The Purple Haze (3 page)

As he left the café he looked around. He saw no police cars so he headed over the road to the car park and got into the van. He slid the key into the ignition and put on his seatbelt. He checked his mirrors again. He went to turn the key but it was then that he saw something very strange. A thick fog was coming at him, so thick it looked like smoke, but the strange thing was that it had a purple hue to it. He watched, mesmerised as it came, a wall of deep purple fog that swallowed everything that it came across. It would only be a few seconds before it was on him. He didn't feel afraid, but definitely felt uneasy about this. He held his breath as the cloud consumed his van. He saw nothing after that.

Chapter 2

Martin was panicking inside. This was the worst situation he had ever been in. He had stood at the window and watched the police arrive and then he watched the perimeter being set up, three units of armed response officers, two at the front behind the two cars on the street and one team that had moved out of sight. He could only guess that they were being moved behind the building in case they tried to make a break for it out the back way. Either that or they would be making a two pronged breach on the building. He hoped it wouldn't come to that. That would mean a gun fight, and people dying. He hated the thought of it. He felt bad enough dragging that young woman away from her boyfriend, kicking and screaming for him to help her, only for him to be hit in the head by the stock of Conner's rifle. To then parade the girl in front of the police with his gun against her head made him sick to his stomach.

Not only did he have these emotions inside him, he also had the overwhelming sense of betrayal to contend with. It would seem that Gaz was feeling the same. “One, how the hell could he just drive off like that?” he said. “He didn't even look at us.”

“
I don't know, Three,” Martin replied, “but if we get out of this I'll be sure to ask him before I blow his balls off.” Martin looked over to Dave who was stood in front of the shutters to the counter.

“
Four?!” he kept shouting. “Can you hear me?!”

“
Of course he can't hear you those shutters are sound proof, you prat!” shouted Conner. “Give it a bloody rest and get over here for Christ's sake, help us figure this out.”

Dave wondered over. “What do we do if we can't get him out of there, One?”

“
Look, Dave,” said Conner, “enough of this 'One' crap. It doesn't matter if we can get him out or not because none of us getting out of here.”

“
Hey, don't tell everyone my name!” shouted Dave.

“
Both of you shut up!” ordered Martin. Dave and Conner quietened down. “Two, do not say anyone else's name at all. These people have nothing on us, okay. We will figure out how to get out and then we will get Four. We aren't going to leave him behind.”

“
What do you have in mind One?” asked Gaz.

“
They know we have hostages, they know we need an exit,” replied Martin, “They have seven minutes left before the deadline's up.”

“
Then what?” asked Conner. He leaned in closer to whisper to Martin. “You know we won't kill any of these people, so if they call our bluff, we are screwed. Game over.”

Martin paused a moment. “Well let's hope to God that doesn't happen. Now go and watch those people over there. I need to give a reminder to those idiots out there.” The team dispersed and Martin got another piece of paper. He wrote the words “6 minutes. We want a van.” He went and held up the window. He then got the response over the bullhorn. “Give us one hostage just to show that you are willing to deal, and then we will see what we can do.” Martin shook his head in response and moved away from the window.

On the other side of the security screen, Colin was still in shock. He was holding his gun, pointing it at the banker who was still on his knees, but he couldn't help looking at the dead man on the floor, killed by his hand. How was he ever going to get through this? He was contained in what was supposed to be a safe place, yet it was his prison. He was a thief and a murderer. When the police took him, he would be going away for life. The guilt was too much. “I'm sorry,” he said.

“
What?” said banker.

“
I said I'm sorry. This wasn't supposed to happen.” Colin was still looking at the corpse. “What was his name?”

“
Simon.”

“
Simon,” repeated Colin “What's your name?”

“
Craig.”

“
You got a family, Craig?” asked Colin

Craig was wondering what was going on. The man in the scary mask really didn't sound so scary. “No.”

Colin didn't respond directly to the comment. He paused briefly. “Well, Craig, my name's Colin” Craig watched as Colin lowered his gun and began to pull his mask off. He had wondered what the man in the mask would look like behind it, but he was surprised at what he saw. Although Colin was only twenty six, he looked much older. He had quite a gaunt face, with frown lines on his forehead and thinning red hair. His nose was pointy and his eyes almost black in colour. Craig had pictured a chiselled jaw, blue eyes and a toned face, but what he saw was quite a less than average, sorry looking man.

This wasn't what Colin had signed up for. Killing people was against what any of them believed in. Man handling was acceptable, but killing was a massive no. He motioned Craig to put his hands down. “You can put your hands down, I'm not going to hurt you,” he said.

Craig lowered his hands. He no longer felt afraid. Simon had been killed by a crazed masked gunman but that man was gone and now he was in the presence of a broken, emotional man. “What happens now?” he asked.

Colin looked up at the screens separating the small room they were in from the main customer area of the bank. He wanted so badly to back with his comrades. “Can you lower these screens?” he asked.

“
No.”

Colin sighed. “Then we just wait.” He looked at Simon's corpse again, and then sat in the corner against the wall. Craig sat in the opposite corner staring at him.

Back in the front of the bank, Dave was standing with Conner and Gaz watching the civilians. The bank employee from the office was looking at him. It seemed to take forever, but he could tell she was plucking up the courage to speak. She finally did. “Dave, is that your name?” she asked.

“
Shut up,” said Dave in a blunt voice.

“
Dave, my name's Yvonne. I'm the deputy manager here.” she said.

“
Shut up!” said Dave, a little more forceful this time.

