him so close they both kept tripping as they walked. The other two men brought up the rear.
“So what’s this all about?” Kurt asked.
The bald-headed man snorted loudly. “Getting my money back, that’s what it’s about.”
“You mean the money from the robbery.”
He glared at Kurt as though he was a little simple. “Of course the money from the robbery.”
“I guess I’d be anxious too if I’d had to wait this long to get my share of four million pounds.”
After a moment, the bald man frowned. “Two million.”
Kurt raised his eyebrows. “That’s what the news reports said, but you must have counted the money. There was four million. The theme park didn’t want to disclose the true amount.” He paused a moment. “Or didn’t your accomplices tell you? Perhaps they’re trying to rob you of your share.”
“Shut the fuck up. You’re lying.”
“Why would I lie? It’s not going to make any difference to me because it’s not my money. But you did count the cash before you let your accomplice take it away, didn’t you? ”
The man screwed his face up but didn’t reply.
“Perhaps your friends know—but then I don’t suppose they’d tell you anyway, not if they’re all involved in this together. I mean they do seem very close.”
The man spun around and pointed his gun at Kurt’s head. “If I hear one more word out of you, I swear to God ...”
; “Problem?” the man Kurt thought was the leader asked as he jogged up to them.
“He’s the problem,” the bald man replied.
“Why, what’s he done?”
“He talks too much. And we don’t need them all to show us where the car is.” The bald man glared at Kurt with an expression of pure malice. “His wife should show us. Three’s a crowd anyway.”
“Well I’m sure they’ll cooperate better if we don’t go killing any of them.”
“What’s the hold up?” the third man shouted.
“I’m sortin’ it,” the bald man said.
“Sorting what?”
“How much money are we each going to get?”
The leader shrugged. “What’s that got to do with anything?”
“Everything. That’s why we’re here.”
“You know the same as us, around five hundred thousand each.”
“So the takings were two million?”
“That’s what the papers said.”
“I’m asking you, not the papers.”
The leader frowned. “I only know what you know. Armstrong knows the exact amount.”
“Does he? Does he really?”
“What’s that mean?”
“Perhaps you counted the money too.”
“I haven’t seen the money. None of us has.”
“I guess Williams would say the same.”
“Of course he would.” The bald man stared at his companion with his eyes narrowed, then he spat on the ground. He glanced at his other accomplice. “Three’s most definitely a crowd,” he muttered before motioning Kurt and his family to proceed.
Kurt knew he had sown the seeds of doubt. Now he needed to water them.
CHAPTER 12
Armstrong trekked through the trees in his woodland camo Ghillie suit. Whenever anyone looked in his direction, he froze, blending into his surroundings. So far, everything was going according to plan and the path they took was the one he thought they would follow. The circuitous route he sent them on meant they were now closer to where they’d started. Like the initial robbery, the details were all in the planning.
His years in the army were now paying off, and he found the idea ironic—tax payers had funded his training. Training which taught him about arms and explosives. Training that made him the man he was. When he rejoined Civvy Street he hadn’t adapted well. After serving in war zones in the Middle East, a job in a factory taking orders from a prick who hadn’t travelled further than Blackpool on a stag night, meant he soon found himself on the wrong side of the law when he broke the man’s nose. He drifted from one job to another, but these didn’t last longer than a few days at most. Once, he only managed a few hours before jacking it in.
No, he wasn’t cut out for civilian life.
It had taken a while to recruit his present team after frequenting watering holes most people would be too afraid to even walk past, never mind into. Undisciplined dicks, motivated by greed, Armstrong had no time for them and he certainly didn’t trust them. They had to die. Dead men tell no tales.
CHAPTER 13
“Dad, I’m scared.”
Kurt looked at Caleb and his heart sank. He squeezed his son’s shoulder. “Just think of something nice to take your mind off things.”
“I can’t. What do they want with us?”
How could he explain what was happening without scaring him further? The sight of the guns was enough to give Caleb nightmares for life, never mind if he told him these were the men responsible for killing all those people at the theme park.
“I’m not sure.”
“Ask them.”
Kurt swallowed. “We’ll be fine as long as we do as they say.”
“Are you scared too?”
Kurt shook his head. “No, because I know everything’s going to be okay.” He hoped his son couldn’t see through the lie.
The rain grew heavier, pattering on the canopy above with unrelenting urgency. Emma walked with her head down, shoulders slumped. She sniffled. The sound broke his heart even more.
He glanced at their captors. As well as the guns, he noticed at least two of them sported knives. Big knives.
“Something wrong?” the bald man said when he saw Kurt looking at him.
“No. Everything’s great. How about you? Are you okay?”
“Of course I’m okay.”
“Well, I just thought, you know, with being ripped off by your pals you might be a little pissed.”
