PANIC BUTTON a gripping crime thriller full of twists

by Charlie Gallagher

  CHAPTER 34

  White lines flashed under the Mercedes Sprinter van that had maxed out at 105 mph. Inside, the van buzzed with the voices of the division’s tactical team, chattering as they prepped for the operation ahead. Only the driver was quiet. His eyes were narrowed, picking out road signs, looking for his exit, one ear on the radio updates that were coming in through all five radios turned to maximum volume. The front seat passenger was turned sideways so he could talk to the three officers standing in the back of the Sprinter, each of them desperate to get to the area, find the stolen Audi and stop it any way they could.

  They had been warned not to engage if they located him. This was not an armed tactical team, yet the fact that their prey was armed and happy to shoot at police officers did nothing to dampen their enthusiasm.

  The van was some way behind the team’s sergeant, who was driving a marked Skoda Octavia VRS estate response vehicle. The police car had come to a stop with the engine ticking over.

  ‘I’m just saying we need to think about it. Every other fucker’s rushing to where the car was last seen, but it ain’t gonna be there still, is it?’ Constable Robert Miller, nicknamed Windy, rubbed his bald head, looked up from his map book and peered out into the dark night. Rainwater ran thick down the windscreen that showed the reflection of an intense Sergeant Ben Knotts.

  ‘Well what options do we have? He’s been seen taking that car so he isn’t just going to take it home and pull up on the drive, now, is he? So maybe he’s running as far from the scene as he can get. What else can he be doing?’

  ‘He ain’t running.’ Windy was looking at his map again.

  ‘What makes you so sure of that?’ Knotts peered across at his colleague and friend.

  ‘You said it, mate. He knows the police are after him, he’s chosen a white Audi S3 — I mean even in rush-hour traffic, one of them would stand out. I don’t think he’s running at all. I think he’s going somewhere, and he probably knows that there’s gonna be coppers there.’

  ‘What, some sort of final shootout? This ain’t some fuckin’ cowboy film!’

  ‘Nah, mate. If he wanted a shootout he woulda just sat there and waited for us to come to him. He’s running somewhere. It ain’t home, so where else is there?’

  ‘His wife, you think?’ Knotts rubbed at his chin. ‘All right, we’ll go with your whim, but I’m sending the van to join in with the area search down where it was last seen. And let me tell you, if we miss out on the job of the century because you fancy yourself as something out of Bad Boys, I ain’t gonna be happy!’

  Windy pushed the map over towards his sergeant, pointing a thick finger at a B Road.

  ‘His missus has moved to the mum’s, right? From where the shooting happened he’ll take this road to get away from the scene as quickly as possible but he’ll get off the main road here.’ He pointed to a junction halfway along the B road.

  Knotts pointed at the map. ‘This is where Freddie got done.’ He was referring to the sergeant gunned down while still sitting on his police bike.

  Windy nodded. ‘It was there somewhere. He knows this area.’

  Knotts pushed the map away and engaged first gear. ‘Can you let the van know we’re taking a small deviation but they need to continue to Hythe?’

  Windy updated the van over a private channel used only by the team. The atmosphere was tense as Knotts accelerated towards the back roads of Hythe. Windy didn’t like silence, so he punctured it with a tuneless song.

  ‘Bad boys, bad boys watcha gonna do? Watcha gonna do when we come for you?’

  Their laughter echoed around the car as they sped towards their destination.

  * * *

  The Audi stood out as it was driven hard through the sodden landscape of rural Hythe and it damned near clipped the marked police car as it passed in the opposite direction.

  ‘Fuck! That was it.’

  Windy needn’t have said anything, Knotts was already hard on the brakes, he jerked the Skoda across the road, the front dug into the hedgerow and he snatched at reverse gear to complete the turn.

  Knotts had received his advanced certificate when he was still relatively young. He had a natural feel for cars and could drive them to their limits. Now he hung onto every gear as he caught up with the red tail lights ahead. His teeth were clenched in concentration. ‘We’ve fucking got him, Windy!’

  Windy radioed in. ‘Zulu Two Zero, permission.’

