Snow Storm (32 page)

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Authors: Robert Parker

Tags: #mafia, #scottish, #edinburgh, #scottish contemporary crime fiction, #conspiaracy

BOOK: Snow Storm
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The diesel
engine roared once more, belching noxious fumes into the atmosphere
as the powered towards the main building. “Full steam ahead,” Davie
yelled sitting on top of the monster, feeling every inch the
general as they pulled off the ultimate ram raid. He stoked up a
B&H and reflected that you should never really fuck with
someone who has access to a tank driving school. The decommissioned
Russian hulk was followed by a Toyota Hilux under whose canopy was
concealed eight angry men with baseball bats, iron bars and
whatever else they’d got their hands on. Game on.

 

********************

 

 


What the
fuck?” Edwards blared into the microphone making everyone else’s
ears sing. “What’s this?”

He’d choreographed this
with the guys on the ground. They were doing one last circle before
preparing to move in and now it looked like all hell was about to
break loose.


Go! Move in
now,” he screamed. “They’ve got a… a tank.”

Below they could see the
tank move in and the bodies on the ground scrambling like
ants.


Looks like a
rival gang.” Edwards squawked to his crew on the ground. “Proceed
with extreme caution. It looks like they’re armed.” He turned to
the pilot. “Can you set this thing down?”

The nose of
the chopper dipped accordingly then rose up again as the ground got
closer. They moved along the runway sideways and came to a halt
near the abandoned control tower, followed by the second air unit
which then broke away and circled round the other side, towards the
shore. As they descended, they could see both prongs of the police
attack coming in from either side of the complex in a blue flashing
pincer movement.

 

********************

 

Giles heard the crash
outside just after he pulled the trigger. It threw him. It wasn’t
the sound he’d expected to hear and it didn’t come from the right
place. It took his brain half a second to catch up.

He’d forgotten the safety
catch. That was the advice he’d ignored when the gun was handed
over. No matter. He fumbled with it, watching the grin spread
across the kid’s face and once ready, took aim again, allowing
himself a grin of his own.

He could hear the
commotion outside now but in here it was quiet. In here it was just
the two of them. All he wanted to do was finish this, blow that
smile away.

He took a deep breath and
squeezed the trigger once more, willing the gun to go off, to blast
lead through skin muscle bone and brain. Nothing.

The boy looked relieved
for the briefest moment before smiling again and letting out the
most primitive animalistic sound Giles had ever heard, pitching
forward and hurling himself, into a somersault that shifted all the
wooden pallets attached to his back into the air.

 

********************

 

 

Andy lay on the floor
face down, listening to the noise outside. He had undoubtedly
broken one of his arms, and painful though it was, he was glad to
be able to feel something. He knew what he had to do now and
prepared himself. Taking a deep breath, he launched himself
forward, with everything he had left, untwisting his arms with an
agonising surge of pain he would never know again and landed on his
back. As he drifted into what was probably shock, an immobilised
Giles Heriot-Watt beneath him, he thanked whatever bank robber had
taken such fastidious care of their sawn off shot gun, even making
sure they stored it with dummy cartridges to protect the firing
pins.

 

********************

 

 

Davie was not
feeling so confident now. They hadn’t known there would be guns,
never mind full on hard core automatic ones. Now a hail of bullets
raged around the tank. Someone got hit in the leg and the boys in
the pick-up had beaten a retreat.

Now they were stuck here
in the middle of it and to cap it off the cops had
arrived.

He wasn’t sure but there
was every possibility you could get done for being drunk in charge
of a tank, not to mention vandalism.

The shots were all coming
from the main grain store and the office opposite. They could do
something about that.

 

********************

 

 

Victor watched the tank
move. He fired a salvo at the turret on the top. He knew the damage
would be minimal but it would deafen whoever was in there and might
make them think twice.

The tank
seemed to move about indecisively for a few seconds, like some kind
of giant dithering beast, before it turned on its tracks and headed
the other way towards the grain store. The police had moved in,
surrounded the place. This was now a siege situation at best. The
others were in there for now, all except the lawyer who should have
finished off the kid.

There was confusion in
this situation. The red mist had descended. The tank headed towards
the grain store with renewed vigour clearly meaning to take down
the steel door. The others would be exposed, probably run. He had
to take his chance now.

The helicopter circled
overhead. He told himself it would be focused on the main
action.

He ran out the back door
of the office, across the courtyard to where there was a gap
between two buildings in the corner. Squeezing through the gap he
ran along the wall behind the buildings. The workmanship was
inconsistent and he could see through holes in the breezeblocks.
The police had used his airstrip as a giant car park surrounding
the complex from there and round. He could hear the squawked
messages, telling them they were surrounded. Give up.
Never.

They had his plane. He
had no idea where the pilot was. A second helicopter sat at the far
end of the runway, like an invitation. But how to get to
it?

He could hear the tank at
the other end of the complex, crashing into the grain
store.

Why were the police
waiting? Were they scared to come in until their tank had done the
heavy work?

Then he remembered. There
was a chance, the lawyer was as weak willed as he imagined. The
boy, if he were only still alive; he was almost certain he could be
used as leverage.

He doubled back, heading
for the barn he’d left them in. He could feel the soft seat in the
helicopter already. There was always a way.

