Go Out With A Bang! (9 page)

'It's
true,' said Debbie.

Bernie
said, 'Do you know the one thing that keeps me going?'

'What?'

'The
fact that Sandra is a brilliant agent. Deadly. Resourceful. And
Fred. A genius. Gifted. Capable. Do you seriously think those two
won't be okay?'

'That's
all you got?'

'Yes.
That's all I got. Want to take that from me?'

'No,
Uncle Bernie. I needed to hear that.' She rubbed her belly. 'Tell
me. He's coming back to me. To us.'

'Poppy.
With all my heart. They are coming back to us.'

Poppy
hugged her uncle. 'Thanks. I needed to hear that. I'll still kill
him.'

'I'll
help you.'

Chapter 26

'You put
money on this game?'

Crowe
said, 'Stan. Are you kidding? Holder and Briggs out of action? No
bloody way.'

'You're
not backing your team?'

'
You
put a bet on?'

Morris
stuffed more popcorn in his mouth. 'Hell, no. But Blue's will win,
yeah?'

'Yeah.
Absolutely. No. Maybe. Depends. Hope so.'

'That's
what I thought. Oh. Your phone off?'

'Too
right. Yours?'

'Accidentally forgot to turn it on. Off duty means off duty,
right? We are not cops today.'

Crowe
said, 'Sorry. What is it you do for a job?'

'I think
I'm either a terrible waiter at a very bad restaurant or a taxi
driver with halitosis, a bad comb-over and no sense of
direction.'

'Your
mom would be so proud.'

It was
three in the afternoon and it was the final. The stadium was full
and Morris and Crowe were best pals, not cops. The national anthem
played, everyone stood up and the teams wanted to do serious damage
to each other. I mean, come on? Blue's versus Red's? A ball was
supposed to be involved somewhere, lots of running, points on the
board. Skill, agility, sportsmanship, teamwork. None of that
counted. To be honest, if the referee forgot the ball, nobody would
have noticed. The ref blew his whistle and a twenty stone giant
promptly flattened him. The crowd roared their approval and it was
game on.

* *
*

Dale
Andersen hated two things most in the world. One, shopping. Two,
Shopping with his wife. He was trudging around a supermarket
pushing a trolley, trying to tune out his wife.

'Shall
we try this coffee?' his wife asked.

'What?'

'Shall I
take my clothes off and run down the aisles shouting decaf or not
decaf?'

'Definitely naked.'

'Dale?'

'I meant
not decaf. I mean, what is the point of that? It's like saying
steak or meatless steak.'

'Aisle
three. Next to the tofu. Meatless steak.'

'This is
a sick, sick world.'

'You
don't really want to be here, do you?'

'Oh.
That's a rotten question to ask a husband. I lie through my teeth
and say yes, I want to be here, you know I'm lying, I'm in trouble.
I say , no, I don't want to be here, I'm still in trouble. Not
fair.'

'So
answer your phone.'

'No.
It's my day off.'

'Decaf
or not decaf.'

Andersen
answered his phone. 'Right. On my way. Sorry about
this.'

'Liar.
Go.'

It was a
personal best from shopping trolley to car to police headquarters.
Andersen changed from domesticated slave with a trolley and a piece
of overused plastic, to a seasoned police professional, ready and
eager to kick bad guy ass. Then reality hit him. This was big. Very
big.

Detective Senior Sergeant Noah Travis and Detective Sergeant
Josh Friar were waiting for him. 'Tactical are on the scene,' said
Travis.

'Hancock?'

'Tiffin.'

'The
Darlington factory?'

Friar
said, 'I've talked to the owners. They spent millions on new
equipment a few months ago and scored several major new customers
and export orders. There's a finished order worth seven million
packed for despatch. Over three hundred jobs are at risk if the
place gets blown up.'

'The
demands?'

'Fifteen
million. They've been given until six this evening to think about
it.'

'Three
and a half hours. Better get over there.'

Senior
Sergeant Tim Tiffin looked nothing like Hancock. He was smaller in
stature and not so abrasive. Andersen knew that was an illusion.
The man was as sharp as a tack and deadly with any weapon including
his hands. His men responded to any mildly spoken order; total
respect had been earned over many years. Tiffin was not a man to
tangle with.

'Tim.
Any gunfire so far?'

'None.
They know we know they've been using remote controlled weapons.
There wouldn't be any point.'

'I
agree. I've seen how they set up the explosives. After Hancock
kicked in the back door of the last one, I'd expect all the
entrances to be booby trapped. They're watching us right now. We go
near the place, boom.'

'Not
bluffing?'

Andersen
said, 'If you had seen the Petrolex building, what was left of it,
you'd know the answer to that. And at the hotel job, I heard the
triggers to set off the explosives being activated. Three seconds
earlier, you and I wouldn't be having this
conversation.'

Tiffin
looked at the surrounding area. There were several high-rise
buildings, and possibly twenty places from where they could be
observed. In daylight, it would be sheer suicide to approach the
factory.

Two cars
pulled up and an officer got them to move back behind the Tactical
vehicles. The officer told Tiffin and Andersen of their arrival and
they went over to them.

'George
Maxwell,' said one man. 'General manager. 'This is David and Sean
Davenport. The owners.'

Andersen
said, 'This is Tim Tiffin, Tactical Enforcement leader. I'm
Detective Inspector Andersen. As you can see, we have the site
contained.'

'So I
see,' said Sean Davenport. 'Can you not storm the place and get the
sons of bitches out?'

'They
aren't in there,' said Tiffin. 'We have experience of their
methods. We are sure they have the explosives triggered to go off
by remote control.'