  ‘Zulu Two Zero, go ahead.’

  ‘Control we are behind the white Audi, we are at Barrow Hill, top end of Hythe.’

  ‘Received, confirm SD62 KMS an Audi S3, colour white?’

  ‘Yes, yes. We’re not close enough to confirm the registration but it’s our man and he is aware of us.’

  ‘Received. Confirm you have illuminated blues and the vehicle is now making off?’

  ‘We might as well,’ said Windy to his sergeant, who responded by pressing a button marked ‘999’ on the dashboard. The raindrops on the windscreen suddenly shimmered in bright blue. ‘Yes, yes,’ he said into the radio.

  This time there was a slight pause before the reply. Knotts knew this was the point where an inspector at the control centre would be consulted and could call off the pursuit. He was past caring at this stage. There was no way he was going to lose that car.

  ‘Zulu Two Zero, you are authorised for phase one pursuit. The inspector has asked that you be aware that you are not, I repeat not, to approach the vehicle or any persons therein should they decamp, nor are you to approach the vehicle should it come to a stop. You are to keep with the vehicle and provide commentary on its movements only. We are calling armed officers to your location.’

  Windy and his sergeant exchanged hurried glances before Knotts’ attention was drawn back to the road, which suddenly veered to the right. Thick trunks of old trees at either side marked the start of a patch of Forestry Commission land. Knotts brought the clutch down and dropped to second gear. He pulled the Skoda’s front end round a sharp bend, and as it straightened out, the red lights of the Audi were suddenly bigger — they’d made up a lot of ground.

  ‘Zulu Two Zero, you are required to acknowledge the last, over.’

  ‘Received.’

  Knotts thumped the steering wheel. ‘We’ve fucking got him, mate. I tell you, he can’t drive that thing for shit.’

  * * *

  George had misjudged a corner he knew well. It swept around to the right and his approach had been fine, but he’d pushed the car too hard coming out, and he headed towards a high bank and a line of large trees. The wheels had grazed the bank, the front wheel lifting up and dragging sticks and slippery leaves out of the undergrowth, spilling them onto the road. He hadn’t suffered any damage, but getting the Audi back straight had lost him time. He now faced a long straight stretch up a steep hill, and the flashing blue police vehicle was almost upon him. The Audi powered up the hill. The patrol car fell away a little but George knew that he was three, maybe four miles from his wife and daughter. Much of that was along twisty, single-track country lanes. The buzz in his ears was so loud it felt as though it was penetrating his mind. His eyes blurred every time he passed a lit up road sign, the rain making everything flare like neon. He was fighting off a migraine that he knew from experience could blind him.

  He still had no idea what he would do when he got to his family. All he knew was that he had to reach them.

  CHAPTER 35

  ‘Where the fuck are you?’ Helen Webb said.

  Barry Lance could hardly hear the chief superintendent’s words. He hesitated a little before responding. He wasn’t used to being spoken to in this manner and he had to remind himself that they were all under pressure. He was in a Range Rover travelling at 120 mph.

  His voice was gruff with tension. ‘Outskirts of Hythe. We’re zero five from the last reported position.’

  ‘You’ve been kept fully aware?’ Helen Webb was whispering now.

  Lance could just imagine her, duck
ed in some dark little corner away from the control room, glancing furtively round in case someone overheard.

  ‘I think so,’ Lance replied.

  ‘You think so? Two more bodies, Barry. Two more dead on my watch and we had this piece of shit in custody. We had him and I want him here again. This time there will be no mistakes.’

  Lance frowned. ‘There was no mistake last time. We got him in clean.’

  ‘The mistake was letting him go.’

  ‘That’s not really our part of the game, ma’am. I’ll get him back in for you. What you do with him then is entirely your—’

  ‘Not this time.’

  Lance didn’t quite understand. ‘Not this time?’

  ‘This time you don’t bring him in. This time you deal with him at the scene, Barry. Do you understand what I am saying? We cannot give this man an inch. He will not hesitate and I do not expect you to either.’

  Lance looked at the driver. ‘I do understand the situation, ma’am — at least I think I do. We are en route, ma’am, with weapons ready. Can you clarify what is required of us when we get there?’

