‘Give us a couple of ‘mars’ bars and a packet of biscuits.’
John handed them back and saw Johnson toss a chocolate bar to Dave. It hit him on the face and fell onto his lap. He didn’t react at all; he didn’t even flinch when the bar hit him on the nose. After a few seconds he picked it up and, holding it in his right hand, tore the wrapper with his teeth. His left hand was no use to him whatsoever. The sweetness and sugar of the bar revived him slightly and the water eased the dryness of his mouth. He lifted himself slightly and looked out of the window at the encroaching darkness, watching the almost rhythmic monotony of the motorway marker posts flashing past.
Johnson, revived once more with the chocolate and a couple of speed amphetamines, began to take a closer interest in the whereabouts. He had to ditch the car and get another motor. He saw the services sign, Keele, one mile ahead.
‘Right, take the next exit.’
This directive took John a little by surprise.
‘Keele Services? You want me to pull in?’
‘Don’t act so fucking stupid.’ The hilt of the kitchen knife struck him hard on the top of the head. ‘I’m pretty certain our fuckin audience are well aware that we’re coming up to the services. Just get the car off the road before I decide to twat you again.’
Johnson was right; he had only spoken of their intended stopping place for the benefit of his colleagues. He didn’t know why really, the tracker device would tell them exactly where they were and he cursed under his breath as he agreed with his captor. It was a stupid thing to do. He needed to keep Johnson as calm as possible, not wind him up with banal comments. He knew that his judgement was starting to be called into question. He was starting to get desperate himself. He saw the countdown markers rapidly approaching and slowed for the exit.
‘Pull into the car park area over there,’ gestured Johnson pointing to an area where there were not so many cars. The larger car parking area was almost full to bursting.
‘Okay, that will do. Now leave the engine on and we’ll just sit here for a little while. Let’s just have a little look at who’s coming and going.’
It was getting close to the evening rush hour and the services area was a mass of wagons, motorbikes, vans and cars. It suited him well as the more vehicles there were, the more choice he would have when he came to pick his next victim. He also knew it would be much more difficult for his pursuers to know where he was and what vehicle he had. The biggest problem he had at the moment was to try and dodge the chopper. He knew it would be hovering somewhere close.
It would be more difficult for the camera to pick them up now as it was getting quite dark. The infra red was good for identifying a lone suspect or an individual car but now, with hundreds of people and cars around, it would be almost impossible to identify the right vehicle. The pilot of the helicopter had taken the opportunity earlier when Johnson was busy munching his way through the pizzas at the Industrial estate to return to base to refuel. They had at least another couple of hours of flying time left before it was necessary to land and fuel up again.
‘Hotel Charlie One to control receiving over.’
‘Yes go ahead, pass your message.’
‘Target vehicle stopped in the parking area near to the petrol station of the services. All persons remain in the vehicle at this time.’
‘Roger message received, thank you, standing by.’
‘What d’you reckon Paul, any chance of getting closer to him with our ground patrols?’
Chief superintendent Mckay was sat on the edge of the desk in the Forward Command Post speaking to his second in command, Chief Inspector Paul Wilson.
‘I don’t think we can risk it boss. He was very, very explicit in his instructions. He will definitely kill Dave Watkins if he gets even a sniff of the patrols on the ground. He needed Dave earlier when there was just the two of them but now that John Walsh is on board, He could get rid of him anytime he likes. He’s such an evil bastard; he might do it anyway just to make a point.’
‘You’re right Paul, tell all the patrols to maintain their present positions while we try and figure where we go from here.’
He left his deputy to update the log and got up from the desk and walked around to the dispositions board taking in his resources and pondering his next move.
Johnson had the whip hand, particularly when he tied Dave Watkins neck to the end of the shotgun; that took them all by surprise. Cunning and evilness went hand in hand when it came to this animal. Problem now was, how to get them out of this without losing either of them.
They heard the command almost at the same time as Steve Wilson in the helicopter began to speak.
‘Hotel Charlie One to control, be advised that target vehicle is moving off. Repeat, target vehicle on the move.’
Johnson had been biding his time weighing up his next course of action when he spotted his intended target.
‘Right, John boy, over there; drive over there quickly; behind the white van.’
John had kept the engine running and did as he was ordered. He pulled in a few yards behind the van.
‘Hotel Charlie One to control, have lost site of the target vehicle, it has driven under the roof canopy of the petrol station, repeat, no eye ball on the target vehicle at this time.’ Roger that’ came the reply in his helmet.
Chief Superintendent McKay was listening intently to the instructions being barked at John from the gunman. He didn’t like it, but he had no option at present. The eye in the sky was their only means of keeping Johnson in sight. Trying to get anyone closer at the moment might well result in one, or both, of his officers being killed.
‘Think Johnson is about to make his move; he’s definitely going to ditch the police car Paul, let all patrols know that the target vehicle is likely to change in the next few minutes.’ He didn’t need to tell his colleague what to do; he was ahead of him and relaying the information before he had finished speaking.
‘Fucking move it. Right up its arse. Get up right behind the Transit, before it moves off. You lose that van and I’ll fucking carve you.’ John needed no second bidding as he saw the glint from the blade. He saw the driver of the Ford Transit van ambling back from the kiosk having paid for his petrol. He dreaded the next instruction as he knew they would shortly have another hostage to add to their collection.
‘Right, out the fucking car now, move it you fucking plod or I’ll blow your head off here. I don’t need you; I’ll have somebody else any second now.’ Johnson was moving quickly dragging Dave with him on the end of his collar. John was out of the car standing at the front and imploring his injured friend to move as quickly as he could.
‘Dave, c’mon, out quick, get out of the car.’
The control room was listening to the conversation from within the unmarked police car. It suddenly stopped as they got out and closed the car doors. Silence once more. There were no microphones on the outside of the car from which to listen. They were now blind and entirely reliant on the helicopter for further information. Johnson was acting very aggressively for the benefit of the listening ears. He knew they would be less likely to force any kind of confrontation at the petrol station if they thought he would kill his tethered captive. He was using their reluctance as part of his plan to get away, take another hostage and be rid of the bugs. The next vehicle wouldn’t have any listening ears and he would be able to sort out his exit strategy without further hindrance. He allowed himself a little smile.
‘Hotel Charlie One, still no eyeball on target vehicle. Continues to be hidden from view under canopy of the petrol station.’
‘Roger. All patrols, all patrols from control, be advised, consider that occupants of unmarked police car have decamped from the police car and are about to change vehicles. Visual and audio communications lost, believed white transit van under canopy of petrol station is intended target vehicle for kidnapper and hostages.’ No sooner had the control room finished their commentary, when the helicopter crew continued.