Chapter Twenty Eight
The atmosphere was icy in the rear of the command unit parked in the shadows somewhere in the Leith Valley. They had just been going over the final risk assessment for the operation they were about to commence. "I don't want a repeat of what went on this afternoon Mike, by rights I don't even think you should be here. It's not on, putting my men in that position".
Bridger was distracted a little with the events of the last hour; it had taken more out of him now that the initial adrenalin had worn off. The last couple of days were starting to take a toll.
"I know Gaz, he said, rubbing the stubble on his cheeks. I am at a loss for what to say. It will not happen again. This whole thing is getting to me".
Gary Stone looked at Bridger in the semi darkness of the command unit, he was looking very tired and stressed. He had known him since they were both uniform constables. Work hard, play hard was the section motto in those days.
"Maybe the drinking is catching up a bit Mike; we’re not as young as we used to be".
Bridger thought of the mess his life was in right now. He had no idea.
"Maybe it is Gary.... Maybe it is".
"We go back a long way, I've got your back Mike… The boys will not say anything about this afternoon. Just don't let me down".
What had he done to deserve this closing of ranks around his indiscretions?
Bridger just grunted a reply, his mind running over the events of the past hour. It had taken Becky about 5 minutes to break through to Beth, using a combination of bad cop and angry cop. Once Becky had put her in her place, Beth let the floodgates open. Bridger had listened to Becky and had been impressed with her technique. She was clearly very skilled at reading and dealing with people.
Beth’s Daniel was Daniel Crompton, the counselor from the university and the back stagehand for Jonas's play. They had been having a relationship of sorts. He had made advances on her after she started going to him for guidance at the beginning of the semester. Bridger had pictured the innocuous male he had met at the theatre less than 24 hours ago. Their relationship seemed to be that of mutual benefit, both getting what they needed from the unlikely tryst.
Beth had also told them of Daniel's plan to humiliate Marion for some unknown reason. The reason was all too clear to them now. For her part, Beth seemed very surprised to hear of what Daniel was actually up to. She had fought his corner well, defending his reputation as someone who cared, someone who could not hurt anyone. Daniel's interest in Marion did not really concern her though, it only cleared the way for her to step up and take the leading role she had been craving.
Bridger had watched her demeanor change in front of his eyes as she spoke of her aspirations. All thoughts of Marion buried in herself aspiring dialogue. Her eyes were alive again, her face showed emotion that had not been there only a few moments ago. Then as fast as her mood changed it descended back into the black abyss that she lived in.
She had no understanding of what Marion was going through, or what danger she was in with Daniel. A great advertisement for the 'Me' generation, he had thought.
Bridger looked over at Gary; he was a solid capable sort of guy. Bridger felt embarrassed that he had let himself down so badly in front of him and the other members of the armed offender squad.
I am not so different from that girl back at the police station, he thought.
He felt beholden to so many people because of his actions. A sick, uncertain feeling started to churn in the pit of his stomach. Two people were in serious danger right now because of the actions of different people in the past. He felt sick that his own actions were going to be responsible for the outcome, good or bad. What ever happened now he could not change what had happened previously, but he would not be able to look back on this with any sort of pride. He had not acted the way that society dictated; he had not followed the rules of life.
"Mike the lads are in place, we just need the go ahead from you".
Gary's voice was a hushed whisper in the back of Bridger's mind. It was a call to action that he should not ignore. He wanted to stay where he was though, it was safe here inside his head, and he did not have to make serious decisions that affected people's lives.
"Mike, snap out of it mate, we need to get in there". Gary knocked Bridger's knee with his black gloved hand in the cramped interior of the van. "Listen Mike,” he said quietly, placing a hand on his shoulder. “We’re all human, we all have our shortcomings. People are quick to judge others but everyone has things hidden in the closet that they would rather stay hidden. Some people's line is a bit further away than most and once they cross it they are into unknown territory. This guy is so far over that line, its unknown territory for all of us. No one can tell you how to react. This investigation is on your shoulders, we know that, it is bound to put a lot of stress on anyone. You need to step up to the plate now Mike. You need to make the call".