  ‘Barry, this is not a police policy conversation. We both know how this plays out according to policy. We back off him, try to talk him down and it takes all night to get the man into custody, and all the while he has ample opportunity to take out more officers. In the circumstances I think you can justify the use of lethal force.’

  Now Lance ducked away. He turned to the passenger door and pressed the mouthpiece hard into his cheek. ‘You want me just to take him out.’ He glanced at the driver, whose eyes were on the road ahead.

  ‘As soon as you get the opportunity. He doesn’t walk away from this one, not under arrest, not injured. Not breathing.’

  ‘With respect, ma’am, we are an arrest team. We make those sorts of calls on the ground.’

  ‘This is not a normal situation, Barry. This is the very reason I brought you and your team in — I needed a job done.’

  ‘And I will need to justify my actions.’

  ‘You will have my full support for your actions. George Elms dies tonight, do you understand?’

  Lance shook his head. ‘Understood.’

  * * *

  Helen Webb hung up the phone and turned to see Inspector Price approaching her.

  ‘Ma’am, the helicopter’s picked him up.’

  Helen followed Price back to the control room and took up her position. Her throat felt dry and sore. ‘Do we have video?’

  Price nodded. ‘Just waiting for it to buffer.’ Helen bit her bottom lip as the live, birds-eye view of a speeding blur appeared, flashing through a canopy of trees. The picture was grainy, but it was good enough. The camera moved slightly and she saw the pursuing vehicle with its roof bar flashing blue. It was close, close enough to catch. And that might cause Helen problems.

  ‘He’ll be on Stone Street in less than a minute. He’s heading for his wife.’

  Helen spun towards the voice. ‘Where is his wife?’

  ‘At her mother’s address, ma’am. She was moved earlier this evening.’

  ‘Who authorised that?’

  ‘We thought you had.’ The stricken detective looked round the room helplessly. No one looked back.

  Helen now focused on Inspector Price. ‘So George Elms knows where his wife is, but the senior officer leading the investigation has no idea?’

  Inspector Price shrugged. ‘Maybe there’s still people in the force that will talk to him. We’ve got an armed officer with her, he must have made the decision to move her. Your firearms team have just joined Stone Street off the M20. Elms is a few minutes in front of them, but he won’t make it. He’ll never get anywhere near his wife.’

  Helen was still shaking her head when she made her transmission. ‘Zulu Two Zero, Zulu Two Zero, this is Chief Superintendent Helen Webb. Are you receiving, over?’

  There was a pause. ‘Go ahead, ma’am,’ said Windy.

  ‘Kilo Quebec are in position. Two Zero, you are required to break off your pursuit of the vehicle immediately. Confirm your understanding, please.’

  * * *

  ‘What did she say? Fuck! She’s not cancelling us?’ Knotts was watching the brake lights of the Audi as it came to a junction and turned left onto Stone Street. He knew the road well. It was long and straight and the more powerful Audi would have an advantage, but there were some twisty stretches towards the end, and Knotts was confident he could stay with him. There was no way he was going to let this fucker go. Helicopter or not, he wanted to be on hand for when Elms lost it and decamped. Knotts wanted to be there to put his hands round his neck.

  ‘She said it, mate. We’ve gotta call it off. The chopper will take over.’ Windy had leaned forward to try and get a view of the sky.

  ‘I’m not letting it go. Not now. We found him.’

  ‘Yeah, well done, but she don’t give a shit about that, does she? We’ll stay behind it — just ease back so we can pick up the pieces.’

  Knotts had reached the junction. ‘We stay with it.’

  Windy looked at the radio handset in his hand, a little desperate, as it blared again.

  ‘Did you receive the last? You are to cease the pursuit immediately.’

  Windy pressed the button. ‘All received.’

  ‘What did you say that for?’

  ‘Because I did receive her.’

  Knotts said nothing, but he kept the Audi in his sights.

