The Hard Way

by Duncan Brockwell

  To his left, Walker saw a mercenary take four bullets from Sarge, and collapse on the floor in a heap. Again, Walker breathed out deeply. “I’ve taken one in the arm.” He tried to stand, until his boss came and helped him up. “It’s okay, I can still hold a gun.”

  “Here, take one of their Glocks,” Sarge said, handing it to him. “The MP5’s too heavy with one arm. And stay close, I don’t know how many are left.”

  Walker compared notes with Sarge on how many they’d each taken out. He saw three bodies on the floor in the bar alone. “Do you hear that? Backup’s on the way. All we have to do is wait it out until these fuckers are surrounded.”

  “Do me a favour,” the Sarge said, nodding at the window. “Go over there and tell me what’s going on outside, would you?”

  Carrying the Glock in his good hand, he walked over to the window and stared out at the assortment of vehicles out there, from armoured vans, to his police car, the blue Fiesta and Rachel’s plain white Peugeot. “Not a lot. Looks like they’re all inside.”

  “Hey, Luke!”

  Turning round, Walker froze. Sarge, squatting in front of the mercenary he’d just shot, had the dead man’s finger on the trigger of a Glock 17, the pistol pointed at Walker.

  “Hey, what the fuck, Sarge? What’re you doing?”

  “You know this has to happen, right? You should’ve pulled the trigger, Luke. Now you’re a liability, probably thinking of how you can weasel your way out of this, huh? You see, Luke, you’re not one of us now; we can’t trust you. And I bet you told that bitch of a girlfriend of yours upstairs, didn’t you? Shame, you were one of the best cops I’ve ever worked with.”

  Panic set in. Strangely, he wasn’t as concerned for himself as he thought he would be. The only person on his mind at that moment was Rachel. By the narrowing of the Sarge’s eyes, he intended to go ahead. “Rachel! It’s a trap!”

  The last thing Luke Walker saw was the muzzle flash of Sarge’s pistol.

  74

  “Rachel! It’s a trap!”

  Miller stopped. What was Luke talking about? She didn’t like the way she heard a gunshot immediately after he’d shouted it. “Luke! Speak to me, Luke!” she yelled down the stairs. His voice came from the ground floor; or at least she thought it had. Nothing. Taking the stairs one at a time, the carbine in her hands, all she wanted was to see his beautiful face.

  With Marlowe behind her, she found herself on the ground floor, turned to her right and saw the bar door was open. Figuring it was the best place to search for Luke, she stepped inside. “Luke?”

  At the front of the room, in front of the window, she saw Sarge cradling her Luke, who was covered in blood. The net curtains were red. Miller screamed, then rushed over to them. Without waiting for Luke’s superior to get out of her way, she took over cradling her dead boyfriend, tears streaming down her cheeks.

  In the distance, sirens wailed. Miller didn’t care; she’d lost the one good thing in her life. She’d only been going out with him for a short time, but knew she loved him. Luke was perfect for her, and now he was dead.

  “Miller! Look out!” Marlowe shouted.

  Staring up, she was shocked to find Sarge pointing a pistol at her.

  Tears stung her eyes, and a lump strangled her. “You? You shot Luke?”

  In hindsight, she should have known, but considering there were mercenaries paid to execute them in the building, she hadn’t expected this. Rookie mistake.

  At the rear of the bar, Miller noticed Vodicka enter.

  “Wait! Let me do it, Sarge,” Vodicka said, walking up to him, putting her hand on top of his pistol and pushing his arm down. “I want to take this snooty bitch out.”

  “Make it quick! Backup’s on its way,” Sarge replied.

  Having no time to think, Miller let go of Luke, ready to lunge when Vodicka was within reach. “I want to see what you’ve got, Vodicka. Let’s see if you’re as tough as Luke says. Come on! One on one; how about it?”

  Vodicka smiled. “It won’t take long.”

  In the background, Marlowe sidestepped towards Sarge.

  Getting to her feet, Miller stepped towards Vodicka, as her opponent slid a knife out of its sheath. “A believer in fair fights, huh? You fucking coward! Let’s have it, then.”

  With no warning, Vodicka took a swing at her with the knife.

