Slow Burn (30 page)

Runcorn Bridge

CHAPTER 53

It was dark when Ashwan woke. He could feel the wind buffeting the car, but he couldn’t remember what car he was in. Rain bounced off the roof and it sounded like he was in a car wash. There were flashing lights all around him and he couldn’t understand why. His head ached and his limbs were stiff, as if he had pins and needles everywhere. He was in the driving seat of a BMW. The brand emblem in the centre of the steering wheel told him that. He wasn’t one hundred percent sure, but it smelled like Malik`s car. His strong Armani cologne lingered in the vehicle. Above him, a colossal steel archway was illuminated against the night sky. He looked left beyond the handrail, and the abyss the other side of it. A dark sandstone railway bridge stretched off into the distance. Huge medieval shields adorned the giant towers, Britannia`s crest emblazoned on them. He was parked on Runcorn Bridge, but he couldn’t for the life of him think why. To his left was a highway patrol vehicle, an officer was placing plastic cones around the vehicle to guide the traffic into the outside lanes. His memory began to come back to him. He remembered the kidnap, and he remembered accepting a lift from a highway patrol. It was a blank after that. Had Malik come for him after the ransom drop?

 “Hello, Ashwan,” Richard Bernstein said. He sat in the back of the BMW. “You don’t look so good.”

 “Who are you?” Ashwan tried to turn around in the seat, and then he realised that he was strapped to the seat with thick elastic bungee cords. “What the fuck is going on?” he struggled against the restraints.

 “Oh, don’t you remember me, Ash?” Richard put a silenced Mac-10 against the back of his head and smiled at him in the rear view mirror. “I remember you every time I take a shower. I still have the scars.”

Ashwan stared at him in the mirror. His face was in the shadows but the flashing lights illuminated it momentarily. He was dark haired and fat. There was something familiar about him, but he couldn’t place it.

“I don’t know you,” Ash began to think that this was part of the kidnap. His head was beginning to clear a little. “Did you take my son? Where is he? What do you want, more money?”

“Your son is home, safe and sound, only now he knows what a murdering rapist tosspot his father is.”

“He`s home?” Ash looked confused. They had lived up to their side of the bargain. “So why am I here, you going to ransom me now too?” 

“No, we`re past the money stage, Ash, we want to see you rot in hell with your rapist friends. I just want you to know who is behind this, before you die.”

“Rapists?” Ash frowned. “What are you talking about?” Then it hit him like a steam train travelling at full speed. “Richard Bernstein?”

“Well done.”

“Look, I had nothing to do with your sister dying.”

“You did, Ashwan. You are as guilty as Shah is. You raped her at that party didn’t you?”

 “I didn’t,” Ashwan realised what it had all been about now. They were clueless why they were being wiped out and now he knew. “The others did, but I didn’t touch her.”

“Bye, Ashwan,” Richard pressed the muzzle hard against his head. “Mamood and your wife will know the truth about you by now, and I bet they don’t shed a tear over you.”

 “Wait,” Ashwan, gasped. “Wait, please, look I`ll give you whatever amount of money you want. I`m sorry for what I did to you and I`m sorry about your sister.”

 “Sorry doesn’t cut it, excuse the pun.” Richard leaned forward pressing the muzzle harder behind his ear. “Admit the truth. Did you rape Sarah?” Richard hit him with the gun. “Think very carefully what you`re answer will be, you have got seconds to live you maggot.”

“Okay, okay, please,” Ashwan was panicking. His eyes filled with tears and his lips started quivering.

“Are you scared?”

“What?”

“Are you scared?”

“Of course I am, you`ve already murdered the others, but I can give you millions. You could call it compensation. I have a wife and child, Richard. I`ve changed.”

 “Sarah had a family and a child inside her when you maggots raped her. I don’t think your wife is going to be around very long when she finds out the truth, do you?”

  “Name your price, three million, four?”

  “Did you rape Sarah, last chance?”