  * * *

  George screwed his eyes tightly shut for a second, just to see if the pain behind his eyes would ease a little, enough for him to be able to focus. Through the sodden windows the scenery was now flashing past at 110 mph. The rain had relented, but was now back hard and large droplets pierced the tree canopy. The night sky was split apart by lightning. The ringing in George’s ears was so loud he couldn’t hear the thunder. George knew this road well. He would have to turn off at the Six Mile garage, where the road surface would deteriorate considerably. After that, the road would lead him right round to where he needed to be, on the north side of Hastingleigh.

  The Six Mile garage was shut for the night but still relatively well-lit. He could see that the patrol car had fallen behind on the straight, but he was sure they would have seen him turn in. Well, his cards were on the table as far as the police were concerned. He was going to see his wife and child.

  Even if it killed him.

  * * *

  ‘Kilo Quebec One, Kilo Quebec One. Subject vehicle is left, left onto an unnamed road towards Maxted Street, the marked vehicle is close behind, also left, left.’

  Helen Webb swore loudly. ‘Zulu Two Zero, this is a lawful order. You are to break off the pursuit immediately. Do you receive?’

  ‘Zulu Two Zero, received the last. We will break off the pursuit. Could you please confirm with Kilo Quebec that they will be continuing. We are heading towards a considerable electrical storm.’

  The helicopter crew were quick to answer. ‘Kilo Quebec One on the last, that’s a yes, yes. We are aware of the conditions but the storm is still some distance away. There is no need to break off at this time.’

  * * *

  Knotts was leaning forward, grimacing at the huge drops of rain now hitting the windscreen. The tree tops were suddenly etched against the sky in a whip of lightning.

  ‘Some distance away my ass. We’re fucking in among it, ol’ son.’

  Windy was also staring out of the window. ‘I’d say so.’

  ‘There’s no way I’m breaking away from this.’ Knotts sat back in the driver’s seat and squinted at the brake lights ahead. They had got closer since the lanes had become tighter.

  ‘Mate, she sounds pretty pissed off.’

  Knotts cast a glance at his mate. Beads of moisture had formed on Windy’s brow, and his body was rigid with tension.

  ‘Look, I’m the sergeant and I’m the one operating the pedals. It’s all down to me. I’ll say you told me to stop. Don’t worry.’

  Wind
y narrowed his eyes, looking into the torrent, the wipers a blur. ‘I am telling you to fucking stop!’ But his tone was mild.

  Knotts merely smiled.

  * * *

  George Elms could feel he was getting close. Visibility was getting worse as the rain became increasingly torrential and the windscreen wipers could no longer keep up. The Audi had slowed and George was aware that the car behind had made ground. The Audi’s headlights picked out a very old and gnarled oak tree split down the middle, which he knew marked the start of Westfield Wood. George had spent many hours in these woods walking the in-laws’ dog in the early days of his relationship with Sarah.

  George drove to the tree and braked late and hard, but the pursuing vehicle made up more ground, so that just a few metres separated the two vehicles as they both exited the corner. The Audi scrabbled for front wheel traction on the sodden carpet of leaves beside the steep mud banks. The police Skoda lurched forward, making contact with the rear of George’s vehicle. Both cars increased their speed but the Skoda came level with the back seats of the Audi. The road opened up. George knew that the police driver would need just another few feet on him and he would be able to make tactical contact, forcing him over to the side where they would either grind to a halt or spin him from the rear so he would lose control.

  George’s throbbing eyes flicked to his speedo. The needle rose quickly through 50 mph. He would have to take his chances on the straight. He knew he had less than 100 metres before the road became a single track and he would have to be clear of the Skoda.

  The Skoda still urged forward in his mirror. It was just a few metres short but George’s more powerful car was starting to pick up.

  The cars accelerated into the darkness.

  * * *

  ‘What’s going on?’ The policeman had woken up the whole house. Sarah’s mum had insisted on putting on the kettle, despite the initial message that they were being moved again, and as a matter of urgency. This had now been downgraded to a possibility. Sarah’s mum swigged a steaming mug while Sarah stood at the open door with her arms folded. The house was surrounded by trees. The paved drive that led directly away from the front door led into a tight country lane and the only break in the treeline. Sarah’s armed guard was staring in this direction.