“Whatever it is, Rach, don’t worry. I’m not going to laugh, I promise.”
She believed him. “I’ve only been with my husband. We met at school. We married when I was twenty. He had his career, I had mine. So, I haven’t had much experience with, you know, other men? Oh, and a guy called Billy. That’s it.”
Walker wiped his brow with the back of his hand. “Is that it? Phew! I thought you were going to say something serious. None of this bothers me. We can take this as fast or slow as you like. You’re in charge, okay?”
When he started unbuttoning her jeans, she wanted to run, but stayed, as he gently tugged them down. He stood and pulled her T-shirt over her head, leaving her in just her bra and knickers. It was erotic, sensual, having him feast his eyes on her.
“You are beautiful.”
Calling her Rachel compounded her desire for him. Even her ex-husband called her Miller. The only people who ever called her Rachel were her parents, and only because they named her. From primary school up, she was always Miller.
“And you’re not the only one with a confession.” He sat her down on the sofa and started to undress himself. Walker took off his vest and fumbled with his trainers, then his jeans, sliding them off and dropping them on the carpet.
Miller waited with anticipation. “So? What’s your confession?” Everything was perfect so far. His back was so muscular, she ran her hand over his glutes and delts. Everything about him was perfect.
“A few years ago I got stuck up Annapurna with my climbing crew for three days and nights.” He took his left sock off. “We all suffered from severe hypothermia.” When he took his right sock off, there they were: artificial toes. “I think I got off lightly; a quarter of all climbers die on that mountain.”
She leaned over and took a closer look. “Oh man, they’re so realistic.”
Walker took off his toes and handed them to her, leaving the residual limb on the carpet. “The NHS wouldn’t pay for them, so my parents and I stumped up the cash. Two friends of mine lost fingers.”
Handing them back, Miller waited for him to put his toes back on, stood, and held out her hand. “Shall we go somewhere more comfortable?”
Walker took no time in kissing her, holding her buttocks in his hands. Mostly naked already, Miller sat on the edge of the bed. She felt every kiss, every lick, loving his unfamiliar touch.
Day 2
Wednesday, June 13th
14
Specialist Firearms Command (SCO19) officer Luke Walker had hated his name since primary school age, since being introduced to his very nearly namesake Luke Skywalker of Star Wars fame. His parents were avid fans of the space saga, so when his dad had the chance to name him, what other name could he choose when his surname was Walker?
Lying in Miller’s bed, stroking her back, Walker stared at the digital display from her alarm clock on the ceiling. 03:16. He needed sleep, but he was too excited. He’d tried to find the courage to speak to her for ages. Their paths had crossed briefly on duty when his unit were asked to raid one of Helsey’s crew’s homes. But he only managed to introduce himself.
The previous night at the gym was fortuitous. He would have found a reason eventually to talk to her, and he thought he made a good impression the night he and his unit went to apprehend Helsey, although Miller ended up in a tussle with their target. He thought she had to be the bravest woman he’d ever met. And she was in good company, partnered with Amanda Hayes, a legend everyone knew had balls of steel.
His mobile phone buzzed next to him. Reaching across to the bedside cabinet, he picked it up: work. Without hesitation, he sat up and answered it with the words, “Be right there”, flung his legs over the edge of the bed and proceeded to put his toes on.
Miller stirred next to him. “I’ve got to go. No rest for the wicked and all that.” Locating his boxers, he stooped down and put them on. He stood and stared down at her lovely face. She smiled up at him, mostly covered in a sheet. “Can I call you later?” He straddled the bed and kissed her.
With the clock ticking, he tried to tear himself away, but she kissed him deeper each time he threatened to leave. “I’ve really got to go.” Miller pouted as he walked away. At the door, he ran back to her for one last kiss.
The drive to the station took no time so early in the morning. He pulled up in a space close to the reception doors as a couple of his unit arrived. Zuccari, a British-born Italian, met him at his car.
“How’d it go with Miller?” Zuccari held a knowing smirk.
“That’s my business, mate.” Walker closed the door and walked towards reception. “Do we know why we’ve been called in?”
“Come on, man, don’t try ducking the question, how’d it go?” Zuccari made gestures with his hand that made him smile. “Hey, Vodka, Luke’s trying to dodge the question. He asked Miller out last night. I saw you talking to her at her car, mate. Spill.”
Vodicka, nicknamed Vodka, or Voddy for obvious reasons, marched up to him. “Spill the beans, Walker. She as good as I imagine she is?” She opened the door and marched through reception, using her card to access the security gate. “Well? Don’t be a pussy, come on!”
“Fuck you guys.” He swiped his card and the gate opened. “I’m not telling you shit. What’s the matter, Voddy, you not getting enough pussy of your own? And Zuccari, you’re not that hard up, are you? You sad git!”
Laughing with his colleagues and friends, he marched into the locker room and started getting changed into his combat gear. Their sarge strode in, hurrying them up. Walker noted his tone, and judging by the early morning wake-up call, this was big. “Does anyone know what’s going on?”
