Rise of a Phoenix: Rise of a Phoenix (35 page)

“Captain,” she asked, “couldn’t we just?”

He looked at her. “Just
what
, Detective? We are Homicide not Special Weapons. Besides we don’t have the firepower, we have just a couple of hand guns and whatever we have in the trunk.”

Tooms smiled. “He doesn’t know?” His voice was full of excitement, as the Captain glared at them.

“I don’t know what?” He followed McCall to her car’s trunk, and as she opened it his eyes lit up. “Holy Mother of... You’ve got to be kidding me. I take it this was what you had to stop off for?”

In the car’s trunk, their armoury lay before him. “Okay,” he conceded. “We got the tools, but it’s still swat’s show. Until North fucks it up.”

The Captain put down the AR-14 rifle he had been examining to answer his cell phone. “Brant,” he snapped, his mouth dry from excitement. He listened to the brief statement and then put the phone away.

“Detective, be careful what you wish for,” he said to McCall.

She looked puzzled.

“That was Steel just now. The son-of-a-bitch made it out, and we have to go in.”

They got into their cars and made for the entrance.

High above the dockyard a lone sniper sat in a crow’s nest observing the entrance to the area, ensuring that no unwanted guests could come to back up the swat teams. For him the boredom had set in long ago, and all he had to do was look through his scope from time to time.

Then from one of the buildings there was a flash of light and movement. Using his scope he homed in to find a TV set had been left on playing a porno film, and the sniper pointlessly looked around as if someone may be watching, then looked back to the window.

As he zoomed in to watch, he was suddenly surprised to see another sniper aiming his weapon straight at him. Before he could react, the .338 round had penetrated the glass of his scope.

After Steel had been looking at the puff of red where the man’s head used to be, he packed away the powerful MSR sniper rifle and moved off.

One down, lots more to go
, he thought to himself.

Pulling their car up by the swat vehicles, McCall and the others crept out of the vehicles and moved around to gather the weapons from the trunk. Taking out the canvas bags they prepared themselves for what was ahead. The Captain had ditched his Remington pump-action, and swapped it for an automatic shotgun, thinking to himself,
don’t mind if I do
.

Finding the left-hand entrance that the teams had created, the group of police moved quickly from building to building. With Tooms taking ‘point’ (leading) position, he took them through shadows and as close to cover as he could, until they reached the building where the swat leader had set up. This time moving slowly and quietly, they continued on up the stairwell. McCall could not help but notice how everything appeared to become larger, as the light diminished. Beads of nervous sweat collected on her brow.

Tooms crept up the stairs checking the corners, and all his military training came flooding back to him.

“God, I miss this, bro.” he muttered.

Tony smiled, noticing that his friend and partner was in his element. Finally, they reached the floor. Just beyond the door in front of them lay the corridor to the Operations Room. Tooms’s heart was beating hard in his chest, and the rush of adrenaline was intoxicating. Opening the door slowly he saw flashes of light from monitors lighting the hallway. Edging forwards they reached the room. Tooms stopped and raised his fist to signal stop, and everyone crouched down as he moved forwards. McCall saw him stand up and wave them in

There on the ground lay two men in black, both with knives embedded in the backs of their heads.

“Is it them?” Brant asked, using his boot to roll one of the blood-soaked men over onto his back. “Unfortunately no. Looks like someone bagged the bad guys.”

Tony squinted outside, saying: “Yeh, I wonder who?” Then he pointed to the corpse that was hanging from the crow’s nest.

“Ouch.” McCall said, and stopped looking through her scope at the headless man and concentrated on the looking at the main deck of the massive ship below them. “I found Steel, he’s on the main deck,” she said excitedly, and re-slung the rifle. “Okay, people, let’s go and help the man. Tooms, you happy with taking point?”

The big man grinned and took off.

Deep inside the ship Alpha Team entered a large room, and the only light they had was from their weapon lamps. “Oh my God,” Said the team leader, who stood motionless as he realised they were in a room full of missiles. “All teams converge on my location, we have a problem.”

Bravo and Delta confirmed the request. Moments later the teams entered the room.

