Dean checked his watch as he opened the car door. He felt sick to the core. His kids were fighting for their lives and he had to deliver drug money. It all seemed so wrong now. He sighed as he climbed into the vehicle and pulled on his seatbelt. There was a gunshot some distance away. He jumped and twisted in the seat. The belt restricted his movements as he scanned the car park and the roads beyond for the source of the noise. The roads were raised above the car park; steep grassy banks led up to the pavements. He couldn’t see beyond the pavements because of the gradient.
“What the fuck is going on?” he hissed beneath his breath. “That was a shotgun. I know that was a shotgun. What the fuck are you doing here, Deano?”
He kept his head low as he fumbled with the keys. “Come on, come on!” He checked the rear view mirror. Flames flickered and glinted behind him. The keys jangled as he tried to find the ignition. He was starting to panic. “Shit, shit, come on, Deano, keep it together.” Black smoke was billowing in the distance behind him. Dean didn’t know what was on fire or where the gunshot had come from, but he had an inkling that he was in danger. A sixth sense told him to get the hell out of there fast. The keys fell from his hand and clattered into the foot-well. “Shit!” He unfastened the seatbelt and reached down. As he did, he caught sight of a figure running down the grass bank and across the car park. He was five hundred yards away, but he could make out that the man was tall and well built, and he was black. Dean fumbled about for the car keys, but he couldn’t take his eyes off the mirror as the familiar figure weaved through the parked cars at speed. “That is Jinx!” Dean took a deep breath and tried to compose himself. He looked around the foot-well and spotted the car keys under the clutch pedal. He splayed his fingers and stretched them to the limit, as he clawed at the leather fob. He could feel it, but he couldn’t clutch it. “Shit, shit, shit,” he whispered. Dean leaned back in the chair and checked the mirror again. Jinx was four rows away and sprinting hard across the car park, and the fire in the distance was raging. The black smoke was spiralling skyward and orange flames speared the air. Dean raked the floor with his Nike training shoe and tried to drag the keys toward him. He felt them beneath the sole of his trainer and he pressed down with his foot and pulled them. They rattled as they came free of the clutch and he reached forward and grabbed them.
This time, the ignition key slid into the lock and he heard the engine fire up immediately as he turned it. Dean could hear heavy footsteps approaching fast. He checked the rear mirror and saw Jinx flashing out of its corner. He was virtually at the back of the car. Dean looked in the wing mirror and Jinx was upon him. He thought about locking the driver’s door, but it was futile. It was too late. Jinx was running towards his car. The fire and the gunshot all added up to trouble. He thought about his children as he closed his eyes and waited. The footsteps sounded louder as they neared, and then they faded just as quickly as they clattered on by. Jinx ran between his car and a Vauxhall parked in the next bay, but he didn’t stop. He sprinted by, bobbing and weaving between vehicles, and he didn’t glance back once. Dean breathed out a sigh of relief as the big man kept on running. He turned the corner at the far end of the car park and Dean lost sight of him behind a laundry van.
His heart was racing as he put the Ford in gear, and the tyres screeched as he pulled away from the parking bay. He steered the vehicle along the narrow rows between the parked cars and kept his eyes on the smoke in the distance. Sirens were approaching from the direction of the city centre. Dean reached the edge of the car park and stopped at the traffic lights. The exit ramp offered him a better view of the roads around the hospital. To his left he could see a busy roundabout, and across the dual carriageway beyond it an estate car was burning fiercely. Traffic police were directing cars away from the fire, and the first fire engine arrived as the lights turned to green.
Dean felt relief as he turned the vehicle onto the main road, and he pushed the throttle down hard to put distance between him and the hospital. He had no way of knowing what had happened, but he wanted to get the job done and get back to his kids in one piece. There was no sign of Jinx on the pavements or grass verges as he made his way out of town. It was a short drive to the Crazy Computer shop and it would take him five minutes to retrieve the money from the safe and lock up again. Then he had to travel along Queen’s Drive ring road to the drive thru McDonalds there and hand over the money to an associate named Monkey. With that done he could return to his kids. Dean was adamant it was the last job that he was going to do. The Gecko was adamant that it would be his last job, too.
