Highbridge (36 page)

Matt slammed the stock of his MP5 into Leather's lower back. Not enough to put him down, but enough to arch his back in pain. Yet, it was the lad that protested.

‘Don't. Please. Don't.'

Matt couldn't believe it. He whipped round and yanked the hood off the lad's face, so he could eyeball him. ‘You what? You pleading for this … this …'

But Luke stepped across and physically pulled Matt away. He knew what would now be running through Matt's adrenalin-fuelled mind. The brutalisation of the innocents. But he didn't want that to take control right now. Because he also recognised the lad. It was the Ragged Priest from the quad bikes. Now, with tears running down his face, and legs covered in his own excreta, he looked about twelve but was probably in his mid-teens. And far less threatening than he'd seemed before.

Always the same, Luke thought. Always the kids. He was the only one actually carrying a weapon. The others would try the same line of fiction he and Matt had off pat. Been away. Just back. Not knowing what was in their mate's car. But the naïve, impressionable kid would get a juvenile sentence and be back with the troops in a year or two. Same the world over. The so-called hard men hide behind the kids.

‘Please don't hurt him because of me.'

‘Why? Got brothers, have you? Said he'd do the same? Or a sister he'd do worse to?'

Even though Leather was still winded, facing away from him with his hood on, the lad was terrified. Luke had been there before. He knew it was hopeless trying to break through a lifetime of conditioning. No matter how short that lifetime had been. He just gave the lad a tap on the shoulder, put the hood back on and put him in the stress position. He was already in his own hell. A bit more suffering wouldn't matter. And it was safer all round.

He then backed away, taking up the watch position. Matt, now calmer, stooped to open the holdall from the X5, into which he had tossed the mobile phones and wallets he had taken off the drug crew. He lifted out three aluminium baseball bats, two cut-down shotguns, the traditional close-quarter weapon of choice, another Skorpion, and a Glock 21 .45 – The higher-calibre handgun of choice for many of the world's more macho law enforcement organisations. Very nice, thought Matt, as he removed the clip and lifted it to show Luke.

‘Like your guns, then?' Luke directed at Leather. But received no reply.

‘Our guys get banged up for bringing souvenirs like this home. Did you know that?' Matt shouted across to the four naked shiverers. ‘Criminal that, I'd say. What do you say?'

Again, no one answered. No one knew how or whether they should risk it.

Luke was also watching Matt. Looking for any more signs of volatility. He still looked calm as he lined up all the six mobile phones the drugs team had had between them. Two – the Samsung Galaxy and iPhone 5 – would probably be their legit domestics. The others a collection of throwaways. He then noticed Luke watching him.

‘I'm, OK. OK?' he said.

Luke nodded and watched as Matt stood, made sure his MP5 was on safety and at his back so couldn't be easily grabbed, before going down the line.

‘Now,' he started. ‘I'm guessing we've all seen the box sets of
The Sopranos
or
The Wire
or
24
. And what Jack Bauer can do to people he doesn't like. We don't want to do that. Well,' he leaned closer to Leather. ‘In your case we do, to be honest, but we won't if …' he paused for the emphasis. ‘If … If you just tell us, first, the unlock codes and then, for bonus points, everything else we want to know. OK?'

The two foot soldiers agreed immediately, as they probably only had the throwaways. Mr Muscle told Matt what he could do with the phone, which didn't sound too comfortable, so he edged his feet further from the wall.

Matt then moved back to Leather. ‘Well?'

Once again. No response. Which was when Matt took out his Blackhawk folding knife and quickly rammed it into Leather's hand, catching Luke as much by surprise as it did Leather, who let out a squeal as Matt twisted the knife, before yelling out his unlock codes. He was obviously a Jack Bauer fan. Matt looked across to Luke. Did it work?

Luke held his stare for a moment. What was that? Matt shrugged. He didn't care. Did it work? He nodded towards the phones. Do the codes work?

Luke thought back to seeing Leather drop the guy from the crane. Matt was right. He didn't actually care either. He tried the codes. Then nodded. Leather's phones opened. With pictures of the dog on both. Snarling. So much for Leather's Scouse Spouse. He then disabled the lock codes so they would stay open.