Bridger stood up, cracked his neck from side to side, cartilage popping as he did so.
"Let's do it".
Bridger and Gary stepped out of the van and into the chilled night air of the Leith Valley, their breath mingling to create a small fog. Gary put his black Kevlar helmet on his head and secured the strap. Bridger looked further back up the street; he could see an unmarked police car in the gloom, engine on, exhaust curling lazily into the air. Grant and Becky would be sitting there with the heater on full blast.
Brian and John would be further back, knowing Brian there would be no heater on in that car; engine noise gives you away at nighttime he would always say.
Up ahead he could see the outline of Daniel's house, with its windows smashed earlier by an angry young girl. It was the only point of reference they had for Daniel, even though Steve Kirkland had sworn the house was empty when he checked.
No offence to Steve, thought Bridger, but he would rather find out for himself. Steve would not have been expecting to find the macabre scene they hoped to uncover. He probably just called out inside the house, got no answer and so left it at that.
The surveillance team had been watching the address as they were preparing back at the central Police Station. Stan Walton had confirmed that nobody had either arrived or left the address in the time they were there.
Bridger listened to Gary as he spoke quietly over his radio, checking for the final time that every point of exit was covered. The affirmative replies sounding in his earpiece.
The squad members were invisible in the darkened streets, the black jumpsuits they were wearing helping with their nighttime urban camouflage. He knew they were there, he had watched them deploy. If the puppet master was keeping to his timeframe, then they had two hours until 9pm. Two hours to find and dismantle his little stage show. All going well it should be over in the next ten minutes.
Bridger looked around at the darkened windows of the neighboring houses, the curtains drawn shut against the cold night. Most of these people would only read about what went on in the morning’s paper. That is if they bothered to read it at all. For the second time that day, he hoped that his hunch was right.
"Send them in", he said.
Thirty seconds later a there was a flash followed by a dull thud which echoed down the street, as the usual greeting was thrown through the door of the target address. Bridger's night vision had adjusted and he could just about pick up a flurry of shadows moving towards the door. He was less than one hundred meters from the address and could make out the shouts of 'Armed Police' carrying on the slight breeze.
Once the house was secure, they would move in and make the arrest. An ambulance, placed on standby, would be ready to administer whatever aid Marion and the unknown male required. Bridger was edging closer to the address in anticipation. He could hear the first team call, 'Room Clear', through his earpiece, as they moved through the front door. He was about twenty meters from the door, still hidden from view in the shadows. More shouts of 'Room Clear' were coming through the radio.
It is no
t that big a house, Bridger thought. They have to be in there.
'House Clear', was the last call he heard before a blinding white light erupted from the doorway, the displacement of air caused by the sound wave nearly knocking him of his feet.
There was a moment of eerie silence after the initial noise of the explosion, and then reality rushed back in to meet them. Urgent calls came over the airwaves. Teams were checking in as they found themselves in the shocked aftermath but otherwise okay. Bridger watched in stunned silence for a few seconds as small licks of flame started creeping up the front door frame.
"There was an explosion in the hallway, team two are down. They’re unresponsive". The voice on the radio was shaky but calm. "Attempting to evacuate them now".
Bridger watched as other members of the squad dragged out two black clad figures. Their arms holding the Kevlar plated vests of the victims, making them look just like the dummies used in the police fitness tests all around the country. The two apparently lifeless members were dragged through the increasing flames, out onto the front porch and down onto the grass. They threw their rifles onto the ground as the men began working franticly on their fallen teammates. Gary Stone had run over towards the mess of bodies.
"Get their vests off, make sure they are breathing", Gary called.
"I've got a pulse", yelled someone.
"Jamie's got a pulse to", called another.
"Right carry out a quick assessment and get them into the recovery position", Gary ordered, not a trace of panic in his voice. He looked over at his second in command, a stocky, confident looking man called Ken Moore. "What the hell happened in there?”