The rest of his unit shook their heads as they geared up. Wearing his bulletproof vest, shirt, black khaki trousers, tough black boots and cap, he was ready for action. In the lock-up, he and his colleagues signed out their weapons, their Glock 17 pistols and HK MP5 carbines, and marched to the garage at the rear of the station.
Their sergeant stood in front of their vehicles. “Listen up, people.”
Walker figured it must be urgent for the briefing to take place in the garage, instead of upstairs in one of the briefing rooms. He listened to the sarge explain that they were being tasked with raiding a warehouse. It was part of a wider operation. “So, take no chances with these scumbags, understood? Stay alert, but if one of these bastards opens fire, you do what you need to.”
The sergeant and two more of his team got in the BMW 530d, their Armed Response Vehicle (ARV), which would be their unit’s lead car, while Walker sat in the driver’s seat of their BMW X5 Xdrive 30d. In the top left and right corners of both front windscreens were yellow circular stickers, identifying their vehicle as armed.
As part of his ongoing CPD, Walker had taken additional driving lessons, which taught him emergency manoeuvres, as well as specialist weapons training. There were few weapons he wasn’t qualified to use during deployment. “Here we go!” He pulled out of the garage after the sergeant’s BMW, their lights flashing.
Vodicka leaned in between him and Zuccari. “Man, I love this fucking job.”
“Voddy, you know the rules: strap yourself in.” He chided her playfully, never wanting to take her on physically. Vodicka may be a woman, but she was tough as they came, and could probably take Miller out in a ring. Czech women were notoriously tough, in his experience, and he’d dated two through Vodicka.
After she strapped herself in, Walker drove the car behind the sergeant all the way there, pulling up behind him on a side road, the warehouse just down the street.
Getting out, he checked his weapons.
Walker took his half of the unit to meet the sergeant and the others in front of their BMW. “How do you want to play this, Sarge?”
Their sergeant explained their assault formation. Three groups of two; one left, one right, one central to the rear. They waited for a full ten minutes in position. The sarge had to receive the green light from his superior, some commissioner.
15
Charlotte Edwards lay next to her husband, unable to sleep. It appeared Samuel wasn’t asleep either, judging by his fidgeting. The girls would be asleep at four in the morning, which was where Charlotte would like to be. She sighed. “Stop fidgeting!” Her voice barely a whisper, it failed to register a reaction from the lump next to her.
She couldn’t get Henry or Richard out of her mind. The way her brother had abruptly ended his conversation with Henry made her suspicious. Richard made it sound like he was discussing his work with their younger brother’s husband. But why?
What could Henry, a radio station owner, have to do with Richard’s business? Her brother was an engineer, a brilliant one at that; he was well-respected in the engineering community, according to him anyway. So, why would he discuss business with Henry?
When she’d tried to illicit a response, Richard clammed up. What didn’t he want her to know? These questions ran around her mind all night, and into the early hours.
“You awake?” Samuel’s whisper disturbed her thoughts.
“Yeah, you?” Silly question. Of course he was awake.
“You thinking about Colin?” He turned onto his back and held his arm out for her. “I am. I can’t believe he’s gone.”
Lying next to him, her chin on his chest, leg entwined with his, she stroked his stomach, feeling the ridges of his abs. “Yeah, I can’t believe it either. Poor Colin.”
A silence settled between them.
“It’s not just Colin you’re thinking about, though, is it?” Samuel glanced at her. “Come on, what’s up? Your cogs are turning; I can practically hear them. Unload on me.”
She wondered for a few seconds whether or not to tell him. “It’s Richard. I walked in on him trying to talk to Henry earlier, and he balked when I walked in. He sat back in his armchair and cut the conversation off, just like that.”
“So? So what?” Samuel stared at her. “I don’t mean to sound harsh, honey, but he probably doesn’t want you hearing about his work. What’s wrong with that?”
Charlotte put her cheek on his chest again. “No, I get that, I do. But it was the way he did it. Like he was scared of me listening in, or something. I don’t know, you had to be there, I guess.”
Her husband stroked her back. “What do you want me to say here? Your brother’s a secretive prick? And he is, as well as stuck-up. But I wouldn’t lose sleep over it, Lottie. We’ve got bigger things to worry about right now.”
They did. Knowing Henry, he would need help with planning the funeral, whenever that would be. Her brother’s body wouldn’t be released for a while, as was standard with a murder enquiry. “I know. We need to look after Henry. He’s the one I’m most concerned about.”
When Samuel didn’t answer her, Charlotte lifted her head and looked at him. Samuel had frown marks. “Sam? What is it?” He didn’t answer for a few seconds.
“Nothing. Don’t worry about it.” He took his arm away from her and sat up.
“It’s not nothing, though, is it? I can see it in your face. What is it?”
“Oh, it’s probably nothing.”
“But?”
“But Richard turned up one day, when I went to visit Colin and Henry at the radio station.” Samuel stared up, like he was trying to recall an image. “I remember now because he looked shifty, and when he saw me, he wouldn’t look me in the eye. When I asked Henry what Richard was doing here, he just shrugged and said Richard wanted a word with Colin about something. But his face gave him away. Henry was shifty, too, come to think of it. He ushered me out shortly after Richard arrived.”
“And you’re telling me this now, why?” She sat up and glared at him.