 “Yes, and I`m sorry, Richard,” Ashwan Pindar was about to apologise again when Richard pulled the trigger. A nine-millimetre bullet drilled its way through the seat and tore through the base of his spine. It ricocheted off his pelvis and travelled down his thigh, tearing muscle and ligament tissue, before ripping of a chunk of kneecap off as it exited. Ashwan tried to scream but Richard gagged him with a gloved hand.

  “You`re sorry, Ash?” Richard yanked his head sideways. “Do you see that safety rail?”

 Ashwan nodded his head rapidly. Tears flowed freely down his face and mucus bubbles blew from his nostrils.

 “Sarah jumped from there. Can you imagine how scared she was when you fucking pigs raped her one at a time?” Richard pulled his head backward hard. “Can you imagine how scared she was before she tossed herself over there, can you?”

Ashwan gritted his teeth and tried to fight through the pain barrier. His clothes and the seat beneath him were soaked with his blood. He was going to bleed to death in minutes, and he knew it. The highway patrol officer looked in the window and saw the gun and the blood. Ashwan thought he would intervene and call him an ambulance, but he ignored his pleading expression and laughed. An ambulance pulled alongside and the highway patrol officer moved the cones and let it pull in. Ashwan was confused when the officer looked at him and winked his eye. He lifted a hand and waved goodbye to him as darkness crept through his mind. Richard Bernstein unclipped the elastic cords and let him slump against the steering wheel. 

CHAPTER 54

THE FARM

The decision was made to raid the farm under the cover of darkness. Ashwan Pindar and Malik Shah were both missing and concerns for their safety were not shared by everyone. Alec Ramsay was convinced that they were either hiding, kidnapped as Mamood had been, or they were the latest victims of the Mosque bombers. The farm owned by Richard Bernstein was situated in a wide valley with gentle grassy slopes leading down to the stream, which flowed through it. Thick woodland formed the perimeter of the farm. The armed response unit were ready to move, but Alec wasn’t happy. There were no lights on in the farmhouse or any of the other outbuildings.

 “It looks to me like there`s no one home,” Alec said, looking through night sights. Thermal imaging was picking up nothing either. “I`m concerned that the place will be booby trapped.”

 “They could be in the cellar system,” Will commented, looking at the plans of the building. “We wouldn’t see a heat trail down there would we?”

“No, not with this equipment,” Inspector Green, replied. He was the unit leader on call with the armed response team. “We could check the outbuildings first, Alec, and then take it from there?”

 “Okay start with the stable block here, and keep your eyes open. This bomb maker is in a different league,” Alec frowned, deepening the creases in his face. He swept the blond fringe from his face and let out a deep breath. There would be plenty more grey strands on his head when this case was all over, that was for certain. “The bomb squad have finished with the yard, yes?”

“Yes, Guv, they`ve swept it and found nothing.”

 “Move in.”

Alec and Will donned bulletproof jackets and followed the armed unit as they advanced toward the farm buildings. The farm was silent apart from the sound of the water running through it. Armed officers wearing full body armour, Kevlar helmets and combat boots moved silently in a four by four, cover formation. One unit approached the stables, while another unit readied by the barn.

“Black one, ready to penetrate,” came over the coms unit.

“Black two, ready,” the second troop called in.

“Roger that, you have a green light.”

The doors were opened and the armed officers swooped through them with practised ease. Torch light flickered as they moved through the buildings.

“Black one, clear.”

“Black two, clear.”

“Roger that.”

  Alec and Will looked through the outbuildings they had searched, as the troops prepared to search the workshops and enter the farmhouse. They were empty. There wasn’t a cobweb or a layer of dust to be seen.

 “This isn’t right,” Alec said. “The place is spotless.”

“It`s the cleanest farm I`ve ever seen,” Will said. “Not that I`ve seen many, but this place has been scrubbed from top to bottom, recently.”