Matt smiled, pleased his tactic had worked, and backed over to Luke who was now scrolling through the Samsung's heavily populated address book. A gold mine, if they knew what they were looking for. He then opened the photo library and among all the usual family, dog, holiday shots he found a video folder named Stuff. He opened it and started looking through the content, his face hardening. Matt leaned over to take a look. And that was the second trigger. When it had really kicked off. What put Leather into a heap on the floor. It didn't explain why they were now searching for him, and the Ragged Priest, in the dark.

Since watching Husani's brake lights slide round the corner at the end of her road, Tanya had not heard or seen a thing from Becky. She was now sitting in Becky's parents' kitchen trying to calm them down while wondering if she should really be doing this role reversal thing. She was even more suspicious of Husani than they were, but here she was with Carol trying to reassure two parents that their daughter was probably safe and just infatuated by some rich guy in a flash car.

When they asked her whether they should call the police she wanted to scream, yes, do it, but when she glanced at Carol she could see her wide eyes were expressing exactly what was going on in her own head. No-o-o. How embarrassing could that be? She'd go crazy if her own mum and dad called the cops if she went off with a new guy. But that's if they knew, she thought as she looked back at Becky's mum now desperately chewing her lip and looking to her husband for support as she was replaying all manner of horror news stories in her head.

‘And you think this lad's been stalking her?' she asked.

Another look to Carol who was also beginning to pick up the anxiety and focus her attention on Becky's dad, himself trying to erase the media images from his mind. They had to call the police. It was seeping from every pore. They couldn't just sit and hope, could they? It was conveyed in a look towards Tanya. This isn't fair, she thought. I am just a kid. Really.

And in that moment she decided to do what kids often do. Phone the ones they often ridicule. Their mums.

It had only taken Luke a moment to get across and grab the baseball bat, to stop Matt cracking open Leather's skull. It wasn't that he was fussed one way or the other about what happened to him. The images on his phone had already condemned him. What he was fussed about was having traceable DNA splattered all over the place. It had only taken a moment, but that was all it ever took. One lapse. And from then on you're on the back foot trying to catch up. Like now, out in the dark, without night vision. He never envisaged they would need it and they were, after all, operating on someone else's budget.

After pulling Matt off, Luke had put his fingers on Leather's neck. He had found the pulse. At least he was still alive.

‘You should have let me finish him,' Matt whispered as they peered into the darkness. ‘While I was in the grip of the beast.'

It was a phrase Matt had adopted to explain the surges of rage. It was part of the post-traumatic stress litany. Matt knew that. As he knew that it was never a problem in normal civvie life. At least not in the parts where people didn't go round terrorising others. Especially kids. That was always the trigger. He knew that too. As did Luke. Ever since the snatch and grab just outside Basra. Going house to house to find the target, they had come across a group gang-banging a small girl. It was outside their rules of engagement so they were backing away, until the rapists sent an eleven-year-old boy old after them with a suicide vest. The boy died, as did the rapists. They'd made a mistake. And given due cause.

Matt had then carried the young girl ten miles to the field hospital with a shrapnel wound to his thigh. They were both treated, but she later died of her injuries. There's always one moment that does it. Imprints a memory impossible to dislodge. For Luke it was Janey's death. Nothing could dislodge that. And looking across at Matt, now squatting against the opposite wall, working to keep himself under control, Luke knew those memories were why they were both here. Wondering what to do next.

Originally the idea was to snatch them, slap them around, and terrify them to the point that they would agree to move on. But it didn't seem to be going down that route. As soon as he had seen Leather order the crane execution he knew these weren't just street corner dealers. They had, he thought, not missing the irony, stepped into a war without proper intelligence and without a plan for its execution and aftermath. If that is the case, his thoughts continued, we will have to do what we have always done in such circumstances. As they had done at Leather's farmhouse. Improvise.

It was why he was surprised, but not shocked, when Matt stuck the knife into Leather's hand. After how they'd seen him treat the young kid he could have ignored anything Matt wanted to do to him. The next stage of the improvisation was to see what deal could be struck.

