The Mark of Halam (22 page)

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Authors: Thomas Ryan

Tags: #Literature & Fiction, #Action & Adventure, #Mystery; Thriller & Suspense, #Crime, #Mystery, #Thriller & Suspense, #War & Military, #Thrillers & Suspense, #Military, #Spies & Politics, #Conspiracies, #Thriller, #Thrillers

BOOK: The Mark of Halam
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Red pulled out his phone.

Eyebrows arched. Heads turned, checking the reactions of the others. Feet shuffled. Tension mounted as each team member contemplated the reality of what was about to take place. They were all armed but none of them had ever been in an armed confrontation.

“Now the plan. Not a great one I’m afraid.” Cunningham smiled trying to make light of the situation. “We have to hold them until the STG get here. Jessica and Red, you will stay here and use the car to block off the lane.” Speaking directly to them both, he said, “Make sure no one gets past. If you hear gunfire take up a defensive position. Behind the vehicle would be best. Got that?”

They both nodded, but Cunningham picked up the puzzled looks.

“Lie on the ground or take cover so if they shoot your way they won’t hit anything. Now, once we’re in Ross and Jim will take up positions either side of the gate and cover our approach. Keep an eye on the second-floor window. They will have a lookout. Communicate our movements to Red and Jessica. Under no circumstances are any of you four to leave your posts. Okay, everyone check your weapons.”

They were all wearing bullet-proof vests. Cunningham waited a few moments for each of them to mentally prepare.

“You are joking aren’t you, Inspector,” Moana said, dumbfounded. “This is a job for your lot. The STG are on their way. We should wait. They’re trained for this, we aren’t.”

“By the time they get here these guys will have flown the coop.”

“The bad guys get away sometimes. That’s the lot of a police officer. We live with it.”

“Point taken, Sergeant, but this is not a normal situation. These assholes exploded a bomb and killed some friends of ours. We all know what these guys are. If they get away there is every chance it will lead to a gunfight on the street and people will die. You know that. It’s our job to protect the public whether they want us to or not. Now I’m going in. Are you with me or not?”

Moana glared then she pulled her gun.

“All right let’s do it,” Moana spat out. “But I think you can lead. I’ll be right behind you.”

The others nodded in agreement with their sergeant.

Cunningham smiled.

Red and Jessica watched Cunningham lead his group down the lane until they disappeared from sight, then they parked the police car in the lane and took up firing positions behind it.

Jamil stood and waited as his hands were again handcuffed behind his back. It hadn’t been so bad, he thought. He had told them everything he knew which, really, in the end wasn’t much. He had saved his family as was his duty and now he would be taken to prison. How long, he wondered. He was young. He would get through it. His knowledge of New Zealand prisons was favourable. They would be humane. The food would be good and there would be television. He wanted to shower. He smelt and it was disgusting. Yes, a hot shower right now would be welcome.

He was led outside. It was dark. He did not know whether it was early evening or early morning but then what did it matter. It was over and that was all that counted. It was good to breathe in the fresh air. The smell of pine needles a welcome aroma compared to the stench he had been forced to endure over the last few days. The bag was again placed over his head. Security. He understood the procedure. He allowed himself to be led. He counted off thirty metres. He waited for the sound of the car door to be opened. To his surprise, he felt himself falling. Confused and disorientated, he grunted as his shoulder hit the soft earth. What was happening? He tried to move his legs, his body, but it seemed to be confined by his surroundings. Horror replaced confusion as reality dawned. He was in a pit. He began to scream.

Caldwell stood above the freshly dug grave and looked down
at the screaming, struggling Jamil. He felt no sense of remorse. He
had lost those emotions long ago. Jamil was a merciless killer. He had killed many innocent people and he was in New Zealand to kill hundreds more. He should just shoot him and be done with it. But now Jamil had experienced how it felt to have death come calling, he might be more willing to talk on other matters. The CIA would be interested in how he was recruited and any other connections.

He turned to the three men behind him. “Drag him out of there and take him back to your base. Put him in a body bag so he doesn’t soil the vehicle.”

Everyone was in place.

“Okay, Moana, let’s do it.” Brian whispered.

They sprinted across the open area. Half way across the security lights flashed on. “Move it,” Cunningham yelled.

Shots rang out.

38.

M
ore shots followed the first.

Red and Jessica, feet glued to the pavement, stretched to look down the alley then turned to each other then back down the alley. Neither had heard gunfire except on the police training range. Confused minds struggled to accept a real live gun battle had erupted within metres of where they stood. A staccato burst.

