The Hard Way by Duncan Brockwell (electronic book reader .txt) 📗

“No, nothing, I swear.” He mounted the bed and sat facing her. “I just remember the desperation in his eyes. Richard never looks desperate to me; he has too much self-respect for that, but he did that evening.”

“Wait! When was this? When did you go to the radio station?”

“A few months ago, maybe. Nine, yeah, eight or nine months ago.”

Charlotte was pretty speechless. The way Samuel described her older brother didn’t sit right with her. Richard wouldn’t behave like that.

The mystery thickened. Richard didn’t look shady yesterday; he seemed more frightened than anything. “I wonder what he was doing there?”

Samuel sat thinking. “You don’t think they’re in business together somehow?”

“Who? Richard and Colin?” Charlotte smiled. “I think that’s the stupidest thing I’ve ever heard you say. How? Why? Richard wouldn’t go into business with Colin, ever.”

“But what about Henry? He’s savvy. He’s smart.”

“You’re right, he is, but I can’t see it, can you? He’s got a radio station. How would Richard’s and Henry’s business interests cross?” Her husband’s question did make her think. She would study the two of them later.

16

“Get down, get down, now!” Walker surged through the warehouse with his carbine pointed at the night workers, who raised their hands and turned to face him, shaken. The noise of taking the metal shutters off their rollers was enough to startle them. “Did you hear me? I said, get on your fronts, now! Knees first, hands behind your backs and lie on your bellies. Do it, now!”

All six young lads in their late teens and early twenties complied, first getting on their knees, then lying face down on the concrete floor. His colleagues joined him in scaring the drug dealers. They cuffed the youngsters.

“Let’s spread out. These are just the cannon fodder, the generals are still around, somewhere.” The Sarge pointed to his left for Walker.

The warehouse was huge. From the outside, it seemed small, but like the Tardis, opened up internally. The building went back a fair way. Walker, carbine in hand, finger on the trigger and adrenaline peaking, made his way slowly towards some floor-to-ceiling shelving units. The generals could be hiding anywhere.

Having Vodicka with him made Walker feel secure. She was his rock. If he had to choose anyone to go into combat with, he would choose her. Not only was she a skilled marksman – or woman – she also had a black belt in Ju Jitsu, and a brown belt in kickboxing. He signalled for her to take the left while he took the right.

With his nerves heightened, he checked the aisles, crouching to check beneath the lowest shelves. “Clear!” He received the all-clear from Vodicka and the Sarge. “Zuccari, talk to me!”

He turned and ran back to the main factory floor at the sound of raised voices. He stopped when a gunshot echoed through the warehouse.

When he reached the table in the middle of the warehouse, he saw his friend stood over a body.

“It was a clean shoot.” Zuccari held his hands up, his carbine on the floor, as was policy after a shot was fired. “He had a pistol in his hand, look.”

The rest of his unit sounded off after checking the large room. Walker couldn’t believe these youngsters were the only ones here, except the dead general. Sarge took Zuccari away, while Walker and the rest of his squad made the area safe.

Once the dealers were squared away, he made a note of the inventory. The table in the middle of the room held enough cocaine to put these men away for a long time. They were dealing in kilos, not grams. Two had possessed firearms as well, so this haul was worth their effort.

“Hey, Walker, what’s going to happen to Zuccari now?”

“You know what’s going to happen, Voddy.” Every SCO19 officer knew what happened as soon as a firearm was discharged, regardless of fatalities. “He’ll be relieved of duty, pending an investigation by the IOPC. If he’s found to have acted lawfully, he’ll be allowed back to work, if he passes his psych evaluation. Come on, you don’t need me to tell you this. You know it.”

“I just think it’s really shitty that we get questioned as soon as we fire a gun.”

“I agree, but it is what it is. We signed up to the scrutiny as soon as we took on the job. We’re not in the States, don’t forget. And Zuccari did shoot this guy in the head.”

When they went on patrol, Walker drove, Zuccari navigated, while Vodicka worked as communications operator.

His comms operator turned and walked back towards the car park. A SOCO crew arrived and started their role documenting everything. A coroner was en route to process the dead general. Walker started after Vodicka.

17

Richard Fisher opened the door to his workshop, slipped inside and closed it. He peered through the glass, checking no one was behind him. Locking himself inside, he turned the main lights on and they flickered to life, his little blue Fiesta sat in the centre of the room.

He walked up the metal stairs to his office, where he switched on the light, before sitting behind his desk. His PC whirring away in the background, he clicked the mouse and the monitor sprang to life. He’d waited a long time for this email.

Four years earlier he’d applied for a patent on his revolutionary idea. Only an idea back then, it was now a reality, sitting downstairs in the middle of the workshop.

The Intellectual Property Office’s logo appeared at the top of the email. When he scrolled down, he saw the words “delighted” and “successful” and grinned. It was his, all his. Hell, it only took fifteen tests and three years to build it.

In his desk drawer, he had a cigar reserved for this occasion. He opened the drawer, took it out and put it in his mouth, searching his pockets for a lighter.

The first inhale was always the harshest. For the rest he simply held the