“Jack, what the hell is going on here?” someone asked.

The team leader shook his head. “I don’t know, man, but what I do know is” His speech was cut short as the door was slammed shut. The three team leaders rushed forwards. “What the hell, who the hell was on guard?”

Then they looked down outside the door to see a man lying unconscious. Two men dressed in black picked him up and threw him into another room. The trapped team’s only hope was that the Captain and his crew had made it down to the shipyard.

Brant and the others had made it to a stack of crates next to the gantry, and two armed men stood between them and the hostages. McCall and Tooms moved forwards, their silenced Beretta ARX160 rifles held ready for contact.

“Police, put down your weapons,” McCall shouted while Tooms covered her. The two guards turned and lifted their weapons. There was a dull popping sound, as Tooms shot one and McCall took the other, then the two guards dropped to the ground. Moving over to the two bodies McCall checked but found no pulses.

“Hey you!”

The voice came from behind them. Two armed guards knelt ready, weapons trailed on their targets. McCall and Tooms were fully in their sights, so they put down their weapons and raised their hands. McCall heard no sound, she just saw each man lunge forwards as a round took away their faces and pushed their lifeless bodies into the water below. The two detectives both exhaled the litre of air they had held in anticipation of being shot.

Gathering up their weapons, Tooms waved to the others, who followed them up the gantry to the main deck. Once there, the containers stacked one upon another meant that there was plenty of cover from the mass of mercenaries who were no doubt waiting for them.

Tooms took point and McCall followed, and the group moved tight and stealthily. As Tooms crossed one corner, a large man grabbed him, and was about to plant a large blade into his head. But there was the sound of a dull thud and the man fell, blood oozed from the wound in the back of his head. The Captain spun round as four mercenaries rushed towards them. Dropping to one knee he opened up on the men, each of whom spun off their feet as hot metal pellets made contact, ripping through flesh and cloth.

The police unit moved as one through the maze of containers. Suddenly McCall looked up and saw three mercenaries on top of a container, their weapons at the ready. With a burst of fire she ripped into them, sending sprays of red body fluids into the night air, as the men’s bodies went reeling over the other side. The others swung round, weapons trained on the targets, but it was too late. McCall smiled, saying, “Too slow, boys.”

Crouching behind some metal containers, they spied their target. The entrance to the bridge and the lower decks was not far from their position. McCall’s cell phone vibrated in her pocket. After taking it out the text on the screen simply read:
Have found hostages, come to lower decks. Steel
.

McCall put the phone away but felt puzzled. She looked up to find Tooms had the same look of confusion.

“What’s wrong with you two?” asked Brant.

Tooms looked around them. “Why does Steel need our help?” he asked.

Tony seemed confused by the question, but the Captain then had a spark of insight. “He doesn’t need our help,” Brant told them. “Hell, the guy did this sort of thing for a living—oops.”

McCall and the others looked at him in surprise. “Did
what
for a living?” she asked.

Brant realized his slip and tried to cover up his gaff. “Ask me if we live, hell, ask him if we live.”

McCall and the others now had a really bad feeling. “Okay, my question is why does he want us on the ship?” she said.

Tooms was now feeling even less happy.

“Well my question is why you are getting texts from me when I didn’t send any.”

They all looked round, amazed to see Steel standing behind them holding the massive sniper rifle. “Steel, what the hell is going on?” McCall asked.

Steel walked up to her. “Hi, can I get your phone please?” She gave it to him with a puzzled look. “They are tracking you through your phone. All of you have to get off right now.”

Brant walked up to Steel, asking him: “Where is everybody?”

Steel put McCall’s cell phone away. “The teams are downstairs, and the sergeant and his second are back at the van, so everyone get off, right now.”

McCall shot him an angry look.

“Sorry, Sam, but no you can’t help, you’ll slow me down.” Steel’s words were cruel but also accurate. He had to move quickly and someone alongside him would get in the way, she realized that. Steel swapped weapons with Tooms. “Sure you can handle that?” he asked, grinning as Tooms shot him a sarcastic look.  Reluctantly they obeyed the Englishman and headed for the side. As they moved off, Steel grabbed the Captain’s arm. “Sir, this boat cannot leave these waters.” He shoved a manifest into the Captain’s hands, a list detailing all kinds of weapons.