“Jesus, bloody hell,” Red blurted. “That sounded like a machine gun. This is it.”

Jessica dived into the driver’s seat and picked up the microphone. Red pressed a button on the handheld radio.

“Inspector, come in. Inspector, are you there?” No answer. “Shit. Shit. Shit.”

Jessica returned to Red’s side. “The STG are on their way.” Her face was pale but she had her sidearm in her hand, knuckles white on the grip. Red noted her finger across the guard not on the trigger. As frightened as she was she wasn’t about to fall to pieces. And she wasn’t about to shoot him accidentally. Safety first and by the book.

“The Inspector isn’t answering.” They both looked down the lane. The shooting was heavier.

“Keep moving! Run to the wall!” Cunningham yelled.

The shots came from one of the upstairs windows. Cunningham
raced ahead, giving a lead to the others. They ran like him, weaving from side to side. Instinctively ducking but keeping running.

“Now drop to the ground!” he ordered as they made it to the safety of the warehouse roof overhangs. Now no one above could see them.

Cunningham did a quick head count. All accounted for. They were not in a good position and a squad of inexperienced amateurs fighting automatic weapons with handguns was a fight they were never going to win. His people had limited ammunition and who knew what other armaments the terrorists had. Rockets, and maybe hand grenades. Their only advantage was time. The terrorists would know that from the time they opened fire, reinforcements would be on the way.

Cunningham could hear Red screaming into his headset.

“Red. All is okay. No injuries, just lots of shooting.”

“You’re not kidding. The whole city must be able to hear it.”

“How about backup?”

“On the way, sir. Do you want us down there?”

“Stay where you are.”

Cunningham yelled to Moana, “Reinforcements are on the way but don’t expect anything for at least twenty minutes.”

“Too long,” Moana said, her voice cool and controlled.

Her demeanour impressed Cunningham. The sergeant was tougher than he’d given her credit for. Most soldiers experiencing combat for the first time were scared shitless.

“Just stay where you are, Red, and keep that bloody escape route blocked.”

“Roger that.”

“We’re sitting ducks out here,” Moana whispered over Cunningham’s shoulder. She had crawled up beside him.

“We can’t retreat, not just yet,” Cunningham said. “Crossing the open ground is not an option. Now they know we’re here they will be expecting it. We’d be dead before we made the gate. Those two vehicles are their only escape and they need to cross open ground to get to them. Bit of a stalemate I think.”

“Unless there is an exit out the back. They could be running through it right now,” Moana said.

“You’re right, and if that happens so be it.” The lane that ran down the back of the warehouse had a two-metre-high fence running parallel and no cover. “If I send anyone down that alley it would be like sending them into a tunnel. Even a blind man couldn’t miss with an automatic weapon.”

“I wouldn’t worry about that decision, Brian. We aren’t soldiers, just cops. You won’t be getting any volunteers for a suicide mission. Best if we wait for the backup.”

Cunningham smiled at his sergeant’s sarcasm.

“Unfortunately the bad guys will know there is no time. They have to make a break for it. I want everyone to stay flat on their stomachs. Weapons held out in front. Make as small a target as possible. If they do make a break for it they’ll be firing on the run. Unlikely they’ll hit a grounded target.”

He checked everyone was obeying his orders. He mentally kicked his own ass. What an idiot he was. He had reacted emotionally and not professionally. He had not wanted to bring in the police anti-terrorist squad on a hunch. There had been no evidence of the terrorists being in the building and even so with his team he had felt they would be more than a match. Now he was forced to face reality. Zahar Akbar had more men than they had estimated and they were well armed. He had made a terrible mistake. He needed to make sure no one paid the ultimate price for his stupidity.

Two men burst from the building and took up positions behind the first Range Rover. The speed of their movement and the unexpectedness of it meant no shots were fired by Cunningham or his team.

“Everyone, stay down. This is it. Don’t move until I give the order.”

One of the gunmen fired in Cunningham’s direction. The other at Jim and Warren behind the gate posts. There was no possibility of returning fire. Two more men burst out and climbed into the second vehicle. As the Range Rover moved forward
the two who had been giving covering fire jumped into the back. The
vehicle sped forward, the terrorists firing through the open windows. Cunningham watched helplessly as it sped past and through the now open gate. He leapt to his feet and chased after it. He was already halfway across the compound before the others responded.

“Red and Jessica,” he shouted over his shoulder to Moana.