Samuel got up and put on a pair of boxers. “I didn’t think anything of it back then. Why would I? Your brothers are odd at the best of times. It didn’t strike me as all that strange then, but now you mention Richard acting all suspicious.”
“And Henry didn’t give you anything else to go on? Nothing at all?”
“No, nothing, I swear.” He mounted the bed and sat facing her. “I just remember the desperation in his eyes. Richard never looks desperate to me; he has too much self-respect for that, but he did that evening.”
“Wait! When was this? When did you go to the radio station?”
“A few months ago, maybe. Nine, yeah, eight or nine months ago.”
Charlotte was pretty speechless. The way Samuel described her older brother didn’t sit right with her. Richard wouldn’t behave like that.
The mystery thickened. Richard didn’t look shady yesterday; he seemed more frightened than anything. “I wonder what he was doing there?”
Samuel sat thinking. “You don’t think they’re in business together somehow?”
“Who? Richard and Colin?” Charlotte smiled. “I think that’s the stupidest thing I’ve ever heard you say. How? Why? Richard wouldn’t go into business with Colin, ever.”
“But what about Henry? He’s savvy. He’s smart.”
“You’re right, he is, but I can’t see it, can you? He’s got a radio station. How would Richard’s and Henry’s business interests cross?” Her husband’s question did make her think. She would study the two of them later.
16
“Get down, get down, now!” Walker surged through the warehouse with his carbine pointed at the night workers, who raised their hands and turned to face him, shaken. The noise of taking the metal shutters off their rollers was enough to startle them. “Did you hear me? I said, get on your fronts, now! Knees first, hands behind your backs and lie on your bellies. Do it, now!”
All six young lads in their late teens and early twenties complied, first getting on their knees, then lying face down on the concrete floor. His colleagues joined him in scaring the drug dealers. They cuffed the youngsters.
“Let’s spread out. These are just the cannon fodder, the generals are still around, somewhere.” The Sarge pointed to his left for Walker.
The warehouse was huge. From the outside, it seemed small, but like the Tardis, opened up internally. The building went back a fair way. Walker, carbine in hand, finger on the trigger and adrenaline peaking, made his way slowly towards some floor-to-ceiling shelving units. The generals could be hiding anywhere.
Having Vodicka with him made Walker feel secure. She was his rock. If he had to choose anyone to go into combat with, he would choose her. Not only was she a skilled marksman – or woman – she also had a black belt in Ju Jitsu, and a brown belt in kickboxing. He signalled for her to take the left while he took the right.
With his nerves heightened, he checked the aisles, crouching to check beneath the lowest shelves. “Clear!” He received the all-clear from Vodicka and the Sarge. “Zuccari, talk to me!”
He turned and ran back to the main factory floor at the sound of raised voices. He stopped when a gunshot echoed through the warehouse.
When he reached the table in the middle of the warehouse, he saw his friend stood over a body.
“It was a clean shoot.” Zuccari held his hands up, his carbine on the floor, as was policy after a shot was fired. “He had a pistol in his hand, look.”
The rest of his unit sounded off after checking the large room. Walker couldn’t believe these youngsters were the only ones here, except the dead general. Sarge took Zuccari away, while Walker and the rest of his squad made the area safe.
Once the dealers were squared away, he made a note of the inventory. The table in the middle of the room held enough cocaine to put these men away for a long time. They were dealing in kilos, not grams. Two had possessed firearms as well, so this haul was worth their effort.
“Hey, Walker, what’s going to happen to Zuccari now?”
“You know what’s going to happen, Voddy.” Every SCO19 officer
knew what happened as soon as a firearm was discharged, regardless of fatalities. “He’ll be relieved of duty, pending an investigation by the IOPC. If he’s found to have acted lawfully, he’ll be allowed back to work, if he passes his psych evaluation. Come on, you don’t need me to tell you this. You know it.”
“I just think it’s really shitty that we get questioned as soon as we fire a gun.”
“I agree, but it is what it is. We signed up to the scrutiny as soon as we took on the job. We’re not in the States, don’t forget. And Zuccari did shoot this guy in the head.”
When they went on patrol, Walker drove, Zuccari navigated, while Vodicka worked as communications operator.
His comms operator turned and walked back towards the car park. A SOCO crew arrived and started their role documenting everything. A coroner was en route to process the dead general. Walker started after Vodicka.
17
Richard Fisher opened the door to his workshop, slipped inside and closed it. He peered through the glass, checking no one was behind him. Locking himself inside, he turned the main lights on and they flickered to life, his little blue Fiesta sat in the centre of the room.
He walked up the metal stairs to his office, where he switched on the light, before sitting behind his desk. His PC whirring away in the background, he clicked the mouse and the monitor sprang to life. He’d waited a long time for this email.
Four years earlier he’d applied for a patent on his revolutionary idea. Only an idea back then, it was now a reality, sitting downstairs in the middle of the workshop.
The Intellectual Property Office’s logo appeared at the top of the email. When he scrolled down, he saw the words “delighted” and “successful” and grinned. It was his, all his. Hell, it only took fifteen tests and three years to build it.
The Hard Way Page 6
