Rise of a Phoenix: Rise of a Phoenix (33 page)

There holding on to the doorframe stood Detective McCall, and she looked pale and sickly. The team member rushed to her, saying, “Are you okay, Detective?”

The Captain shot him a sorrowful look. “Son, the man who died was my partner, but he was Detective McCall’s father.” The team member felt awkward and left.

“You okay, Kid?” the Captain asked, and she nodded, taking in the full aura of the room. Steel and the others walked in. Steel looked at the room and picked up on McCall’s pain.

“God, this place hasn’t changed in eight years,” said the Captain. “I’m quite surprised the new tenant didn’t spruce up the place.”

Steel looked up in surprise. “What new tenant? This place has been empty for eight years.”

“Really?” The Captain’s words sounded hollow as Steel turned to face him. “So who cleaned the place? There’s no dust or anything out of place.”

There was an awkward silence before Steel turned his attention to the window.

“So this place looks exactly as it did eight years ago, yes?” John Steel asked.

The Captain nodded.

Steel had an uneasy feeling and carefully walked to the window, then he turned and faced the others. “Sam was explaining you were looking for places where the men dropped off the packages. If there was some sort of deal going down this place is too cramped, and there are no escape routes.” Then he turned to face the window once more. “But that place is perfect.”

In front of them there was a large multi storey car park.

“But why keep the room just as it was?” Brant asked, looking puzzled.

“To mess with you,” Steel answered. “Don’t you see this is what he does? He gets inside your head and plays with your mind.” The Englishman turned his focus back to the window.

“That must have been where the shooter killed my dad?” McCall stated it as a question.

Captain Brant nodded. “After the shooting we did a canvass and found nothing.”

Steel looked closely, realizing that the closed walls of the car park gave it perfect cover. “I don’t know what, but my gut tells me something over there will dictate our next move.”

The swat commander corralled his teams and gave them new strike orders: if something was going down his team had to be the first ones in.

“Tony, can you get the footage from these cameras? I want to know who came in and out,” requested McCall, looking up at the CCTV cameras covering the entrance to the lot.

“What you thinking, McCall?” asked the Captain.

“Well, we can get an idea of how many and which direction they went in if they left,” She reasoned.

Steel watched as Tony raced off down the street.

The teams had their orders and were ready to move in. But as far as John Steel was concerned, something did not sit right, and the Captain could read the discomfort on his face.

“What’s up, Steel? Man, you have that look, and I don’t like that look.”

The swat commander was just about to give the order to go.

“Tell your teams to stand fast, something’s not right with this,” Brant said.

The Commander regarded him with a confused expression, saying: “Listen, if you have some information we should know about it.”

“It’s just that the man who is doing all this is thorough and calculating,” Brant commented. “He would know we would come here just like he knew we would be at the warehouse.”

The Commander stood up from his chair. “So, Mr Steel,” he snapped. “What do you suggest we do, sit on our asses?”

Steel shook his head and thought about the layout of the building. He turned towards the Commander. “We need your copter again.”

The Commander thought for a moment. “Do you think this place is rigged?”

Steel’s body stiffened, making himself stand more upright. “Sir, I think this place is a loose end and this man doesn’t do loose ends.”

The Captain and McCall both nodded at the Commander, who thought for a moment, and then turned to the man next to him at the desk. “Get the copter ready and get me E.O.D will you?” The young man gave the thumbs up and got onto it. “Okay, people, what’s your plan?”

SIXTY-FOUR

In a cargo dockyard stood a massive metal beast of a ship, and the yellow of its security lights picked up the edges of its black weathered hull. Down below at the dock a convoy of vehicles rolled onto the concrete, and the six vans and four cars raced up to the rally point. As the procession stopped, men dismounted the vehicles and surrounded the convoy. Everyone held their positions until a figure ventured down the gantries, the lead car door opened and Mr Jones got out, looking at a man who was approaching. The man was shorter than Mr Jones but he had broad shoulders and long black hair tied back in a ponytail. He wore a short beard on his massive jawed face, and his eyes were dark, appearing to be almost black.