‘OK,' he had suddenly announced, as much for Matt's benefit as for the drugs crew. ‘Let's see where we're up to? I told you to stay away. You didn't. Now, we have you bollock naked. We have your phones. On which are all your contacts and photos. We have your weapons. All of which constitutes enough evidence to put you all away for a very long time. We also have body bags. So, we have a few choices.'

He looked across to Matt who seemed to be in agreement, if curious as to where Luke was going.

‘We could leave you all here and call the blue lights,' Luke continued, but saw that didn't particularly appeal to Matt. ‘We could simply slot the lot of you and leave you in the body bags.' That got a more considered nod.

‘Or,' he continued, looking at Matt, expecting a reaction. ‘We could call it a truce and all get to go home.' Matt didn't disappoint. His eyes flared. No way. But Luke held up his hand. ‘And never come back.'

Matt was shaking his head. Why was Luke offering a way out? Not only had they seen what Leather was capable of but he would be running the same scenario as Matt was in his head. Say yes. Get home. Recover. Come back better prepared.

But it was Mr Muscle who broke the silence. ‘Tell him to go piss—' But it was all he got to say, as Matt placed the muzzle of the MP5 on his back. Shut up.

The driver tried next. ‘Say, yes, Pete.' He didn't have to add the begging please.

Eventually. It came. ‘OK. OK. Deal.'

Luke turned to Matt. Matt shook his head again. You can't. Luke nodded. He wasn't. ‘Not you,' he then said to Leather. ‘But the rest of you can go home tonight.'

He stepped across to Mr Muscle. ‘Even you.'

But that was the moment.

Perhaps it was because he was deliberately goading Mr Muscle into action, Luke had just got careless, but the result was the same. Mr Muscle answered as he had all night. With defiance. A pure attack dog. Even though still hooded he pushed himself back from the wall and swung out, just catching Luke a glancing blow. It wasn't enough to knock him down, but it pushed him across Matt's line of vision. By the time it cleared, Mr Muscle had his hood off and was grabbing the driver and pushing him towards Matt. He then turned and ran for the door, but Matt had sidestepped, grabbed another of the baseball bats and cut him off at the knees. He then dropped his weight on to Muscle's back, yanked his hands round and zip-tied them again. This time attaching him to the remnants of the old cast iron heating system. After putting the hood back on he looked across to see Luke doing the same to the driver. But Leather had gone. Along with the young kid.

A moment. That's all it takes.

‘There's coppers all over the place, Joe.'

It was Gazza. Calling Joey. Telling him what had happened at the bridge.

‘Do they know the bridge was open?'

‘No, don't think so. Just saw them talking to a couple of wrinklies who got stuck behind a car.'

‘OK, then go home. And Gaz …'

‘Yeah?'

‘Thanks. But don't call me again on this number. OK?'

‘Er … yeah. OK, Joe. And er … We quits now, yeah?'

‘No problem.' Joey ended the call and turned back to the house, only to find Natasha leaning on the open patio door.

‘Who was that?'

He just looked at her. She nodded. Remembering. She didn't want to know. ‘Although,' she then said, ‘I would like to know what's going on with Tanya.' She turned back to the house, but stopped. ‘Is that a new phone?'

‘Er … yeah. Something I picked up from Bobby.'

She turned as her own phone rang inside. Going to answer it she shouted back, ‘I hope it wasn't one of his knock-offs.'

Joey followed with a wry grin. He hadn't been referring to the phone itself. Only its disposability.

‘There,' Matt hissed. Directing his hand and Luke's eyeline to a small weed-covered mound about 30 yards to their right.

Luke nodded when he saw the small movement. A sniper's target. A geometric shape in amongst nature's chaos of weeds. A head. Trying to determine where they were. Despite having neither night vision headsets nor sights on the MP5s, they did have one small advantage. The pasty white skin of the young kid. While their blacks would make them hard to see, even in a half-moon naked flesh would jump out. Matt had rolled off to his right to try and work his way round to their left side, while Luke moved to the left, to come up on their right. At least they didn't have any weapons. Luke had checked they were all still in the holdall and that was now locked in the van.