"I think it was rigged boss, some sort of man trap. We had just finished clearing the house; I switched on the hall light just inside the door then the gas bottles exploded on the sidewall. The only thing that saved Jamie and Paul was the structural wall between them and the bottles. Most of the force would have been directed outwards".
Bridger cut in, "What about that target or Marion, any sign of them? Could you have missed something?”
Ken Moore looked back at Bridger, barely hiding the contempt in his eyes. "Not this again, we cleared that house properly, they are not in there Sergeant. If you want to check be my guest".
"Look sorry, I didn't mean that you hadn't done your job properly". Bridger felt chastised again. "I just think that if he would go to the trouble of setting a man trap, he must be protecting something".
"Well whatever he is hiding, it bloody well isn't in that house", Ken spat out, before turning back towards his fallen friends.
"The house is clear Mike," Gary said, hand on his shoulder. "I trust my lads. We are on the right track though. The explosion proves he has something to hide".
"The problem is he's not hiding it here though, is he Gary". Bridger looked at his watch. Time was ticking by.
Daniel Maine watched the bank of screens in front of him. He could see clearly, as the black clad police officers had entered his house. The same as he had watched that silly girl Beth break all of his windows. Technology was a wonderful thing. A few cameras hooked up to his Internet connection was all it took. He had also prepared some delaying tactics for just this type of occasion. Although he did not actually think, he would need them. Maybe he had misjudged Beth's resolve and instability.
The bright light of the explosion had disabled his view and now the screens were blank, probably destroying the cameras in the blast. Never mind he had seen enough. It would soon be over.
"It seems we have visitors mother. I have given them a surprise gift to welcome them to my home. It should keep them busy for a while. Time enough for us to help father with his valediction... And your redemption. Although we may need to bring the ceremony, forward a bit. We could be pushed for time.
I wish father had given us more time mother, if he had then we would not be here. He pushed us all along at whatever pace he wanted. Time meant nothing to him, the faster the better, all the way to the end.
You know after all that he put us through you would think that father would have more to say for himself. I guess you cannot have everything in this life, I should have known that.
Do you know who our visitors are mother? Do you? Of course you don't, you are a little too tied up in your own life to worry about such things. It is the police, mother, anger and self-indulgence in a uniform. Who do you think they are here for mother, you or me? On the other hand, maybe the both of us deserve rescuing. What do you think?
One thing I can be certain of mother is that each and every one of them are here for their own selfish reasons, all lying to themselves about helping people and all that rubbish. Their uniforms give them delusions of grandeur, self-importance, a false sense of self. The only thing the uniform has brought me mother is misery.
Father's uniform was the same as theirs, mother, only his always smelt strongly of cigarettes. Whenever I am around a smoker, it reminds me. You probably think I was too young to remember, but I remember that fact very well. His stinking uniform represented hurt and misery and it has stayed with me all these years.
That is why they all deserve to be hurt, just as they hurt me.
Listen to me mother; I'm ranting a bit now, I'm sure you should have something to say about my behavior".
Marion was beyond caring what the shadow was spouting, his delusions were of no interest to her. She did not want to have the last thing she heard to be the ranting of a mad man so she was trying to block out his ugly monologue.
She had heard a deep rumble from somewhere out in the darkness, like a roll of thunder. She wondered if it was stormy outside, she loved the wild unpredictability of that kind of weather. It was the awesome power of Mother Nature on show in all its glory. She thought of her own mother, at home in front of the fire, she would be nervous, because she hated storms. Marion remembered sadly how she would flinch at the flash of lightening, then wait, not breathing, for the thunder to come rolling in. Like a little girl in need of comfort, her mother used to come and sit next to her. Marion remembered the small grateful smile she received when she would put her arm around her mother’s shoulders, the same smile she had been seeing all her life.
What would her mother do without her? She did not want to die.
She had not heard him when he mentioned the police; she did not know the end was getting closer as her captor hurried the proceedings along.
Marion felt her body start to sway again as the now ugly tune started in the background, her arms started moving back and forth, the blade glinting seductively in front of her eyes.
"Your wedding dance mother."