“I think whatever they were doing here is already done,” Alec said. They walked across the farmyard and waited for the armed officers to breach the farmhouse. Alec remembered the van at the Mosque. It was clean as were the other devices that the bombers had used. They left no evidence behind them wherever they operated. He didn’t think that the farm would be any different, unless they had left any nasty surprises.

 “Superintendent, we`re ready to move into the workshop and the farmhouse,” the Inspector called on the coms.

  “Move in, but leave the cellar areas for now,” Alec had a bad feeling about it. The lengths that the Bernsteins had gone to not to leave any evidence was just one indicator of how much planning they had put into the attacks.

 “Roger that.”

 “Black one, ready.”

 “Black two, ready.”

 “Roger that, green light.”

The armed officers moved like shadows and the support teams held their breath and waited for the `clear`, call to come. Long minutes went by as the teams searched the workshop.

  “Black two, workshop clear.”

  “Roger that.”

  Alec glanced at his watch as torchlight flickered from inside the farmhouse. Eventually the call came through the coms.

  “Black one, the farmhouse is clear.”

  “Roger that.”

  Alec skipped the workshops and headed into the house. It had been stripped of furniture and ornaments, and cleaned from top to bottom. There wasn’t a light bulb or lampshade left anywhere.

  “Is it the same upstairs?” Alec asked.

  “Roger that, Guv, It`s empty. It doesn’t look like it`s been used for years up there.” 

“Mamood said he thought he might have been underground, because there were no windows, and no noise,” Will thought aloud. “Ashwan Pindar and Malik Shah could be down there now, and so could the bombers.”

  “I don’t like this, something isn’t right,” Alec turned to Will. “Get everyone out of here. I want the bomb squad in to sweep the cellars first.”

 “We should check that it`s safe down there first, Superintendent,” Inspector Green was disappointed that his teams wouldn’t be the first in. “I must insist armed response sweep first, Sir.”

  “Get your men out of the building and pull everyone back a hundred yards, and do it now,” Alec growled across the coms network. “Captain Bishpam, I want one officer in the blast suit to check out the basement. There`s something not right here and the bombers haven’t put a foot wrong so far.”

  Captain Bishpam was an officer in the Army. The Royal Logistics Core were the world`s foremost Explosive Ordinance Disposal experts. He was seconded to the police bomb squad, as an advisor, and a trainer. Bishpam had three tours of Iraq, and two tours of Afghanistan behind him, and he missed being in the front line. He felt as if he was letting his Army unit down being on secondment with the police. Members of the logistics core were dying every week trying to make safe improvised devices in Afghanistan, and he felt that he should there alongside them. His police team were good, loyal and brave, but they had little real experience of locating and defusing terrorist devices. He was the most experienced member by far, and as such, he would wear the suit. The blast suit was a full body armour kit designed to protect technicians who were looking for or defusing bombs. They were nicknamed Demon Suits, because of the high number of men that died wearing them. The reality of the situation was that if you were in the blast radius of a bomb, with or without the Demon Suit, then you were dead. Bishpam wouldn’t allow anyone to don that suit in live theatre, except himself.

 “Roger, Superintendent, I`ll check it out myself, give me ten minutes to climb into it,” the Captain said. He was aware of the skill of the bomber, he`d been called to every scene to inspect the devices, or what was left of them. “You got a hunch, Alec?”

 “It`s not right, Captain. Why clean down the outbuildings and the stables?”

  “You`ve got me there,” the Captain sounded muffled as he struggled into the heavy suit. The clumsy suit offered bomb technicians a small amount of protection during reconnaissance procedures. It protected from fragmentation, blast pressure and the thermal and tertiary effects of an explosion, but their effectiveness was limited if a device detonated in close proximity. “What are you thinking?”

“Let`s say they were done here. If they were going to level the place and they had left anything in the buildings above ground, then there would be evidence left in the rubble, right?” Alec explained his hunch on the coms. The officers of every unit there could hear them, and he made sense. “Anything below the buildings could be destroyed with say, incendiary devices maybe?”