 

********************

 

 

 

They sat hunkered behind
vehicles on the airstrip. They had been given the nod to pull back
out of the open five minutes ago but this had been retracted. The
marksmen were moving in, gaining ground, unseen.

One target had moved to
the wall bordering the airstrip and then pulled back again,
sneaking towards God knew where, blissfully unaware of the infrared
eye in the sky, following his heat signatures every
move.

Another three targets
were in the grain store, with a further number in the tank.
Intelligence had it that these were locals. Every time he thought
he’d seen it all he went home and it surprised him.

A further two
targets could be seen in an adjacent barn but they were losing heat
fast and it wasn’t looking promising. Presumably these were the
hostages the reports were coming in about after they’d intercepted
the pick-up full of witnesses trying to make their
escape.

The order went out for
the marksmen to advance and Burke could see them now in his mind’s
eye, heading in. It would be the first and last time this military
base saw any action.

 

********************

 

 

Davie and Al sat in the
tank unsure of what to do now. There was nothing like biting off
more than you could chew. The cops were involved. The pissed off
workers with the guns were pinned in the grain store and all they
could do was fire a few rounds at the tank. First of all it had
scared the hell out of them, and then it made them laugh but now
they were probably up shit creek with the police turning up. This
could take some explaining.

So they sat and waited,
and then it dawned on them. Maybe no one knew this was a
decommissioned tank. Maybe they had no idea that Al’s dad had
bought it from a Russian scrap firm for buttons and rented it to
stag dos for a small fortune. No. The boys must have been caught by
the fuzz on the way out. They must have explained it
surely.

He needed a better view
of the situation, couldn’t see behind so he rotated the turret to
get some kind of look. As the dangerous end of it came round to
point at the outside of the barn he caught some movement. A guy
dragging something. It looked like a person. It looked like Andy.
This guy was dragging his seriously damaged friend with
him.

He must have heard the
squeal of the turrets motor and turned to see the gun facing him.
The man stood for a second wondering what to do, totally oblivious
to the fact he was looking down the barrel of a camouflaged painted
broom handle. Then, as though unconcerned, he hoisted Andy onto his
back and began limping away, confident his human shield was in
place. He was headed for the airstrip.

 

33

 

The marksmen entered the
complex via the broken down front entrance, splitting into two
groups and continuing down opposite sides of the main road
slowly.

They were directed by
intel from above and knew to expect fire from the entrance of the
main building on the far right. The tank in the doorway was not
considered a threat, but the figure or figures moving away from it
were.

The tank reversed at
speed from the entrance without warning, leaving the targets inside
in an open position. The three officers on the left side covered
the entrance, taking turns to advance further round. The three on
the opposite side advanced along the wall in the same direction
trying to get a line of fire on the moving targets which were
currently obscured by the now slow moving tank.

 

********************

 

 


He’s headed
this way again,” Edwards announced to whoever would
listen.

They were now
spread out more. Some officers provided a line of resistance along
the perimeter of the airfield, unseen, while Edwards and his two
minions, along with Burke and Jones, had taken shelter in the
entrance to on old bomb shelter.


He’s going
to make a run for it with the hostage,” Burke said, almost to
himself.


Do you know
where?” Edwards asked, pulling out a hastily downloaded map and
aerial photos of the site.”


I can’t be
sure. He might just be brave enough or mental enough to walk right
past us.” Burke looked towards the complex, checked his body armour
was secure and shook his head. “Fuck it. I’m going in.” He grabbed
a radio before anyone could protest and began moving along the edge
of the runway bordering the breeze block wall. Edwards pursued him
without much consideration. He had expected some kind of
resistance. This was his shooting match after all. Not that he had
much control right now. It was starting to look like a house party
that had been advertised on facebook and exploded.

They reached
the corner of the security wall and the bit he thought might be the
hardest. As soon as his head went over the top he might be a goner.
He was reminded of the final scene in Blackadder Goes Forth, where
after months of trying to avoid it they have to go over the top. He
hoped this would not be his final scene.

He looked behind. Edwards
was there. Egging him on, notably not volunteering to go
first.

He gritted
his teeth, grabbed the top of the breezeblock wall with both hands
and using all the force he had, pulled himself up and over the wall
in one clean movement. He landed in a back alleyway formed by the
rear of an old building and the new wall. He was wrong about the
wall being the hardest bit. This was a dead end. Now they were
sitting ducks. They ran along the alleyway looking for the other
corner of the building and open space, but drew up short as they
got there and shots rang out, making concrete dust of the wall in
front of them.

They crouched down,
hemmed in by the sudden action. They could still hear shots but the
wall stopped exploding. The main sound now seemed to be the diesel
engine that must belong to the tank.

 

********************

 

 

Davie watched
in disbelief as the fat old guy dragged his friend towards the
airstrip. What was he going to do? Walk right out there? Just
leave? And then what would stop him? Either they would shoot him
and he would shoot Andy or they would miss him and shoot Andy. It
was a Mexican standoff. It was OJ getting chased down the
interstate at low speed. Who was really going to stop
him?

They followed on slowly
as the man made his steady advance to freedom.

Then the wall in front of
them began exploding and the tank began to rattle as it got in the
way of the bullets and everything went wrong.

 

********************

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