Warren and Jim fell in behind Brian. They were eighty metres from the end of the lane. They would be far too late.

After the shooting had started Red and Jessica stood beside the blocking vehicle debating what it was they should do next.

“I’m not certain standing where we are is such a good idea,” Red said. “Let’s say for argument’s sake they manage to get clear in a vehicle and it comes speeding down the lane towards us. We’ve blocked the lane. They will have no choice but to ram us.”

“Agreed,” Jessica answered nervously.

“If we stand behind the vehicle we’re dog meat. The car could flip back over us. At worst we will be forced to get out of the way and that means we become sitting ducks.”

“What do you suggest?”

“I think we position ourselves behind that wall. That’s twenty metres away. We are secure and have good cover and we also have a good view of what’s happening and have time to react.”

“I agree, Red. Let’s do it.”

Once they were in position Red touched Jessica on the arm.

“Everything will be okay. We take no risks.”

Jessica nodded. “I’m shit scared, Red, but I won’t let you down.”

“I know you won’t, Jessica, I know you won’t. Now remember we do not stand up and say, ‘Police drop your weapons’. These guys have machine guns. We shoot and shoot to kill. Got it?”

Jessica nodded. Uncertain.

The dull roar grew in volume as a vehicle raced down lane.

Red touched Jessica’s shoulder.

“This is it.” He held his gun out in front and rested his arm on the wall. Jessica mimicked his action. She couldn’t stop her hand shaking.

Out of the corner of his eye Red saw a flash of black as the Range Rover careered towards the police Holden Commodore. Metal impacted metal groaning and wrenching and windows exploded, spraying shattered glass through the air like a park fountain. Airbags filled in an instant trapping the occupants in their seats, but only for seconds. The bags deflated quickly and then the doors were flung open. Armed men looked to escape their mangled vehicle. The two closest to Red and Jessica saw the crouching figures of the young police officers and aimed their hand guns.

“Fucking hell,” Red cried. “Just fire at the vehicle, Jessica. You the front seats, I’ll shoot at the back seats.”

They pulled their triggers.

Cunningham fired his police issue glock as he ran. A terrorist leapt from the car. Disorientated for a moment, maybe concussed from the car smash, he swung his head in different directions like a chicken looking for seed. Cunningham pumped two slugs into his chest. The man crumpled to the ground. Cunningham fired twice more then switched his focus. He didn’t need to check to know his target was dead.

He turned and yelled at the team members behind to get down. He continued moving forward firing his pistol as fast as he could pull the trigger. When the magazine emptied he stopped. He pushed the release lever and the empty magazine dropped to the ground. He reloaded. Sporadic shots came from the left. Jessica and Red.

He yelled, “Red. Jessica. Hold your fire.” Cunningham waited. The shooting stopped. “Are you okay?”

“We’re good,” Red yelled back.

“Okay, I’m moving forward. Hold your fire.”

“Come ahead,” Red yelled back.

“Moana, with me,” Cunningham ordered. “The rest of you stay down until I call you forward. Moana, stand over there and cover me. Anyone moves, shoot them. Got it?”

Moana nodded. “I’ve got it.”

She held her weapon at arm’s length. Hand steady.

Cunningham smiled. Sergeant Moana Te Kanawa would not have been out of place in Afghanistan. He walked cautiously forward until he reached the rear of the Range Rover. He placed his hand on the rear guard then slid it forward, his body following. Reaching the open rear door he relaxed. A thumb flicked the safety and his gun went back into its holster. The three men inside were dead.

“All clear.”

He looked skyward and whispered a thank you.

The sound of sirens. Cunningham couldn’t help but think that sirens were becoming an unwelcome but regular addition to the sounds of Auckland city. He walked across to check on Red and Jessica. The two young police officers sat on the ground with their backs against the wall.

“I guess we did okay,” Jessica whispered to Red.

“I guess we did.”

“My hands won’t stop shaking, Red. Fuck it.” She dropped her pistol on the ground. “I killed a man, Red.”

She was crying. Red put his arm around her and she didn’t resist as he pulled her to him.

Cunningham peered over the wall. Red caught his eye. They needed a few moments. Cunningham nodded and walked back to the others.

Moana said, “I’ve checked the bodies. No documents. Nothing to identify these guys. We’ll take prints and send them to Interpol but for the moment it’s another dead end.”

“There are four less to concern ourselves with, that’s a plus.”

Flashing lights raced towards them.

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