'They're
watching us?' Maxwell asked.

'Undoubtedly,' said Andersen. He checked his watch. 'Three
hours to the deadline. What are you thinking?'

'We
don't have the money,' said David Davenport. 'We sank all we had
into the factory. Quite a lot of the bank's money, too.'

'Hmm.
Not much in the way of options,' said Andersen.

Maxwell
asked, 'So. If they are around here somewhere, can't you get men
searching for them?'

Tiffin
said, 'We could. But as they are probably watching our every move,
if we go looking for them, kiss your factory goodbye.'

Sean
Davenport said, 'Years of building up the business, millions
invested, good orders coming in and three hundred top employees.
I'll be devastated if we lose it all now.'

Maxwell
asked, 'Is there any possibility it's a bluff?'

As if in
reply, an explosion shook the ground and everyone ducked for cover.
As the dust settled, they could see one large window had been blown
out. The damage was minimal.

Tiffin
said, 'That was just to let us know they're deadly
serious.'

Chapter 27

'A bit
tame, so far,' said Morris. 'Two Red's sent off.'

'Dirty
rotten cheats,' said Crowe.

'One
Blue sent off.'

'Blind
referee. Think Billy Knocker will have permanent brain
damage?'

'Who'd
notice?' said Morris. 'Probably just concussion. He should never
have head-butted that linesman. What's the score?'

'They
score these games?'

'I
always thought so.' The electronic scoreboard told him what he
wanted to know. 'Twenty one to nineteen. We might win this
one.'

'Here we
go. Second half.'

Two mud
and blood covered teams exchanged punches as they emerged from the
tunnel, and the ref let the captains go toe to toe for five minutes
before blowing his whistle. The crowd booed as they were enjoying
the fight more than the game. Somebody found the ball and after the
kick off, the Red's striker was wrestled to the ground by three
Blue's. A linesman got stuck in and pulled two Blue's off him. A
dazed Red scored but in the wrong goal. The medics ran on with a
stretcher and took the unconscious linesman off the
pitch.

Morris
and Crowe were all set to enjoy the second half when a worried
looking man approached them.

'Excuse
me. Detectives Crowe and Morris?'

Morris
groaned. 'Not for at least thirty five minutes.'

'I'm Rod
Marlow. Stadium manager. Mind if I have a word?'

'Mr
Marlow,' said Morris. 'We are enjoying the game on our day
off.'

'I
appreciate that, but I have just had a rather disturbing call.' The
rest he whispered into Morris's ear. Morris jabbed Crowe in the
ribs and indicated he was to follow him and Marlow. His response
was drowned out by the roar as a Blue took his team into the lead
by one point. Marlow took the detectives along a corridor under the
stands to his office.

'Tell me
it's a hoax.'

'Sorry,
Mr Marlow,' said Morris. 'I don't think so.'

Marlow
closed his eyes and shook his head. 'I was hoping it was somebody
just wanting to ruin the game. That would have been bad
enough.'

Crowe
said, 'What exactly was said?'

Marlow
explained, 'About twenty minutes ago. To my phone here. He said
explosives were in place all around the stadium. We have until the
end of the game to agree to pay thirty million or the lot goes
up.'

'Shit!'
said Crowe.

Morris
asked,'How did you find us?'

'The man
knew where you were sitting. He said you would tell me to take this
seriously.'

'I do,'
said Morris, then on his phone. 'Dale. Me and Vince are at the big
game. The gang has it loaded with explosives. Yes. the entire
stadium, they say. We have until the end of the game to agree to
pay thirty million. Shall we try an orderly evacuation? Dale?
Right. Sit tight. I'll be right here.'

'Well?'
said Crowe.

'D I
Andersen is already out with Tactical at the old Darlington
factory. That's full of explosives too, apparently. He's with
Tiffin. He's organising Hancock to surround the
stadium.'

'They're
hitting two places at once?' said Crowe.

'Looks
that way. They've already had one explosion over there just to
prove a point. But that's just an empty factory. Nobody will get
hurt. Here we have eighty thousand people.'

Marlow
said, 'It isn't just the explosives. A stampede will see many
people killed and hurt.'

'We're
aware of that, Mr Marlow,' said Morris. 'For now, we need to stay
calm. Do you make this decision about payment?'

'Me? I
take care of the stadium. Everything from arranging the games to
making sure there's enough toilet paper. I do not approve payments
of thirty million to criminals. The directors are in their own
box.'

'Then I
suggest you get busy talking to them. He said we have until the end
of the game, right?'

'Yes,'
said Marlow.

'Then we
need a longer game. Vince. We need to talk to the ref. Extend the
game.'

They
left Marlow to find the directors and made their way to the tunnel
entrance.

Crowe
said, 'We can't just go out there. This is being televised. They
see us two trying to influence the game, boom boom.'

'Good
point.' Morris saw a hot dog seller with a tray of dogs. 'Oi. You.
Come here.'

'One
each? Ketchup? Mustard?'

Crowe
grabbed a couple of dogs.

Morris
said, 'Go get the ref. Tell him to come over here.'

Dog man
scratched his head. 'What? There's a bloody game on.'

Morris
flashed his badge. 'You. Ref. Now.'

'Are you
paying for those?'

'Send us
an invoice,' said Morris. 'Move it.'

Dog man
walked to the end of the tunnel. Before him were three separate
fights going on. The ref was kicking a Blue's player in the ribs
when the dog man walked up. The ref grabbed a hot dog.

'Thanks.
What?'

'Some
bloody cops over there want a word.'

'Yeah?
We got the final going on here, in case they hadn't
noticed.'