Go Out With A Bang! (4 page)

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Authors: Gary Weston

Tags: #terrorists thrillers action thrillers special forces, #terrorists plots, #terrorists attack

BOOK: Go Out With A Bang!
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'Inspector. We all know what happened to the Petrolex
building. This has been nearly two years in the planning. I say we
negotiate.'

Andersen
said, 'Mr Goldstein. We are not ruling that out. Normally I would
advise against dealing, but considering what happened last time, we
have to be open to anything giving us a positive result. We have to
find a way to deal with them. Have they contacted you since the
first call?'

'No.
Twenty million is their demand. My brother and I have already
called our insurance company and got nothing but waffle and back
peddling. They class it as an act of terrorism. They say they want
to see the police handle things and it's our choice to pay up or
not. I do not want to be in the position of seeing my lovely hotel
die and have the insurance company wash their hands of things.
Either you police get our hotel back in one piece, or we pay the
money and get on with our business.'

'I
understand, Mr Goldstein,' said Andersen. 'Believe me. We want the
gang behind bars and your hotel in one piece. How are you supposed
to contact them?'

'No
instructions on how the money is to paid have yet been given. Once
we agree, they say they will contact my brother and I. David is at
home waiting for their call. We have been given midnight tonight as
the deadline and they have threatened to destroy it if we refuse to
pay. And I think we know what happened to the last building they
took over.'

'This is
our dilemma Mr Goldstein. We are almost certain this is a different
gang. The ones in the Petrolex job were killed in the explosion.
Had to be.'

Suddenly
a burst of gunfire from the hotel made everyone dive for cover. It
was a short lived spray of bullets, that thudded into the ground
well short of the surrounding police officers. It was just a wake
up call.

'They
seem pretty bloody lively to me,' said Goldstein, walking off to
his Bentley to call his brother.

Andersen
had resigned himself to another long night. Morris and Crowe joined
him.

Morris
said, 'Are we just going to spend the night being shot
at?'

Andersen
asked,'What's Hancock say?'

'Keep
them surrounded for as long as it takes. If they want to come out,
they do it with their hands in the air. Oh. And he says if anyone
mentions overtime pay, he's going home.'

Crowe
said, 'He'll not be risking any of his men in chopper drops onto
the roof this time. Can't say I blame him.'

Andersen
said, 'He's playing it safe. The Goldstein brothers are for dealing
with them. If they do that, it doesn't mean we all go home and let
them walk away with millions.' He checked his watch. 'We have
nearly two and a half hours before the Goldstein's have to make the
deal or not. Any progress finding Ducket?'

Morris
said, 'We have a couple of kids...I mean young detectives, trying
to get into Old Cranky. Nothing so far. Vince made an interesting
comment, though. The Ferret doesn't want us looking for him. The
complete lack of any clue is an indication of that.'

Another
burst of gunfire had them diving behind a Tactical
vehicle.

Andersen
growled, 'Those creeps are really beginning to piss me
off.'

 

Chapter 10

There
was no more gunfire from the windows of the hotel. Andersen had
talked on the phone to the Goldstein brothers. They were adamant
the best way out was to pay the money and get on with their lives.
They had talked to the top executive at their insurance company,
trying to strike a compromise about who would pay out what. The
brothers had tried a fifty fifty compromise for agreeing the twenty
million payout against many millions more for the value of the
hotel, should it be blown up. All they got was a vague comment
about not setting a precedent by dealing and to leave it up to the
police to resolve the situation.

To the
frustrated brothers, this was wasn't helpful and after making
promises to change their insurance company, regardless of outcome,
they decided to pay out the money. Their bank manager had been
informed, and the money was made available. They were going to
deal.

Andersen, Crowe and Morris sat on deckchairs well out of
range, staring at the lit up hotel. To keep his officers on their
toes, Hancock had them rotating with each other on a regular basis
and doing strange and seemingly unnecessary things to make sure
they kept alert.

Morris
yawned and checked his watch for the fifth time in as many minutes.
A Tactical officer approached him out of the shadows.

'Detective Morris?'

'Here,'
said Morris.

'I have
this for you.' The officer behind the dark visor handed Morris an
envelope.

Morris
took the envelope, opened it and read the four words. 'Shit. Hey.
where did this come...from?' The fully armed and armoured officer
had gone.

'Stan?'
Andersen said.

Morris
said, 'Here,' and passed the note over.

'Shit.'
He read it aloud. 'The hotel is empty. F.'

They
were on their feet and running to Hancock.

'What?'
snapped the giant.

'This.
The hotel is empty. F,' said Andersen.

Which
was the exact second another volley of shots blasted the hotel
lawns.

'That
sound empty to you?' said Hancock.

'John,
one of your officers just handed this over to us,' said
Morris.

'Nope.'

Crowe
said, 'John. Hello. Dressed in fashionable black Tactical armour,
matching accessories like a helmet and a visor...Oh.'

'Kaching,' said Hancock. 'One of yours, dressed up as one of
mine. That was the Ferret.'

 

Chapter 11

'Am I
following this,' said Crowe, struggling to keep up. 'The one who
gave us this note was Ferret?'

'F,'
said Morris. 'Either Fred, or Ferret.'

'Right.
So why didn't he just say, sorry I'm a bit late, guys. By the way.
The hotel is empty.'

'Because,' said Andersen. 'He
doesn't want us involved in what ever it is
he's
doing.'

'And it
makes sense,' said Morris. 'Any bodies been found yet at the
Petrolex site?'

'Not
yet,' said Crowe.

'And
that's because the building was empty. like this one.'

'So who
is doing the shooting?' Crowe asked.

Hancock
said, 'A remote controlled weapon. The operator is out of the
actual building, firing at the press of a button.'

