Just Another Day - Clark Steven - Страница 43
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‘Well, Johnson stitched us up good style Paul. God help our lads now.’ He took a gulp of the hot tea and looked into the distance. ‘It sounded like Dave Watkins was in a bit of a mess. He won’t be much use to John even if they do get an opportunity to do something themselves. Oh sweet Jesus Paul, why couldn’t I have seen something coming?’
‘Don’t go beating yourself up about this cock up Andrew. Remember, none of us saw it coming either. We all got taken in by the screaming and shouting from Johnson as they were getting out of the police car. The clever bastard used our own technology to fuck us over. No one sussed him. We all just thought he was ranting and panicking a bit. As soon as he mentioned the transit, we all got sucked into his plan. There’s not a lot we can do at the moment other than ask the surrounding forces for assistance in trying to identify the whereabouts of the BMW. They’ve got their choppers up and are trying to locate it. I know it’s a bit of a needle in a haystack job but it’s the best we can do at the moment.
The guys have punched the details of the motor into the ANPR system and we just have to sit back and hope we get a hit quickly. He might not be that far ahead of us.’
Paul Wilson was trying his best to put a brave face on things. He knew it was a fucking disaster, but, he reasoned that Johnson would at least have had to travel south on the M6 in the same direction as the transit van for about fifteen miles before he could come off at the first available junction and drive up north again.
The woman driver of the BMW had been found a few miles North of the services at Keele so there was a good chance that he was still on the motorway somewhere. He was thankful that Johnson had let the woman go, even if he didn’t understand why. A female hostage would be quite an asset in many ways if it came to using her as a bargaining chip, not to mention the fact that he had given away his direction of travel. Maybe the fatigue and the situation was clouding his judgement as well as everyone else’s.
He prayed that the Automatic Number Plate Recognition cameras would pick them up somewhere.
Originally, the cameras had been conceived and used for terrorism purposes in locating and tracking suspicious vehicles, latterly, they had been used for many other purposes, not least of which was for more mundane police work. They weren’t sited solely on motorways any more. Lots of strategic points had been identified for their use. Ports and Airports were now equipped with the cameras as well as many trunk roads up and down the country. Still, all they could do now was sit and wait. Every minute seemed like five as the clock ticked slowly on.
He sipped slowly from his tea as he eyed his boss and thought to himself. If there is a God, for Christ’s sake give us a break. If ever we needed one, now is the time.
John was horrified. He silently screamed as the realisation hit him like a brick in the face. They weren’t getting into the transit van at all. He had seen the driver of the van walking back across the forecourt of the petrol station with the newspaper under his arm and studying the receipt for his petrol.
The delivery man didn’t take much notice of the bloke in the green overalls and trainers staring at him, nor of the other two men huddled close together with their backs to him. He just nodded slightly and climbed into the drivers’ seat and drove away. He thought it a little strange that they were stood near to the back of his van, but otherwise, not much else to concern him. The back doors had been padlocked and were still closed and he never gave it much of a second thought as he shot off quickly to meet his mate at Stafford.
‘Don’t say a fuckin word’ hissed Johnson as he fingered the knife in his belt. He had seen his next victim.
‘When I say so, turn round and move quickly in front of me. You will see a silver coloured BMW with its door open. Right, move it, go.’
John stumbled forward as he was pushed forcefully, the tip of the knife pricking into the small of his back. Dave was on autopilot and just went in whatever direction he was shoved. Johnson had loosened the noose by a turn and had taken his finger off the trigger. He knew he would get no resistance from his captive, but he didn’t want any unintended bloodshed either.
John saw her leaning into the car about five yards away. She was stretching across the drivers’ seat to the front passenger seat as though searching for something in a shopping bag or a handbag of some kind. He caught a side on glance of her face and thought she was about thirty years of age, smartly dressed in a beige coloured pin stripe type jacket and matching knee length skirt. Short heeled beige coloured shoes completed her outfit and with her collar length well cut hair and top of the range motor, he rightly figured that she was a comfortably well off young woman.
She never heard a thing as the trio closed upon her quickly. Johnson whispered in John’s ear.
‘I’m going to give you this knife. Don’t fuck about or try anything stupid or the last thing you will see is his head rolling on the ground. Make sure you impress upon her that she is to do and say nothing. Push her across into the passenger seat and then you get into the drivers seat. If she starts screaming and shouting or makes any kind of a fuss, that’ll be down to you. Is that clear?’
‘Crystal.’
John knew that his best course of action was to get up very close behind the woman and stop her from turning round. If she was in a position to move or manoeuvre in some way, she might well start screaming and there would be a bloodbath of that he was certain. For her own good, and that of himself and Dave, he had to act quickly, decisively and above all, aggressively.
She had her legs slightly apart and was reaching into a shopping bag on the passenger seat next to the steering wheel as John forcefully pushed his thigh between her legs and pressed hard against her buttocks. She was obviously startled and tried to move back. John stopped her with his left hand and brought the knife in front of her with his right hand. he was almost distraught himself as in those few seconds he realised that this was a classic rape position with his hand on the back of his ‘victims’ neck, pushing her forward into a bent position.
‘Do exactly as I say and you won’t get hurt. Do you understand?’
When she saw the large blade of the kitchen knife just a few inches from her face, she let out a quiet anguished groan. Her knees sagged and she began to crumple. She didn’t faint, but there wasn’t much in it as she tried to hold herself up. She was almost sat on John’s thigh and he suddenly felt the right knee of his overalls become wet and warm. He instantly realised that in her shock, his victim had urinated uncontrollably. He felt so disgusted with himself that for a split second, he wanted to take the knife and shove it in Johnson up to the hilt and twist it viciously.
Johnson saw the spreading stain on John’s leg and almost laughed.
‘Get her in the fucking car before she shits all over you. We haven’t got time for this.’
John desperately wanted to, but couldn’t offer any kind of apologies or explanation. He pushed her hard with his left hand and she began to move onto the drivers’ seat. She hadn’t said a word. She couldn’t speak. Her mouth was opening and closing but no words would come. The suddenness of the attack, the violation of her body with the forceful thigh between her legs had struck her dumb. She clambered forward on her knees and john could clearly see the large wet patch. The fact that the skirt was light coloured had made the wetness stand out even more and the tell tale streaks of urine as it traced a pattern down her tan coloured tights just served to revile John even more knowing that he was responsible for her fear and humiliation. She continued to climb forward on her knees to the front passenger seat. She still never uttered a word.
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