The Hard Way Duncan Brockwell (romance book recommendations .TXT) 📖

the toilet as he’d finished typing. Instead of hitting “Send”, he’d clicked on the X, then lied to her that he’d sent it. She kissed him in praise of his bravery.

What the hell kind of guy was he if he went and snitched on his own people? It was bad enough having covert informants on the streets, ratting everyone out for a step up the ladder, without police officers squealing on one another. As he hit the “X”, he vowed to finish this his way, and on his time. He couldn’t let them get away with it, and he couldn’t go getting the IOPC involved either. There had to be a better way.

All morning he’d driven the BMW around the capital, going from one dodgy area to the next, looking, craving for some action. It seemed action wasn’t in their immediate future, though. The radio was quiet.

There was an eeriness inside the car as well. Sarge had barely said a word to him, or Vodicka all morning. The rest of the team were in their BMW.

“Left here, Luke,” Sarge ordered.

Walker slowed the car, indicated left, and followed the main road around, noting the youngsters all out on the street playing football. They stood back, let them through, recognising the yellow dots on their windscreen, knowing they were heavy. He had to admit to enjoying the adrenaline rush of being an armed response officer.

63

Charlotte parked her car in a side road, a two-minute walk away from Neelkanth Safe Deposit, on Allenby Avenue. When she drove past the safe depository building she didn’t see Hayes and Miller’s white Peugeot, or any armed response vehicles nearby. Switching off the engine, she glanced at her watch: 15:31. They were late. “Shit!”

When she opened her door and got out, she heard a woman behind her. Upon turning, Hayes beckoned her over. Looking around, she couldn’t see anyone suspicious, no vans, or cars out of place.

How she hadn’t spotted it, she didn’t know, but five cars behind hers sat two armed response vehicles, BMWs, and between them was Hayes’ white Peugeot. “Aren’t we walking there?” Was she being naïve?

“Erm, no, we’re not. Get in the back, we’ll get a move on.”

She said hello to Detective Miller as she got in the rear, her bag slung over her shoulder. “You don’t think they’re going to try to do something out in the open, in broad daylight, do you?”

“We’re playing it safe, okay?” Hayes nodded to Miller, who pulled out after the first armed response vehicle. “Before we get out, check you have everything you need. We don’t want any last-minute surprises.”

Charlotte checked her bag. The two keys were in one pocket, the locker key and the Ford car key. She had her passport as proof of identification, which she’d retrieved from home before heading to the workshop, just in case. “I’ve checked and double-checked.” She felt the car swerve to the left, slow and park outside the building.

“Wait until the response team are ready,” Hayes ordered, her hand on the door handle. “Here we go.”

Charlotte had to wait for Hayes to open her door, as the child locks were on to prevent detainees escaping. Once out of the car she noticed the stony faces of the armed police officers, all six of them. The drivers remained in their seats.

The manager of the facility met her, Hayes and Miller at the brown wooden double doors, under the green sign with white writing. Blue blinds in the front windows kept nosy outsiders at bay. After a brief introduction, Charlotte showed the manager her passport, telling him she needed to open her locker. “I hope it’s not too much trouble, but my brother has asked me to collect what’s inside.”

Reassuring him that they will retain the locker for future purposes, he relaxed a little, as he walked them through the rooms until they came to one room in particular, which was home to hundreds of lockers. “This is it?”

When she retrieved her key, Charlotte and the manager unlocked the safe deposit box together, using two keys. She peered inside: a bag of some sort. Taking out the rucksack, she placed it on the floor, knelt, then opened it. Above her, she could feel the detectives’ excitement.

“Well? What is it?” Miller demanded to know.

Uncovering a black plastic object, she lifted it out of its bag and held it. Whatever it was it weighed next to nothing. Its lightness surprised her. “I’ve no idea. What do you think?” She held it up.

In her hands was an object she was no nearer saying what it was now than ten minutes earlier. “The only thing I do know is it’s no valve.”

“Is there anything with it? Anything that explains what it is?” Hayes asked.

Charlotte rummaged around inside the rucksack. Empty. In one of the outside pockets, however, she felt a thin oblong lump. After unzipping the pocket, she took out a USB stick and smiled up at the two detectives. “Let’s go and find out what this thing is, shall we?”

“Even now, looking at it, we’re still none the wiser.” Frustration was evident in Hayes’ voice. “Right, pack it up and let’s get out of here.”

“I’m with you on that.” Charlotte placed the black plastic object back in its bag, the word “Prototype” emblazoned on its side. Charlotte put the bag on her back and followed Hayes and Miller out of the building.

With all the testosterone nearby, when she stepped out of the safe deposit building, she half-expected to hear the crackle of gunfire. Charlotte ducked inside the white Peugeot, closed her door and sank in her seat, barely able to see out of the window.

It was the first time she’d been in a police car. Miller put the lights and siren on, following the armed vehicles’ lead. She held on tight to Richard’s bag. “Did you find out where they’re keeping my brother?”

Silence invaded the car.

“Well?” She didn’t like the quiet, not one bit. “Detective Hayes?”

The detective turned in her seat, so