“
I know what you’re doing, but it's just these people can't offer you anything. Let them go and keep me, I can talk to people, try and get you something extra, maybe...”

Dave cut her short, “Shut your mouth! Don't talk to me and don't use my name!”

“
Keep your girlfriend under control, will you Dave?” said Conner.

“
You shut up too, arsehole!”

Martin felt the need intervene again. “Two, Five, both of you shut up! This isn't helping. Just keep watching them. We have three minutes until the deadline is up.” He walked back to the window to see what was happening. The police hadn't moved. In the time since the last message was given, two ambulances had turned up. “Great,” he thought, “this means the police aren't going to give in and are expecting a fight.” His heart had hit the bottom of his bowel. He knew it for sure now that there was no way out. Not without a fight. He checked his watch. Two minutes left. Two minutes before the police would be expecting him to kill a hostage, a threat he knew he would never follow through on. As soon as they realised he wasn't going to follow through, they would breach the perimeter and come and get them. Then he would have a long, long time behind bars.

* * *

At the rear of the bank, the armed response officers were awaiting their orders. Among them was Thomas James. James was a family man. He had a beautiful wife that he had been with for the past six years. They had two daughters, whom he loved dearly. He had a very well paid job, which allowed his wife to work only two days a week so that she could stay at home and raise the children. The morning started out as any other day. He kissed his wife and children goodbye, and then set off on the three mile run to work.

Work was like most other days at work. He sat at his desk and filled out the necessary paperwork that was required at the start of each day. He met up with his team, and they discussed the previous day’s events and what they had done the previous evening. He went with them to collect the keys to their vehicle, they checked their personal kit and set off out for the day on the road.

His role in his team was the navigator. Basically, if they had to go to a job, he would be the one who points out the best route to get there. He knew the local area within twenty square miles like the back of his hand, but he also had to know the conditions of the roads for that specific day. To do this, he had to liaise with local highways agencies on a daily basis so he would know where road works were and which roads would be closed. Time of day was also paramount as well. If schools were leaving, he would have to know the routes to be able to avoid those areas because speed was of the essence.

The other two men in his team had their own jobs too. The driver's job was to drive the vehicle and follow James' directions to the letter, but taking into account the safety of the general public. The observer's job was to liaise with other services on the scene of a job, but if a job was too big, he could request extra teams if required.

Yes, the day was going well. Nothing much had happened so far and the three men were talking general chit chat for the most part. James was even looking forward to getting home on time spending another evening with his wife and children. However, they received a call over the radio just after three pm. The instructions were to proceed immediately to Hough Lane. James picked up the radio. “This is car seventeen, proceeding to sight, over,” he said.

“
Bank robbery in progress, assailants are believed to be armed. ACPO authorisation granted to use reasonable force,” the voice replied.

“
How many teams, over?” asked James.

“
You and two other teams. Inspector Myers is overseeing the operation.”

“
Car seventeen on our way. Over and out.” James put down the radio and turned to the driver. “Get us to Hough Lane, ASAP. Take Churchill Way and come in the east side, the local primary will be emptying now.” The driver slid the car into gear and set off at speed. James switched the sirens on and sat back in his seat.

Twenty minutes later and James was now positioned behind the bank on Hough Lane taking cover behind a dumpster. The rest of his team was with him. Their job was to watch the back of the bank in case the thieves inside tried to make a break out the back exit. ACPO had given them authorisation for 'use of reasonable force', so they had taken the MP5 sub-machine guns from the back locker of their armed response vehicle. His orders were to detain on sight, which meant only to use lethal force if there was immediate danger to life. He hated doing it, but several times in the past he'd had to shoot a criminal in the shoulder or leg to stop them from killing someone else. He was just waiting now, feeling quite gutted that he wouldn't get home on time.

* * *

Back at the front of the bank, inspector Myers was watching closely. He had been just about able to make out a scuffle inside in which it appeared that the criminals were fighting amongst themselves. He would never say it out loud, but he kind of hoped that they would just shoot each other and get this over with. At least that way there would be no innocent bystanders. But the scuffle had been resolved by the stocky looking man who he had been communicating with since he first spoke through the loud speaker. He turned to Ken. “The deadline passed one minute ago, what the hell is going on in there?”

“
No idea, sir,” said Ken, “but you might want to try and find some way of ending this soon in case they carry out their threat.”

Myers looked around at the scene again. He picked up the bullhorn and addressed the robbers again. “The deadline you gave us has passed, what are your demands?” He waited for a response, but the stocky man didn't return the window. “Please respond,” he said through the horn, but he got nothing. He hadn't heard any gunfire. He picked up his radio. “Team two, this is Inspector Myers, please respond.”

“
This is team two, James speaking, over,” replied a voice.

“
James, has there been any movement at the rear of the bank, over?” he asked.

“
No sir, no contact here, over,” said James.

“
Okay, prepare for breach in five minutes. All teams prepare for breach in five minutes, over.” He put the radio down and turned to Ken. “Tell the paramedics to stand ready,” he ordered. Ken jogged over to the paramedics to pass on the message. Myers looked back at the bank and took a deep breath. “OK, this is it,” he said to himself.

At the west end of the street, Mike Heys was carrying out his given role to the best of his ability. The only side of the job he had never liked was that people didn't take PCSO's seriously. He had been telling the public for the past twenty minutes that there was an extremely dangerous situation and that they needed to move along, but still they all lingered. He kept looking back over his shoulder to see what the situation was, but due the sheer volume of people, he couldn't look long enough to see anything of interest.