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Just Another Day - Clark Steven (читать полностью книгу без регистрации TXT) 📗

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‘Hotel Charlie One to control, confirm white transit van exiting from the petrol station at speed. Southbound carriageway towards Stafford, repeat, Southbound at speed Stafford direction.’

The news of the transit van’s speed and direction were conveyed to all the ground patrols and the helicopter used its camera to try and identify the registration number. Darkness was closing in and it would be more difficult for the chopper. One thing that would make it easier was the type of van they were following. The transit, being a commercial type van had no windows other than the front and back, the helicopter could get in a fair bit closer without being seen and that would aid the camera in obtaining the number.

For the same reason that the darkness would now aid the helicopter a little, Lee Evans in the unmarked armed response vehicle was also given the green light to take up a closer position to their target. They had previously been following the unmarked police car about three quarters of a mile back. They had been prevented from getting any closer by the Command team in case they were seen by Johnson. Now, he wouldn’t be able to make out one set of headlights from another and this meant that they could get within a dozen or so vehicles of the transit van with little likelihood of being spotted.

Progress was slow though. They couldn’t use their ‘blues’ at all. In the developing darkness, they would be seen by Johnson long before they could get close enough. They had to battle through the traffic like everyone else, cursing the slower moving vehicles. Even when flashing the headlights to warn traffic of their intention to overtake, some drivers were bloody minded in that, having no idea that it was an unmarked police car trying to pass; ‘fuck him’, they thought, ‘bollocks to him in his flashy black Range Rover, he’ll just have to go the same speed as me.’

Once or twice, to ease the way, ‘Skip’ Lee would tell the driver to give a quick flash of the blues fitted behind the radiator grill. He knew he was taking a bit of a gamble, but he reasoned that as the lights were fitted low down, there was a good chance that they wouldn’t be seen by anybody other than the one or two vehicles directly in front. He had to make up time and get closer to their new target vehicle. The stakes had just been upped once more and now that there was another hostage, and a civilian one at that, he knew that the time was fast approaching when the situation would have to be resolved one way or another.

Ged Duggan, sat in the back, was all too aware that it might shortly be the case where he was given the instruction to shoot Johnson even though he had the shotgun tied to Dave’s neck. Now, the police could not take the chance that the civilian hostage would be killed alongside the two officers. Quite simply, the police officers, however horrific the thought, would be considered as expendable in order that the life of the civilian could be saved. If Ged got the opportunity in a like situation as before where the target vehicle was disabled and he had a shot. He would have to take it. He’d be ordered to take it. The Commanders would not allow the transit van or its passengers to move away again. He was trying not to think of what lay ahead. He closed his eyes and tried to doze. He needed to be completely alert if that order came. But, try as he might, he could not get the image out of his mind.

It had to be a head shot. No other would guarantee instant death. That was the simple requirement. Sudden and instant death. No ifs, no buts. If he missed, and hit him in the body, he would not die instantly and would still be able to fire the shotgun. In his mind, he saw Johnson’s head explode. He also saw Dave’s head being torn from his shoulders almost at the same time as the two shotgun shells ripped through his neck as Johnson pulled the trigger in his death throes.

He would take the shot. No question. He was a professional and like all his colleagues, he knew that however sickening the situation would be, an innocent civilian life must take precedence over that of a police officer. He prayed that if and when the time came, maybe, just maybe the maniac he was pursuing might just have taken his finger off the trigger for a moment. Just a second would do. That’s all he’d need, one second. He shuddered a little in the back seat. He was warm and cosy with the heating on, even so, a little shiver ran down his spine.

They were making slow but steady progress and they were all quiet. Even swifty the joker in the pack was unusually silent. Each was aware that it wouldn’t be long now. Each was deep in his own contemplation as they received regular updates from the helicopter as to their position in relation to the van up ahead. Romeo Victor Two had made excellent progress in catching up with their colleagues. They had been further back and were able to use their sirens and lights to close the gap. They confirmed their position of two hundred yards behind Romeo Victor One.

‘Romeo Victor One to all patrols, be advised we have eyeball on the transit van. Nearside lane eight vehicles ahead behind the tanker lorry. Romeo Victor One to Hotel Charlie One, please confirm that this is in fact the target vehicle.’

‘Hotel Charlie One to Romeo Victor 1, that’s a Roger, target vehicle is white transit van, confirm registration number as Mike Delta Five Three Uniform Foxtrot Golf.’

As the various messages were being relayed, both the helicopter and pursuit vehicles saw the transit indicating to leave the Motorway. The Services at Stafford were rapidly approaching and the van slowed and moved into the access road for the services. The big yellow ‘M’ of the McDonalds sign flashed by. The two response vehicles were no more than a hundred yards or so behind and followed the target vehicle as it drove past the parking area for ordinary cars and on towards the commercial vehicle area.

The van drove around for a minute or two and the watching officers who had pulled in amongst the normal cars, watched as it slowly circled as though looking for something or someone. After a few minutes, it pulled up at the far end of the lorry parking area well out of the way of the normal wagons, stopped and turned off its headlights. There was some discussion within the two vehicles and the helicopter crew as to the suspicious nature of the van driving round previously. They concluded that the occupants were watching to see if they had been followed, once satisfied that they had not, the van had then settled on its out of the way location as some means of hiding from any possible pursuers. As well as the ARV’s watching the scene unfold at ground level, the Command team back at base had been viewing the pictures from the force helicopter and deciding their next action.

‘Skip’ Lee of Romeo Victor One spoke for all of them when he said,

‘RV1 to control, this looks like the best chance we’re going to get to contain this situation. Request authority to implement hard stop and prevent van from moving off again.’

They knew they had to make an instant decision and both the control room Commanders looked at each other. Paul Wilson spoke first.

‘Sergeant Lee is right Andrew. There’s not likely to be a better opportunity. I know it’s very risky for Dave Watkins and John Walsh, but we’ve got to act now. We’ve got to hope to God that we can save someone. There will be enough criticism that Johnson has now got a civilian hostage with him, if we allow that van to move off again, there’s no telling when we will be able to stop him again. The car park is a good option Andrew. Let’s bring this to an end now.’

Chief Superintendent McKay was not one to shy away from making difficult decisions and if it all went pear shaped, he knew the vultures who sit on high would be circling and there would be plenty of ‘Should haves’ in the inevitable enquiry that would follow. ‘You should have done this Superintendent or you should have considered that’. Well, that was for the future, now, he had to make that call. He prayed that he would get it right. His instincts told him his colleague was right. He nodded back to Paul Wilson almost at the same time as he said into the radio,

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