“Shut your mouth. Shut it before I shut it for you.”
Kurt did as the man told him. He realised pushing him too far was liable to make him snap and there was no telling what that would result in. Now he needed to work on one of the other men. But which one?
When the bald-headed man dropped back, Kurt took the opportunity to get closer to the man who appeared to be the leader. From what he overheard the men saying earlier he knew the quiet man was called Williams, and the man who had hidden the money, Armstrong.
“Your friend’s a little edgy,” Kurt said.
The leader didn’t reply.
“But I guess you’re all eager to get your hands on the money. I would be if I had a share of what your bald friend told me Armstrong has been holding for you.”
The leader’s expression remained neutral and he still didn’t respond.
“I was a little surprised when he said four million pounds though, as the theme park only reported two million was stolen.”
A crack appeared in the leader’s armour and he clenched his jaw, making a vein on his temple throb. After a moment it looked as though he was chewing on something and he narrowed his eyes and zeroed in on the bald man.
“Rogers, a word,” the leader said, motioning him across.
The bald man nodded and jogged over. The two men stepped aside and started talking. The leader gesticulated with his arms and Rogers shrugged.
Kurt glanced at his family. They huddled together as they walked. Williams remained a couple of steps behind them, but he didn’t have his weapon drawn, probably because he didn’t feel the need. The leader and Rogers stood next to a steep bank with a stream about twenty feet below. Kurt understood he had to make a decision, because once they reached the car, the men wouldn’t have any further use for him and his family.
He took a deep breath, and even though he wasn’t a religious man, he said a silent prayer, before sprinting the couple of feet and slamming his shoulder into the leader’s back. The force of the impact knocked the man off his feet, and sent him barrelling into Rogers. Both abductors flailed their arms and legs in the air as they lost their balance, in the next second they tumbled over the bank, rolling end over end, grunting as they did so.
Although having used all his strength in the attack, the leader had acted as a brake for Kurt and he teetered on the edge for a second before tearing towards Williams, who had been taken completely by surprise. Kurt rammed his palm into Williams’ nose, knocking the man’s head back. He felt a satisfying crunch as the man staggered backwards, bringing his hands to his face as blood poured from his nostrils. Next second Williams fell to the ground.
Kurt dropped down and straddled Williams. He snatched the man’s knife from the sheath on his belt and raised it in the air above the man’s chest, ready to stab down. He tried to swallow, but his dry throat constricted.
“Dad!”
Kurt turned and saw Caleb staring at him, his mouth hanging open and his eyes wide. Emma pursed her lips, her eyes moist with tears. From behind them he heard the leader and Rogers getting closer. He tightened his grip on the knife, but he hadn’t got the heart to stab him in front of his son.
A shot rang out, the bullet clipping a tree trunk as the two men scrambled over the top of the bank.
“Run!” Kurt screamed.
Spurred into action, Emma grabbed Caleb’s hand and sprinted away. Kurt glanced down at Williams, lowered the knife and ran after his family.
Behind him he heard a crack and a second later a bu
llet tore into the tree at his side, sending bark flying like shrapnel.
CHAPTER 14
Emma let out a little squeal as she stumbled, almost losing her footing. Kurt reached her side and put his arm around her waist, helping her stay upright.
“Come on,” he said, “I’ve got you.”
Caleb ran a couple of steps ahead, his little legs pumping for all they were worth.
Another bullet whined through the trees and whipped through the ferns.
“They’re shooting,” Emma said.
Kurt risked a glance back and saw Rogers firing from over the edge of the bank. Williams still lay on the ground. No sign of the leader.
He only hoped the distance between them meant Rogers’ pistol wasn’t as accurate. But they needed to increase the gap in the hope of losing them.
Ferns whipped around his legs as he urged Emma on. Where fitness was concerned, Emma left him standing as she regularly worked out at the gym and went jogging, whereas Kurt did only as much as he needed to do to maintain his health. But at the moment, it looked as though he was the fittest. Rather than spurring her on, the shock seemed to have slowed his wife down. She was breathing fast, almost hyperventilating, and he feared she would collapse if she didn’t calm down and steady her breathing.
The ground was full of tripping hazards, from roots and branches to brambles. Most of them hidden beneath the ferns, making them more dangerous, but Kurt didn’t dare slow their pace. Better to risk a twisted ankle than a bullet in the back.
“Which way?” Caleb shouted.
“Just keep going.”
They ran up a short bank carpeted with bluebells and sped down the other side. Sweat coated Kurt’s body and he felt as though he was being slowly cooked inside his raincoat. He tugged down the zip as he ran, but it didn’t provide much relief. An old tree up ahead had rotted and collapsed, its trunk lying in the ‘Y’ shaped crook of another tree. Strange shaped fungus clung to the rotted wood.
The Heist Page 4
