One such arch was in the business of ringing stolen cars, altering their identity for resale. Beneath the sultry gaze and lovely curves of a calendars Miss March up on the wall, a silver BMW Roadster was currently being altered to become a red BMW Roadster, its new identity being taken from an identical car that had met its demise in a collision with a lamppost in Frankfurt. The three mechanics were far too busy and the ghetto blasters volume turned up far too loud for them to have noticed a light aircraft flying above, taking ‘aerial photos of London for an estate agents’ a half hour before. Neither did they notice the approach of four men and a woman in police uniform.
An hour later the LFB, London Fire Brigade, received a call to a railway arch lock-up. Their entry was hindered, briefly by a brand new padlock. Inside they found three bodies, too badly burnt to be identified, and a buckled and burnt out BMW Roadster. The police were called, as a matter of course at the same initial call to the scene. It did not take the brains of an archbishop to work out that this was no accident.
A police Mercedes carrier pulled quietly into a cul-de-sac beside a derelict 1960’s tower block keeping close to the building line in order not to advertise to their fugitive in a flat far above, the police livery, blue lights and distinct ‘Air Code’ upon its roof, the unique identifier for helicopters.
On the opposite side of the carrier, at the bottom of an embankment, a London Underground line ran above ground. Alan Harrison left the driver, Dave Carter in the vehicle, he would be prepared to drive around to cut off Jubi if he was at the address and managed to run.
Constables Sarah Hughes and John Wainwright went around to the rear of the flats, in case Jubi climbed down from the seventh floor, balcony by balcony.
Sergeant Harrison, Colin MacKay and Phil McEllroy took the stairs. The previous residents had only been moved out over the last six months and many of the flats were still habitable. Whilst still out of earshot the officers turned their radios down, drew and extended their Asps. Jubi was fond of knives and their body armour only provided limited protection. The flat in question faced out across the tube line and the 1920’s built housing beyond, to the large modern Surrey Quays shopping centre. Approaching quietly along the balcony to the flat Alan saw the guardrail was missing, no doubt stolen for its scrap metal value and he indicated caution to the young officers with him.
The door was ajar, nothing unusual there as most of these flats had been trashed by kids and scavengers. Using his Asp to push open the door he signalled MacKay to wait at the door. He went to the stairs whilst McEllroy checked the downstairs of the flat. Peering cautiously into the living room, McEllroy started as he saw a figure at the window peering down. The figure at the window was looking down at the figures of two policemen outside; despite Dave Carters best efforts he been on lookout for such an eventuality and seen the carrier arrive. He had warned Alexandra Berria and his colleagues. Berria had called up to Carmichael in confirmation.
“Politseiski ma peredinyie zdaniya.” She had slipped out of the flat and hidden on the next floor below for the officers to pass on the stairs, before taking steps to neutralise the carriers’ driver.
Phil relaxed when he recognised the uniform worn by the stranger even if he did not know the man in it. The other officer wore a Glock handgun in a holster and had some other type of weapon held down the side of the leg furthest from Phil. He had to be an SFO, Specialist Firearms Officer, with SCO19. It did not seem strange to Phil that they had not heard of an ‘armed op’ on the ground, nor seen their vehicle as he was new to the game. The officer at the window looked over his shoulder at Phil’s greeting and smiled in a friendly manner at the young officer.
“Hi” he replied, a Belfast accent in evidence. Mounting the stairs quietly Alan had reached a spot where he could look along the level of the floor of the landing. He jumped when he saw the figures of an Inspector and a PC stood blocking his view into a bedroom through its open doorway. Both men were looking directly at him and both smiling reassuringly. Back at the carrier Dave Carter’s attention was on the ‘main set’, the main radio for the ‘Met’. There was a chase going on and he was listening with professional interest to the commentary. He did not immediately see the rather attractive uniformed female police sergeant approach in his nearside wing mirror. The passenger door was opened and he looked across at the blue eyed blondes smiling face framed in it.
On the stairs Alan let out a breath and climbed the rest of the steps; then he suddenly noticed that these firearms officers wore exactly the same body armour as he did, not the much superior ballistic armour in its distinctive, bulkier rig.
In the police control room at Lambeth the Metcall staff were busy with a major incident.
Fire Investigation at the Laboratories in another part of the complex was being arranged and the Area Major Investigation Pool, AMIP, was being summoned to the scene of a fire at a railway arch lock-up, along with a host of other agencies.
Police Personal Radios have a ‘Panic Alarm’ function, when activated the officer has a few seconds of hands free time to shout his or her location if they can. If that is not possible their radios unique number flashes on a screen anyway on the operators panels, the operators look up who the radio is issued to and where that officer was last known to be. The makers of the radio had offered a locator beacon function to the Met, it would have made things so much quicker but the Met did not pay the extra for that facility. An audible ‘beep’ sounds on everyone’s radio and continues until the radio of the officer in distress is reset.
A loud beep and Sergeant Harrison’s radio number flashing on the screens of the operators caused a flurry of keypunching on consoles. The sound issuing over the radio was that of his body bouncing down wooden steps. A ‘Last Assigned’ query of the system gave his possible location.
The senior controller, CCCIR, punched into the Southwark radio nets and listened in. It could have been a case of a false alarm but until information arrived to confirm an accidental activation it was treated as urgent.
Alan had managed to depress his panic button just as two MP5 automatic carbines with large sound suppressers came to bear. At the door, Colin MacKay was greeted by the sight and sound of his sergeant crashing down the stairs in a jumble of limbs leaving smears of blood on the wall where his body brushed against it. From upstairs there was a an unusual sound, he had not heard the sound of working parts moving back and forwards rapidly inside automatic weapons before.
The metallic tinkle of spent cases bouncing off walls and hitting floorboards, rounds missing Sergeant Harrison striking plaster covered walls meant his death was not a truly silent affair.
PC McEllroy turned at the sound of Sergeant Harrison tumbling down the stairs. He was in mid stride for the door when he was hit in the back by a short burst of Teflon coated 9mm rounds that tore through the body armour supplied by the lowest bidder. The burst of fire would have been longer had a stoppage not occurred in Sean McVinnie’s weapon.
Sarah Hughes and John Wainwright heard their radios announce whose panic alarm had sounded and were sprinting around the building for the stairs at the front. When the carrier came into sight John shouted toward it, he could see Dave Carter leaning forward, apparently unaware of the emergency.
Colin MacKay heard the sound of McEllroy's body hit the floor and his helmet rolled into sight in the living room doorway. Colin also depressed his panic button as a kneeling McVinnie appeared in the doorway, MP5 hanging from a strap and a Glock pistol levelled at the young Constable.