'So why
blow up the first one, the Petrolex building?' Crowe
asked.

Andersen
said, 'Because the owner refused to cough up the money. Either that
or just an accident.'

'We have
just forty two minutes before the deadline,' said Morris. 'What do
we do now?'

Hancock
said, 'We could defuse the explosives.'

'How,
exactly?' asked Andersen.

'We go
inside, snip a few wires, job done,' said Hancock.

'Whose
this we?' Crowe said. 'Are you kidding? Going into a building
packed with explosives with a nut job with a finger on the
button?'

'There aren't individual radio
controlled triggers,' explained Hancock. 'Trust me on that. There
will be
a
control unit, controlled by a radio frequency. There'll be
wires from that sending a low current to detonators and boom. We
just need to find the central control. It will completely disarm
all the explosives.'

Andersen
said, 'There are over two hundred rooms in that place. We
have...forty three minutes and you want us to go in
there?'

'We can
do this,' said Hancock.

'There's that
we
again,' said Crowe.
'I really gotta read my employment contract one of these
days.'

'Question. In fact two questions,' said Morris. 'One. We
can't turn any lights on in there. They'll be watching. Also, how
do we get across to the hotel lit up like a Christmas tree. Again.
They'll be watching.'

Hancock
said, 'We have night vision goggles. Carver.'

'Sir.'

'Four
night vision goggles. Go.'

Carver
was back in thirty five seconds with the helmets and Hancock handed
three of them to the detectives. 'One size fits nobody. Now for the
illuminations. Watch this.' He spoke into his helmet radio. 'Kill
all the lights.' The huge searchlights going out made everything
instantly dark. 'Do I go in alone, or do I have you suits for
company?'

'Let's
do this,' said Andersen.

Following the super-fit Hancock running effortlessly across
the lawns to the rear of the hotel was the first challenge. Dodging
in and out of the shadows, they were in pitch darkness and out of
sight. All three suits were panting like they had run a
marathon.

'How...How...How do we get inside?' gasped
Andersen.

One well
planted boot at a service door answered that question. They were
inside. It took a moment to acclimatise to the night vision
goggles. Hancock dropped low ready to shoot anything that moved.
'Nobody not pleased to see us. I like that.' He raced through the
rooms and then stopped by a front facing window. 'Check this
out.'

'Wow,'
said Crowe, taking a closer look. It was a box, simple on the
outside, a whole world of tricks on the inside. The adapted
automatic assault rifle pointed out of the window. It was on a
loose swivel that allowed the weapon to move with the repercussion
force of each shot, giving the illusion of being controlled by a
human. A crude cardboard cutout of a man's head and shoulders
enhancing that illusion. 'That is a serious piece of...' The weapon
suddenly blasted several shots off, and Crowe fell backwards to the
floor. 'Shit!'

'You
okay?' said Morris.

'I'll
let you know if my heart starts beating again.'

Hancock
was on his radio again. 'All lights on. Repeat. All lights on.' A
few seconds later, all the searchlights were back on. 'Hopefully,
they'll just think it was a generator glitch, now
fixed.'

An
unhappy Crowe asked, 'How do we find this central
trigger?'

Hancock
said, 'There'll be a thin wire going to each load of explosives. We
just need to find one load, and trace the wire to the central
control. My guess is the charges will be in all the corners, so the
strong points would be weakened, causing maximum damage. I'll take
this floor. You each take another floor. Check the corners and
outer walls more than anything. You have radios in your helmets.
Find anything, stay put, radio in. We'll all hear each other.
Go.'

The
detectives raced up the stairs, peeling off one by one as they
reached the other floors. The minutes were ticking away. They only
had twenty seven minutes left. They were in a hotel packed with
high explosives, with a man hidden in the shadows, his itchy finger
ready to blow them to kingdom come if the Goldstein's changed their
minds and refused to pay up.

'I must
be out of my skull,' mumbled Crowe. Back and forth he went,
checking all the walls, especially the corners. 'Where the hell are
those bloody explosives?'

'Nineteen minutes, people,' came Hancock's voice in his
helmet.

'You're
a frigging ray of sunshine,' Crowe replied.

The
search continued, unsuccessfully. 'Hey,' said Morris. 'Is it
possible there are no explosives in here?'

'Possible,' said Hancock. 'Keep looking.'

The men
kept searching, conscious of the seconds ticking away. 'Fourteen
minutes,' said Hancock.

'I think
we should bail out of here,' said Crowe.

'Go if
you want, Vince,' said Hancock.

'As if.
Hey. I have a wire. Coming out of a vent. The explosives are inside
the vents. Shit.'

'Stay
put,' said Hancock. The man mountain bounded up the stairs to find
Crowe.

'Here,'
said Crowe. 'I almost missed it. Blue tacked into the corner and
along the skirting board.'

Hancock
got down on his knees for a closer look at where the wire was
going. 'This way.' It was slow work with such a thin wire running
along the lip of the skirting board. 'Damn. Lost it.'

'Here,'
said Crowe. 'This way.'

Morris
and Andersen appeared and they helped trace the wire. It went down
the stairs, still along the skirting board. They followed it down
several flights of stairs, often on their hands and knees, finally
reaching the ground floor.

'Crap. I
lost it,' said Crowe.

'Four
minutes,' said Hancock. 'I have it. This way.'

There
was a narrow service stairs going down to a basement. Andersen
said, 'It goes under the door, right here.' He tried the door.
'Locked. Can you believe this?'

'This
door opens towards us. Can't kick it in,' said Hancock. 'Stand
back.' He blasted the lock with several shots. He grabbed the
handle and pulled hard. There was a grinding noise as shattered
wood and lock resisted his efforts. 'Come on, damn it.' The door
gave in and creaked open. 'One minute. Find the
controls.'

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