  Miller ducked, the blade missing her by mere millimetres.

  Having a long arm reach, she punched Vodicka on the bridge of her nose.

  Angry, Vodicka went for her with the knife. Miller managed to grab her wrist, turn into her and launch Vodicka over her shoulder.

  The shorter Vodicka crashed into a table made of wood and glass.

  “Luke said you were good. Personally, I think he might have overestimated you.”

  The knife still in hand, Vodicka stood behind the broken table, her eyes narrow, evil slits of hatred. She flew at Miller.

  There was nothing Miller could do against such rage. Vodicka kept swinging and jabbing at her with the knife. Only two made their mark on Miller’s wrist and arm, enough to draw blood. Miller didn’t have time to bleed; she was countering everything Vodicka threw at her.

  Sensing Vodicka growing weaker, Miller lunged at her, grabbed her neck and headbutted her on the bridge of her nose again.

  The armed cop staggered backwards, her face a crimson mess.

  “You fucking bitch!” Miller lunged at her opponent again, managing to get her on the floor.

  Picturing Luke’s beautiful face with every punch, she rained down blow after blow on Vodicka’s already-damaged face. Her rage took on momentum.

  “I don’t think so, bitch!” Sarge pushed his Glock in the back of Miller’s head.

  75

  Hayes fired her Glock for the third time, hitting another mercenary in the knee. On the second floor of the hotel, in a bedroom over the bar, she pointed her gun at the intruder, who gripped his leg, blood trickling over his fingers. “Into the bathroom, now,” Hayes ordered, gesturing the en suite with her gun. “Consider yourself lucky you came across me first. My colleagues shoot to kill.”

  She’d ordered Charlotte to stay behind her at all times. “That’s it, inside, there’s a good boy. I’ll have a paramedic here ASAP; I only hope it’s in time before you bleed out.” The hotel was old fashioned, with bathrooms coming with keys to the door. She locked him in, took the key and pocketed it for later. “I haven’t heard many shots recently.”

  “And your backup’s nearly here.” Charlotte pulled at the arm straps. “Is it over?”

  “I don’t know.” Hayes pointed her gun at the door and walked towards it. “Only one way to find out. Stay with me, okay?”

  The door creaked as she opened it, peeking out, into the hallway. Clear. She stepped out, beckoning Charlotte to follow her. The mercenary trapped in the bathroom continued screaming in both pain, and frustration. There were two more in other rooms.

  Breathing shallow, trying to make as little noise as possible, Hayes descended the stairs one at a time, the Glock out in front of her, ready to fire at a moment’s notice.

  On the first floor landing she looked in both directions but couldn’t see anything. She could spend hours hunting for Miller in a hotel this big. After she decided to start looking left, she heard a man talking, followed by Miller’s angry reply.

  Hayes knew her partner well enough to know when she was upset; her voice had a harsher tone to it, and the way she spoke to the male, whoever it was, she hated him. Aiming her gun at the bottom of the stairs, Hayes took each step with as much stealth as she could. “Shh!” She held a finger up for Charlotte, whispered, “Not a word!”

  The closer Hayes came to the bottom of the stairs, the more she could hear. When she was by the door to the bar, Hayes stood with her back against the wall, listening.

  “Why did you have to kill Luke? If he was going to grass on you, the IOPC would have you in cuffs already.”

  “He told you, that’s enough of
a reason. Oh, I’ve heard all about you, Miller. A real stickler for the rules, aren’t you? Well, the rules don’t apply to people like Demirci, or those vile cousins of hers. No one’s going to mourn their deaths. No one’s going to come looking for them, either. It’s like they never existed.”

  “Why did you do it? You’re a police officer, for Christ’s sake,” Miller said, her voice bitter, resentful.

  “We didn’t, as it happens. Voddy here, myself and Luke, we collared the Inan brothers in a kebab shop, bunged them in the back of a van and drove them to a friend’s farm. Zuccari and the others brought Demirci along. We were only going to scare them, rough them up, but before we knew what was going on, Zuccari pulled a gun out and shot one of the brothers in the face. Our fates were sealed the moment Zuccari pulled the trigger.”

  “You could’ve handed Zuccari in.”