Will Naylor walked out of the house his detectives were pulling apart. Jack Howarth was gone and there was no sign of Kisha. The superintendant was harassing the forensic team, so it was time to go back to base and collate what they had so far. There was no point in both of them being there. It was better to let the scientists do their job. He had two important jobs on his to-do list, speak to reporter Lara Bridge at the Echo and track down and arrest Salim’s grandfather, Zamir Oguzhan. They couldn’t put the kidnap of Rose James on a back burner. She was in dire trouble and had to have the same priority given to her disappearance. He picked his way along the brick-strewn road to the cordon. A group of kids were running riot with a shopping trolley and several officers were trying to take it from them before they mowed someone down with it. A uniformed officer approached him as he neared the dwindling crowd at the barrier.
“Inspector,” the officer called. “Can I have a word with you, sir?”
“What’s up, constable?” Will asked. There were less than twenty people behind the police line. “I see the ghouls are getting bored and going home.”
“Yes, sir,” the young officer replied nervously. “There’s a guy here asking if I can let you know that he is waiting for you. He says it’s urgent, sir.”
“What guy?” Will asked. He looked at the faces along the cordon but didn’t recognise anyone. “Is he press?”
“No, sir,” the officer shook his head furiously. “I would have sent them packing. I think he is from the CTU, Sir. He showed me his ID, but I didn’t recognise it. Sorry, I’m new.”
“No problem, constable. Where is he?” Will asked. They were expecting the terrorist boys to pop up somewhere, so he wasn’t too surprised.
“He’s parked in the black Shogun there, sir.” The constable pointed a gloved hand toward a side street. There were a few random cars parked up and two patrol vehicles on one side of the street. Tank had parked the Shogun on the other side.
Will looked at the vehicle. It was a CTU truck. He had seen them around before. The tinted windscreen obscured the view of the driver. He checked his watch before walking through the stragglers to the vehicle, managing to avoid the shopping trolley which was hurtling around the street powered by a number of scallywag kids laughing hysterically. He opened the passenger door and put his head into the vehicle. “I believe you want to talk to me,” Will said abruptly. He wasn’t going to be messed about by the government spooks. Will made no attempt to get in.
“Agent Tankersley,” Tank replied with equal disrespect. “Get in. I have some information for you.”
“We’ve met, Agent Tankersley.” Will said. CTU were police officers, not agents. “Can I see your ID?”
“That’s right, Agent, get in.” Tank flashed him his badge.
“Are you CTU?”
“No, Terrorist Taskforce.” Tank stared at Will. “I have some important information for you, Detective Inspector Naylor. Get in.”
“Taskforce?” Will knew that they were a military outfit. “You have information for us?” Will climbed into the passenger seat reluctantly. He was impressed that the agent knew his name. “Now that is a first.”
“Is there any sign of Howarth?” Tank opened his laptop and glanced at Will.
“I thought you had information for us,” Will said with a straight face. “Not the other way around.”
“Do you think Jack Howarth has an accomplice?” Tank ignored his sarcasm and looked out of the windscreen as he spoke. The inspector’s attitude was expected. There was little love lost between the conventional law enforcement agencies and the military.
“Why?”
“Don’t fuck me about, inspector.” Tank looked at him again. “Your rank means nothing to me, and I haven’t got the time to play games. We don’t want to interfere in your investigation. If we did, I would have fifty agents swarming all over this and you would be back in your office chasing burglars by now.”
“Okay, what do you want to know?” Will bit is tongue. He knew that if they wanted to gatecrash the investigation, there was nothing that he could do about it.
“I’ll repeat the question. Do you think Howarth has an accomplice?”
Will thought about it. He was curious to see what the agent really wanted. Helping them was not his first instinct. That was certain. “Yes, we think he has an accomplice.”
“Good answer,” Tank nodded. He turned his laptop to face Will. “This is Nate Bradley. He’s on your police files, and I’m convinced he’s the man you’re looking for in connection with Jack Howarth. Find him and he will answer some of your questions. I have sent his files to your desk.”
“Who is he?” Will was bemused.
“I’ve just told you. He is Nate Bradley,” Tank smiled. “He’s your accomplice.”
“Just like that?” Will shrugged. “I can’t even interview the man on that. You know how it works on our side. We have rules to follow. I need more than just a name.”
