wasn’t getting up any time soon. The tramp ran over and fell on her fella, crying, wailing, gobbing off at North, snot running from her nose. God she was ugly.
North moved up to the bar. He was about to speak when the barman’s eyes glanced past North. North looked into his old friend, the mirror, behind the optics. Two lads with sawn-off pool cues in their hands were coming at him. They must have ducked into the annex while he was taking care of Vinnie, the sneaky little fuckers.
They were young, fit and not so little. They wore local gang colours. North lifted a half full pint glass from the nearest punter, swung round and threw it as hard as he could. It exploded in the first kid’s face. He dropped the cue as his hands clutched at glass and claret. The second kept coming but North side stepped and wood crashed into the bar. North raked the sole of his shoe down the kid’s shinbone and then put all of his weight down onto the bridge of the lad’s foot. The kid went down and North put his sole into his face. Lights out. He kicked the other one in the bollocks for good measure and went back to the bar.
‘I won’t ask you again,’ said North.
‘Aw, we were just fucking with yer,’ old saggy red faced Jimmy chuckled into his cider. ‘Have a drink. Them other pigs took off after him ages ago.’
‘Enlighten me,’ said North.
EIGHT
North could only watch and wait while the armed response unit went to work. The window of opportunity for charging forward and kicking his way inside this one had long gone. Two missing detectives had stopped everything. Everyone had been on it. The helicopter had ID’d a possible location and the ground forces had closed in on a rundown, disused industrial site about five miles south of the Pond House.
Hastily rigged lights and sniper sights were trained on the building. The helicopter now roared overhead, its nitesun illuminating the entire scene as the unit received final instructions.
Back at the Pond House North had learned that some guy had entered the pub through the front door, a half hour before North had returned, then left with Rawlins via the back two minutes later. The element of surprise must have given them a good few yards on James and they had made it to a car, close by. Mason and James had gone in pursuit and off the radar.
The chopper had started its search along the main arteries relaying possible locations to the ground. It could cover areas in twelve minutes that would take the entire station over two hours. Some sad sod had worked it out. The fly boys had been chasing charvers over every inch of ground for miles around for years. The tactical flight officer had initially picked up a light source just off the A1 on an abandoned industrial site they knew no longer had power running to it. The light was fixed and steady so it wasn't kids or tramps around a fire.
Thermal imaging had soon revealed three bodies nearby, moving about on the motorway embankment. The helicopter had stayed high. They didn't want to spook anyone into making any rash decisions. The same people responsible for killing Denise Lumsden could have Mason and James cornered down there. There was no sign of Mason’s car, or anyone else’s, but a couple of the units were plenty big enough to accommodate them. The thermal imaging camera only picked up surface heat so they couldn't tell if there were any warm engines beneath those roofs, or any other people. They moved away. A uniform was despatched. The uniform got close enough to see a car inside – at least a part of it. It was the same colour as Mason’s. The Chief had him retreat. He was two down and he wasn’t about to risk a third. He ordered in the cavalry.
It was all over in minutes.
The building was penetrated and secured and North had to push his way through the gathering crowd to find Mason and James. They were sat back to back either side of a vertical steel girder. It looked like they had their hands tied behind their
North moved up to the bar. He was about to speak when the barman’s eyes glanced past North. North looked into his old friend, the mirror, behind the optics. Two lads with sawn-off pool cues in their hands were coming at him. They must have ducked into the annex while he was taking care of Vinnie, the sneaky little fuckers.
They were young, fit and not so little. They wore local gang colours. North lifted a half full pint glass from the nearest punter, swung round and threw it as hard as he could. It exploded in the first kid’s face. He dropped the cue as his hands clutched at glass and claret. The second kept coming but North side stepped and wood crashed into the bar. North raked the sole of his shoe down the kid’s shinbone and then put all of his weight down onto the bridge of the lad’s foot. The kid went down and North put his sole into his face. Lights out. He kicked the other one in the bollocks for good measure and went back to the bar.
‘I won’t ask you again,’ said North.
‘Aw, we were just fucking with yer,’ old saggy red faced Jimmy chuckled into his cider. ‘Have a drink. Them other pigs took off after him ages ago.’
‘Enlighten me,’ said North.
EIGHT
North could only watch and wait while the armed response unit went to work. The window of opportunity for charging forward and kicking his way inside this one had long gone. Two missing detectives had stopped everything. Everyone had been on it. The helicopter had ID’d a possible location and the ground forces had closed in on a rundown, disused industrial site about five miles south of the Pond House.
Hastily rigged lights and sniper sights were trained on the building. The helicopter now roared overhead, its nitesun illuminating the entire scene as the unit received final instructions.
Back at the Pond House North had learned that some guy had entered the pub through the front door, a half hour before North had returned, then left with Rawlins via the back two minutes later. The element of surprise must have given them a good few yards on James and they had made it to a car, close by. Mason and James had gone in pursuit and off the radar.
The chopper had started its search along the main arteries relaying possible locations to the ground. It could cover areas in twelve minutes that would take the entire station over two hours. Some sad sod had worked it out. The fly boys had been chasing charvers over every inch of ground for miles around for years. The tactical flight officer had initially picked up a light source just off the A1 on an abandoned industrial site they knew no longer had power running to it. The light was fixed and steady so it wasn't kids or tramps around a fire.
Thermal imaging had soon revealed three bodies nearby, moving about on the motorway embankment. The helicopter had stayed high. They didn't want to spook anyone into making any rash decisions. The same people responsible for killing Denise Lumsden could have Mason and James cornered down there. There was no sign of Mason’s car, or anyone else’s, but a couple of the units were plenty big enough to accommodate them. The thermal imaging camera only picked up surface heat so they couldn't tell if there were any warm engines beneath those roofs, or any other people. They moved away. A uniform was despatched. The uniform got close enough to see a car inside – at least a part of it. It was the same colour as Mason’s. The Chief had him retreat. He was two down and he wasn’t about to risk a third. He ordered in the cavalry.
It was all over in minutes.
The building was penetrated and secured and North had to push his way through the gathering crowd to find Mason and James. They were sat back to back either side of a vertical steel girder. It looked like they had their hands tied behind their
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