  “Don’t be so naïve, Miller. That’s what Luke said, but we were all there, all part of it, all prepared to do our bit for the sake of the unit, except Luke. I didn’t want to shoot him; he was the best fucking cop I’ve ever had the pleasure of working with.”

  “Sarge, it’s time to end this. Enough talking! Let me do it.”

  Hayes blew out air, held her breath and breached the bar, kicking the door open, finding her targets. “You’re under arrest, Sarge. Put the gun down; it’s over.”

  Miller was on her knees in front of Vodicka, who had a knife under her throat. Hayes wanted to open fire on Vodicka first, but the Sarge had his Glock trained on her. Marlowe stood less than a metre away from Sarge.

  “You put yours down, or Voddy opens your partner up.”

  Marlowe winked at her, without Sarge seeing. “I mean it. I heard everything. You’re no better than the scumbags we put away, do you know that? In fact, you’re worse. At least the dealers and murderers out there know they’re the bad guys. You, you’re dressing up as cops, but gangsters underneath. You disgust me!”

  “Hayes, now!” Marlowe flew at the Sarge.

  Hayes turned her gun on Vodicka, who was about to slit Miller’s throat. Squeezing the trigger three times, one bullet hit Vodicka in the chest, another in the neck and the third in the cheek.

  Miller grabbed the knife from Vodicka, slicing her hand in the process.

  Vodicka fell to her knees, staring at Hayes.

  Hayes stood with her mouth slightly open as Vodicka drew her last breaths. By the time she noticed Marlowe punching Sarge, Vodicka was on her back, staring up at Miller.

  Vodicka died lying next to Walker.

  “Give up, Sarge, it’s over!” Hayes pointed her gun at him.

  Marlowe’s fight with Sarge took on momentum.

  Before she could intervene, they were wrestling for Sarge’s Glock. “I mean it, Sarge. It’s over. Give it up before you get yourself killed.”

  A gunshot reverberated around the large room, making Hayes jump.

  Sarge lay on his back with a chest wound. Hayes heard him struggling to breathe. She stepped up to him and watched as his breathing stopped.

  Before she could say anything, Marlowe grabbed the Glock and stood up, pointing it at Hayes. “Marlowe, what are you doing? It’s over!”

  “For you, maybe. But not for me. What’ve I got to look forward to, huh? What, a lifetime in prison? No fucking way that’s happening.”

  “You bastard!” Charlotte snapped. “Prison’s too good for you, you piece of shit!”

  Hayes glared at Charlotte. “You’re not helping. Shut up!”

  “Yeah, listen to Hayes, and shut the fuck up. While you’re at it, give me that rucksack, now.” He pointed the pistol at Charlotte, then back at Hayes.

  “Wait! Marlowe, please don’t do this.” She pointed her gun at him, glanced at Miller, who stood with her hands up. “That battery’s too important. The world needs it.”

  “Not as much as I do. That little battery’s my insurance policy. All the while I have it, and promise not to expose it, the colonel won’t come after me. Come on! Bring it over here, now, or I’ll shoot you in the face and walk over there and get it myself.”

  Over a tannoy a police officer ordered everyone inside to exit the building with their hands up.

  Hayes couldn’t have him take the battery.

  When her finger moved, Marlowe lowered his gun and fired at her leg.

  The pain was indescribable. Hayes fell to the floor, clutching the wound, which was already bleeding profusely. All thoughts of using her gun fell away at the excruciating pain. “You bastard!” were the only words she managed.

  “Hayes!” Miller rushed over to her, placing her hands over the wound.

  Marlowe accepted the bag from Charlotte and put it on. “Looks like no one will be coming after me now, huh? If Miller leaves you, you’ll die of blood loss. Anyway, I’ll be off. See you both around.” He smiled, then fled the room.

  Hayes was already woozy from blood loss. “Go… after… him.”

  Miller shook her head. “Are you mad? No way! If I leave, you might die. The battery’s not that important. Charlotte, go outside, explain the situation. Tell them we need an ambulance now.”

  An armed police officer burst into the room with three colleagues. “Identify yourselves!” He stepped up to Miller, his carbine trained on her.