He approached and Jones went forwards to meet him, and the men embraced like brothers. “My friend, it has been too long,” said the pony-tailed man in a middle eastern accent.

“Mr Moses, I believe your ponytail is getting longer,” said Jones.

Moses stepped back. “Mr Jones, I do believe you are getting uglier.”

The pair laughed and walked for a bit. “We have the merchandise if you care to inspect it?” Jones waved at some men, who quickly started to unload the cargo.

“Has he sent word yet?” Mr Moses seemed uneasy talking about ‘The man’.

“No, we haven’t heard anything for a while, so I presume it’s business as usual.”

Mr Moses felt the need to change the subject. “So, I heard you had an interesting guest?”

Mr Jones smiled at the thought of what his employer might be doing to Sam McCall. “Yes, her father was a bother and it seems to be a family trait, and as a bonus we’ve got Steel as well. No matter, that business is resolved, it’s just a pity I missed it.”

Moses seemed surprised. “How did you get Steel out of the way?” he said in astonishment.

Jones laughed. “Mr Smith dropped a building onto him. Apparently it was delicious to watch.” Both men laughed, realizing that there was nothing to stand in their way, not now.

Jones caught a glimpse of Mr Smith’s approach. Smith waited at a safe distance until the pair’s conversation ended.

Mr Jones turned towards Smith, who made his way forwards, while Mr Smith passed over his cell phone and Mr Jones listened to the person on the other end.

“Are you sure of this?” Jones said, looking up at Smith while he took in the information. Moments later the call was over.

Jones threw back the cell phone to Smith. “Well, Mr Smith, it appears we will be having guests; they have found the garage so it’s only a matter of time. Tell the men to prepare for intruders.”

Smith squared his shoulders and made his way to the men at the convoy.

“Problem, Mr Jones?” asked Moses.

Mr Jones just grinned.

SIXTY-FIVE

The bomb squad had made a search of the lower levels and, sure enough, they had found enough explosives to turn the building to rubble.

“We were lucky, Captain,” the young sergeant explained. “We found shape charges in strategic places, the things were on a remote so once activated, BOOM!” He used his hands to drive home the point

Sergeant North thanked the bomb squad commander and gave Steel a gracious nod. Steel reciprocated in the same way.

“The thing that I don’t get is,” McCall asked Steel, “is how come we are always one step behind on this?” The Captain gave Steel a penetrating glare, but Steel did not flinch

McCall had noticed the exchange. “What? What am I missing? What the hell are you not telling us, Steel?”

The female detective was mad. It was true enough that she was tired and she had been through so much these past couple of weeks. However she had not had a building collapse on top of her, as Steel had—the English detective still hadn’t offered an explanation for his escape. She felt that all of them deserved an answer to her question.

“The reason Steel kept everything closed up was because he thought that someone in the department was, well, less than trustworthy.” Captain Brant said.

 McCall shot Steel an angry look. “So we are not trustworthy?”

 Steel stood there motionless for a moment, then said: “It wasn’t you guys I didn’t trust.”

She bit back a retort, her eyes blazing with fury. “Who then?”

“I don’t know yet. Listen, I trust you guys, in fact you’re the only people I do trust at this point.” His words were evidently sincere.

Sam McCall knew nothing about his past, but she realised that something unimaginable must have taken place to give the man this kind of paranoia.

“Captain, we are ready to go up,” a man from the swat team confirmed as he walked up to the group.

“Okay, let’s get these bastards!” Brant’s words were harsh and filled with conviction. The group put on their body armour and prepared to go in. The Captain remained at the operations van while he watched his people move forwards, the plan being that each detective would accompany a team. The swat commander didn’t like this idea, but he knew that every officer was more than capable of taking care of themselves.

Four teams would venture into the building, taking and clearing a floor each.

“How are we looking, people?” asked the teams’ commander.

“Alpha clear, Bravo clear, Charlie clear, Delta we may have something on the top floor, over.”

The Captain and Sergeant North looked at one another, and North turned back round to the com set and asked: “Sit rep Delta”.

The speaker crackled for a moment then came the report: “We have a white van, no visible movement from within. Over.”

