you get that from?’
‘I have my ways.’
‘I’m sure you do. And don’t forget to make sure Conway’s car’s crippled.’
‘I’ll call Sheenan and get his people to take care of it. By morning Conway’s car won’t be an issue.’
‘Good,’ Sean said. ‘Now all we need is about a hundred other things to fall perfectly into place and we’ll be fine.’
‘Just play it by ear, Sean,’ Chopra advised. ‘Use your instincts and use them well. I’ll keep my phone close. Call if you need to – understand?’
‘Don’t worry about me,’ Sean told him and hung up, hiding the phone back under the bed. It wouldn’t do to have it found by Conway or The Network if they were to spring a surprise visit on him. At last it was happening – coming to a finale. All he had to do was get to the meet and let them lead him by the nose to the location where the children were being held, activate the alarm signal on the tracker, sit back and let the arrest team do the rest. Once Conway and his followers were taken out he’d head straight back to the flat, clean it out of anything belonging to him or the police and head straight back to New Scotland Yard for a de-brief with SO10. After that, Justin Cramer could finally rest in peace and he could be Sean Corrigan again. Go home to his own flat in Crystal Palace and a night with Kate, followed by the slow mental process of trying to return to normal – thinking like an everyday cop and not the half-cop half-criminal thing he’d become. Not that he’d never truly think like an everyday cop. His past had ensured that.
***
Shortly before four p.m. the next day Sean eased the Ford Zodiac along Wetheral Road towards the sports ground. The car park was deserted except for the beaten up old Ford Scorpio he recognized from the meet at the warehouse and another beaten up old machine. There was no sign of Conway’s vintage Jaguar – clearly Sheenan’s boys had been true to their word and disabled it. But apart from the empty cars there was no sign of life. ‘Christ,’ Sean told himself. ‘Now what?’ He pulled the car up close to the others and stopped, but kept the engine running, searching the ground around him for places the men could be hiding.
Suddenly they appeared, from around the corners of the buildings, from behind trees and industrial-sized recycling bins. Six in total, heading towards him, all wearing the same balaclava masks and all carrying some type of weapon – baseball bats and machetes hanging from their hands like the swords of medieval knights just before the battle commences. ‘Fuck,’ he swore as he scrambled to grab the car-key fob that dangled from the ignition – one press and the signal would be sent to the arrest team commanding them to move in as fast as they could.
They know. They know. Save yourself and press the alarm. Do it and do it now
. But he couldn’t do it – couldn’t make his finger and thumb pinch the fob and call for urgent assistance, no matter how close the armed men came, no matter how threatening they looked.
Bluff it out. They don’t know anything. It’s just part of the test
. He turned off the ignition and stepped from the car, holding the fob between his fingers and his hands above his head. ‘There’s no need for this,’ he told the men. ‘You know who I am.’ He watched them as they approached, trying to tell which could be Conway by the way they moved. He was sure he wasn’t amongst them – although he could feel he was close by.
A man holding a baseball-bat spoke first. ‘Get down on your knees – hands behind your head or I’ll cave it in.’
‘Where’s John?’ Sean asked, fearful of the more cautious members of The Sanctum – like the man back at the warehouse who’d wanted to get rid of him. He needed Conway to be here, sure he could still manipulate him. ‘He’s supposed to meet me here.’
‘Get on your knees and shut up,’ the same man told him. Slowly Sean did as he was told, the
‘I have my ways.’
‘I’m sure you do. And don’t forget to make sure Conway’s car’s crippled.’
‘I’ll call Sheenan and get his people to take care of it. By morning Conway’s car won’t be an issue.’
‘Good,’ Sean said. ‘Now all we need is about a hundred other things to fall perfectly into place and we’ll be fine.’
‘Just play it by ear, Sean,’ Chopra advised. ‘Use your instincts and use them well. I’ll keep my phone close. Call if you need to – understand?’
‘Don’t worry about me,’ Sean told him and hung up, hiding the phone back under the bed. It wouldn’t do to have it found by Conway or The Network if they were to spring a surprise visit on him. At last it was happening – coming to a finale. All he had to do was get to the meet and let them lead him by the nose to the location where the children were being held, activate the alarm signal on the tracker, sit back and let the arrest team do the rest. Once Conway and his followers were taken out he’d head straight back to the flat, clean it out of anything belonging to him or the police and head straight back to New Scotland Yard for a de-brief with SO10. After that, Justin Cramer could finally rest in peace and he could be Sean Corrigan again. Go home to his own flat in Crystal Palace and a night with Kate, followed by the slow mental process of trying to return to normal – thinking like an everyday cop and not the half-cop half-criminal thing he’d become. Not that he’d never truly think like an everyday cop. His past had ensured that.
***
Shortly before four p.m. the next day Sean eased the Ford Zodiac along Wetheral Road towards the sports ground. The car park was deserted except for the beaten up old Ford Scorpio he recognized from the meet at the warehouse and another beaten up old machine. There was no sign of Conway’s vintage Jaguar – clearly Sheenan’s boys had been true to their word and disabled it. But apart from the empty cars there was no sign of life. ‘Christ,’ Sean told himself. ‘Now what?’ He pulled the car up close to the others and stopped, but kept the engine running, searching the ground around him for places the men could be hiding.
Suddenly they appeared, from around the corners of the buildings, from behind trees and industrial-sized recycling bins. Six in total, heading towards him, all wearing the same balaclava masks and all carrying some type of weapon – baseball bats and machetes hanging from their hands like the swords of medieval knights just before the battle commences. ‘Fuck,’ he swore as he scrambled to grab the car-key fob that dangled from the ignition – one press and the signal would be sent to the arrest team commanding them to move in as fast as they could.
They know. They know. Save yourself and press the alarm. Do it and do it now
. But he couldn’t do it – couldn’t make his finger and thumb pinch the fob and call for urgent assistance, no matter how close the armed men came, no matter how threatening they looked.
Bluff it out. They don’t know anything. It’s just part of the test
. He turned off the ignition and stepped from the car, holding the fob between his fingers and his hands above his head. ‘There’s no need for this,’ he told the men. ‘You know who I am.’ He watched them as they approached, trying to tell which could be Conway by the way they moved. He was sure he wasn’t amongst them – although he could feel he was close by.
A man holding a baseball-bat spoke first. ‘Get down on your knees – hands behind your head or I’ll cave it in.’
‘Where’s John?’ Sean asked, fearful of the more cautious members of The Sanctum – like the man back at the warehouse who’d wanted to get rid of him. He needed Conway to be here, sure he could still manipulate him. ‘He’s supposed to meet me here.’
‘Get on your knees and shut up,’ the same man told him. Slowly Sean did as he was told, the
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