  “Detective Sergeant Rachel Miller, my ID’s in my pocket,” she said, still pressing down on Hayes’ leg wound. “We need a paramedic in here, now. And there’s a suspect carrying a rucksack out the back. We need the contents of that bag, do you understand?”

  “Go after the bag, please,” Hayes said, shivering.

  Sweat rolled down Hayes’ face. She lay back, staring up at the ceiling, which was getting darker by the second. Miller kept telling her to stay awake, but she couldn’t keep her eyes open. So tired.

  The last thing she heard were gunshots, followed by voices.

  Day 9

  Wednesday, June 20th

  76

  Miller looked up from the hospital floor to find a doctor in a white coat walking towards them. She stood with Inspector Gillan, and Travis, waiting for the doctor to tell them if Hayes was okay. “And?” Anxious, she studied his reaction.

  “It was touch and go there for a while, I’ll be honest. The surgeon said she lost a lot of blood. Luckily the bullet missed her femoral artery, but embedded itself so close, it took her a while to free it. Although Hayes’ heart stopped twice on the operating table, she was revived on both occasions, and I hope she’ll make a full recovery.” He smiled at her. “She’s one brave lady, I’ll give her that. You should all take better care of her.”

  “Oh we will, and thank you so much. You don’t know how relieved I am.” Miller went to shake his hand, and a touch emotional, hugged him instead.

  “I think I can tell.” The doctor’s voice was strained. “You’re strangling me.”

  “Oh, I’m so sorry!” Miller relinquished him. “Is she awake? Can I see her?”

  “Yes. She’s in her room and she asked for you, Detective Miller. I’m sorry! I would allow you all in, except she’s still groggy from the anaesthetic. I’ll give you ten minutes with her, then she must get some rest.”

  Miller glanced at the clock on the wall. 04:30. She’d been waiting here for hours, which actually felt like days. The not knowing was over; she could breathe. “Is it down the hall?”

  The doctor caught the attention of a nurse, asked her to show Miller to the recovery wing, and Miller followed the portly woman along a corridor. “Thank you!” Miller ran to the end room the nurse pointed to.

  Opening the door, Miller saw that Hayes had her eyes closed, and her leg raised, bandaged. Miller thought she looked awful. Her usually lovely brown skin had a pale hue to it. “Are you awake?” Her whisper was met with a smile.

  “Sure, come in, Rachel,” Hayes replied.

  Miller closed the door, then walked to the side of Hayes’ bed, picking up a plastic chair as she did so. “How are you feeling? You gave me the biggest scare.” Ordinarily, she wo
uld hate Hayes calling her Rachel, but it seemed right somehow. All she was trying to do was stop herself from bursting into tears thinking about Luke.

  Ignoring her question, Hayes’ smile faded. “Marlowe?”

  Shaking her head, Miller gave Hayes the bad news. “In hospital. He was shot twice in the legs trying to run away. We have the battery stashed in the station. Since all this went down, every member of Luke’s unit is in police custody, including Zuccari. The IOPC are on it now, interviewing them one by one. Inspector Gillan reckons it’s only a matter of time until one of them caves under the pressure. All I care about is Zuccari getting his; he started it.”

  Hayes opened her bloodshot eyes. “And what about us?”

  “Suspended, until further notice.” Miller said it nonchalantly, so as not to alarm her. “I’ve made my statement to Gillan already. I’ve been told it’s a formality, that if my statement’s true, the IOPC will clear us.”

  “But I killed… a cop. I shot Vodicka.”

  “Yeah, because she was about to slit my throat. Don’t ever forget that. You saved my life yesterday. If you hadn’t pulled the trigger, it’d be me lying in the morgue, not that bitch. Honestly, you did nothing wrong.” Miller wanted so badly for Hayes to believe her words. The doctor wasn’t wrong; her partner was the bravest woman she’d ever met.

  “I’m so sorry about Luke,” Hayes said, tears rolling down her cheek, onto her pillow. “I know how much you liked him.”

  “Me too.” Her chin wobbled. A lump formed in her throat, promising to strangle her. “I really liked him.” Hayes’ hand reaching out for hers, fingers interlocking, was all it took. Miller put her head on Hayes’ sheet and sobbed.

  THE END

  A note from the publisher

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