North thought for a moment. “Okay, all teams verge on Delta’s location, close the net from all sides. Out.”

He leant back in the chair and ran fingers through his hair in frustration. “What now?” he asked.

Brant looked at the head cam feed from Delta, and, sure enough, a light coloured van was there with the windshield facing forwards.

The Delta team members were kneeling behind the curved wall of the rampart; a sniper had his weapon trained on the vehicle and the leader kept watch, while the others kept low and ready. Steel came running up the rampart towards the team, saying: “Hi guys, car trouble?”

The leader gave Steel a ‘Very funny’ look, and Steel crept forwards slightly and took out a strange set of binoculars. “What you got, Steel?” asked the leader quietly.

Steel rushed back again. “North, pull your teams back! Right now!”

All the teams froze, taking cover as they waited. “What’s the matter now, Mr Steel?”

Steel’s back slammed against the wall of the concrete as he slid down. “Sergeant,” he began. “How hard were the building explosives to find and remove?”

The E.O.D sergeant leant forwards and picked up the microphone. “Well quiet difficult, we had to use—”

Steel butted in: “—Given what we know of these people’s expertise how difficult was it?”

There was a pause.

“Given that,” the sergeant replied, “I would say relatively easy.”

North tapped on the desk with his pen. He knew that Steel was making sense but did not want to admit to it. “All teams return and cover the exits, Steel come to me, if you please.”

All the teams confirmed the orders with a “Roger that.” Steel and the other detectives ran back to the command vehicle where the three chiefs were waiting.

“Okay, Steel, what have you come up with now?” The swat commander did not like Steel much, that was plain to see. From McCall’s perspective it appeared to be a massive testosterone battle, but Steel was unaware of it, which in her view made it more fun. North was greener than green and for him this operation was like his personal toy train set, and Steel was not a welcome player. North could see that Steel had had some type of training but didn’t know what kind. Sure, the advice Steel had given up in the past was spot on but now he was making him look bad.

“The van,” Steel said intently.

“The van, yes it’s a van, what about it?” North snapped.

Steel was starting to get annoyed with the sergeant; he had noticed that his ego was overriding his judgment as far as Steel was concerned. “Sergeant, everything for this guy is about tying up loose ends, so I think either something is in the van, as it was in the warehouse, or it’s in the building itself. And hey, if he can kill some cops in the mix all the better; look, these people, whoever they are, like to leave breadcrumbs for us to find, then lead us into a trap. Well, as I see it, this is an entire loaf.”

“Okay, what do you suggest?” North put on his sunglasses, trying to look superior.

“Send in the bot, get the copter to scan it with everything. My gut says something is wrong.”

North nodded reluctantly. “Okay, we’ll try it your way.”

With a cloud of dust the copter was moving off towards the car park building. The open walls allowed a perfect view for the cameras as it hovered past making sweep after sweep. Using infra-red, x-ray, they scanned it with everything.

“Okay, what we got, Son?” asked North, coming up to the technician who was flying the four rotor beast.

“Problem, Sir,” the pilot answered. “First we have this.” He showed a scan, which showed what appeared to be boxes underneath each wheel.

“What the hell is that?” asked McCall, staring closely to the picture on the monitor.

“They are anti tank mines, TMA-2s.” Steel’s voice was soft and full of alarm.

 “So no problem, we get E.O.D to blow it and we move on.” Tooms declared. He was now getting tired of the games.

“Tell that to the guy in the back,” Steel said, pointing to another cam that showed heat signatures.

“Who is in there, do you think?” McCall asked, stepping back from the table.

Steel shrugged. “I don’t know, but if these guys are clearing house it’s someone who can talk and probably has a lot to say.”

SIXTY-SIX

It seemed like hours since Tony had arrived at the station, after spending ages chatting up the cute woman at traffic. He had got the footage they needed and a phone number, so he was now a happy man. He stretched in his seat. After viewing hours of footage on the screen in front of him he had to be close, he thought. He needed coffee, but, just as he was getting up, he saw the back end of a van leaving the complex. He cursed himself and rewound the disk. There, driving down the road was a convoy of cars and vans.