Tank looked at the detective and rubbed his palm over his shaven scalp. “He’s ex-army, intelligence core.”
“Ah, one of your lot, then,” Will clapped his hands together. “That’s how you know about him. What’s happened, has he gone off your radar?”
“Look, Detective.” Tank snapped the laptop closed. “He was here in the crowd when I arrived. We knew as much as you did an hour ago, but if you read his file, then you will see the connection. His wife overdosed on heroin and his teenage son took a snide ecstasy tablet. They were both killed by drugs.”
“Drugs?” Will frowned confused. “This is a murder inquiry.”
“Howarth was in the frame for killing a drug dealer a few years back, right?”
“Well, yes.”
“It was around the time that Nate Bradley’s wife overdosed on heroin. His son died a week or so later, poisoned by a bad ecstasy tablet.”
“You think that’s his motive to join forces with Patrick Lloyd?”
“It’s motive enough to go after a dealer.”
“Perhaps,” Will nodded slowly. The drugs connected the suspects to the robbery at the nightclub, too. “You saw him in the crowd here and came up with that connection? It’s a bit thin, isn’t it?”
“Read the files, there’s more to it than that.”
“Come on, Agent Tankersley.” Will held his hands palms up and shrugged. “You made the effort to wait for me, so at least explain what you think is going on, please!”
Tank eyed him for a moment and the muscles in his jaw twitched. Will thought that he looked like he’d been chiselled from bronze. “You have officers watching the crowds at a crime scene like this?”
“Of course we do,” Will said. “It’s standard procedure.”
“I took some pictures of the crowd and recognised his face.” Tank opened the laptop again and showed Will. “I couldn’t place him, but I knew he was Special Ops.”
“Special Ops?” Will wasn’t sure what that meant exactly. “You said he was intelligence.”
“He was, but he worked for Special Ops. That’s all I can say.” Tank made a cutting motion with his hand. That was the end of that subject. “I ran a check on him and his name came back as Nate Bradley.”
“Okay, I’m with you so far.” Will looked the big man in the eye. “How have you made this connection?”
“I read that your Patrick Lloyd was in the frame for topping a dealer and taking his time over it, right?”
“Correct.”
“When I read Bradley’s civilian file, the death of his wife and son jumped out at me.”
“Phew, that’s a big jump,” Will breathed in sharply and shook his head. He wasn’t convinced.
“Look here,” Tank pulled up the missing persons’ files. “Two of his son’s friends are missing. Bradley informed the police that they had supplied his son with the ecstasy. Drug squad investigated the allegations but there was not enough evidence to arrest them. They both disappeared.”
“What are you saying?” Will looked at the details.
“Put yourself in his shoes for a minute.” Tank scrolled down and the information appeared on the screen. “Let’s say your wife overdoses and then your son dies a week later, both deaths caused by taking drugs. Then you find out who supplied them. You pass the information to the police and they can’t do anything. What would you do, Detective?”
“Do you know this guy?” Will asked. “I mean could he do this?”
“I don’t know the man, but if you’re asking me if he is equipped and capable of this, then yes, he is. He was Special Ops.”
“I need to look into this, but I can see why you made the connection. We’re sure Howarth had an accomplice.”
“Do you have any other suspects?”
“No.”
“Here is a suspect with the means, the know-how and the motive to torture a drug dealer to death. Why he chose Jack Howarth as the accomplice or what he has to do with your investigation now, I don’t know, and I don’t care.”
“You’ve sent this to me?” Will asked.
“Yes.”
“Thanks,” Will frowned again. “Tell me what your interest in this is?”
“We want Jack Howarth out of action, permanently.”
“Why would the taskforce be interested in Howarth?”
Tank stayed silent for a few moments. “The long and short of it is that he traffics people and equipment. Some of those people and equipment have been of interest to us.”
“What about your intelligence officer?”
“The taskforce has no interest in Nate Bradley. That’s why I’m giving him to you.”
“We’ll sort it, thanks again.” Will opened the door and held out his hand. Tank looked out of the front window and ignored the gesture. Will removed his hand and climbed out of the truck. “There’s no need for you to get involved in this. We will sort it, you know.”
“Good.” Tank started the engine and pulled away before Will had chance to close the door properly.
“Fucking spooks!” Will shouted as the Shogun roared away.