“This ship is heading for the middle east,” Brant was so angry he was practically foaming at the mouth. “So this whole thing was about arms smuggling?”

“No,” replied Steel. “It was about money.”

Steel made his way down the metal stairs, the darkness shattered by the dimly lit red lights. He had to find the teams and fast, but first, he had to even up the numbers. Soon he found a room full of crates, and he smiled at the irony of the situation. Making his way inside he took out McCall’s cell phone and hid it deep within the room. He found a spot in the shadows at the end of the corridor and waited.

He did not have to be there long before red beams of light cut through the dimness of the corridor. They were here, at least twelve heavily armed men. He smiled as he watched them go into the room one by one.

“Where are they?” screamed one of them.

A short man took out an electronic tablet and watched the display turn into a map of the boat. Touching the screen it zoomed in on the room.

 “They are here,” he said, “Or at least her cell phone is.”

 “You dumb ass,” said another man, who came round the corner of boxes holding McCall’s cell phone. At that moment the door slammed shut and there was a creak of metal as the brace went on.The imprisoned men rushed forwards, firing as they went, hoping to wound or kill whoever had locked them in.

“Great,” said the man with the cell phone, throwing it into the corner, and hearing it disintegrate against the wall.

SIXTY-NINE

Inside the Operations Room Brant and the others watched as the ship gave a bellow of smoke in preparation to disembark. Brant picked up his phone, looked at it for a brief moment and then shoved it back into his pocket.

“Find me a secure line,” he ordered.

Everyone looked for a landline phone that was still functioning had not been ripped out.

“Will this do?” asked Sergeant North. They all turned to see him and his second-in-command. He was holding his cell phone in an outstretched hand and looked guilty and ashamed.

Brant took the phone from him. “This was nobody’s fault but theirs, so let’s have no guilt or recriminations, let’s just get our people off there, and get these sons-of-bitches.”

The Captain then called the commissioner and told him of the situation. He also fulfilled his promise to Detective Steel, grimly explaining that it was vital to stop the ship by any means necessary. They all looked at Brant, fully understanding what that meant.

“He will get those men and himself off that ship before anything happens,” assured Brant. “I know he will.”

They all nodded and sat down on whatever they could find. The situation was out of their hands now and there was not a damned thing they could do to help. They watched helplessly as the ship got underway. “God speed, Steel,” the Captain spoke under his breath.

Steel raced down corridor after corridor until he heard the sound of banging. At first he thought he was close to the engine room but this sound wasn’t that of mechanical discord, this was an almost purposeful tapping. As he got closer he could hear the yells of trapped men. Knowing it wasn’t the room he had trapped the morons in earlier, he knew it must be the SWAT teams. Wrenching open the door, the men drew back seeing only a shadow, until one man put on his flashlight, and there stood Steel.

“Any one order room service?” Steel joked.

The men rushed forwards to greet him. “Daniels,” someone called out. “They took him somewhere.”

Next to their room was a broom closet with no handle, and with a huge kick the team leader of Alpha had found his man, who was still unconscious.

“We have to go now.” Steel told them. He could feel the engines getting stronger, and He knew Captain Brant being a man of his word, would do as Steel had asked, meaning that very soon all manner of hell would be raining down on this ship.

Looking through his binoculars Tooms saw men in the water. Adjusting the focus to zoom in, he identified them as the missing SWAT men.

“Well I’ll be damned, he got them off, the bastard did it,” Tooms declared.

Everyone cheered, and Brant turned to the room full of people. “We’ve got to get them out of the water.”

Leaving their equipment, they all rushed down to the dock to assist the half-drowned men. Finding several small boats they set off to get as many as they could, leaving McCall and Tony on the bank.

Steel was last to leave the cabin. He could see the city lights sparkling brightly in front of him, and as he broke out of the doorway two powerful hands grabbed him and tossed him like a doll. Hitting the deck, he rolled and ended in a crouched alert position. In front of him was a large man with blond greased-back hair.