Dead Souls (D.I. Kim Stone #6)

A hand clamped over her mouth.

Stacey shook her head and kicked out. Fuck hiding. Now she’d run. She wasn’t ready to die.

‘Stacey, it’s me,’ she heard, whispered into her ear.

The words stunned her into stillness; she knew who it sounded like but it couldn’t be. There was no way. Not possible.

She began to shake her head.

‘It’s me, Stace. I’ve got you,’ she heard.

‘Boss?’ she said, against the palm.

The hand loosened, and the boss’s face appeared before her own.

‘Listen, there’s no time to explain but I got your message. The boot pointing this way.’

Stacey felt the tears gather in her eyes.

Her boss. Here. For her.

Hot tears spilled from her eyes. Somehow, this determined, ballsy woman had put it all together and found her. Never had she been so grateful for anything in her life.

‘Boss…’

‘Now, we gotta get going. The armed response team is here. They’re closing in but we’re at the centre of the site. We need to try and move out. Got it?’

Stacey nodded, still processing the fact she was no longer alone. Hope began to rise inside her, chewing away at the inevitability of death. Maybe she would make it out alive.

‘Once we’re out of here we stay low and head east, okay?’

Stacey nodded. She would follow any instruction she was given but there was so much that she wanted, needed to say.

‘Boss, listen…’

‘Not now, Stace,’ Kim said. ‘We’ll talk later.’

She watched as her boss stood and then offered her hand. Stacey held out her bound wrists, and Kim pulled her up.

‘We’ll have to leave them for now. Can you move okay?’

Stacey nodded.

They tiptoed towards the entrance to the tunnel-like building. Her boss paused at the end and turned.

The shape and structure reminded her of Netherton canal tunnel. Her father had taken her there for Sunday afternoon walks, and she had never admitted to him just how scared she was of the one-and-three-quarter-mile trek but she had always been relieved to see the pinprick of light appear at the other end.

‘You ready?’

Stacey nodded and they both lowered themselves to the ground.

‘There are animal traps,’ she whispered, remembering the poor animal’s cries.

‘I know,’ her boss said.

‘What’s that?’ Stacey asked, looking into the distance.

They paused as the figure came closer.

‘Shit, it’s Bryant,’ the boss said, as she started to wave.

Suddenly Stacey realised she wasn’t waving at all. She was signalling for him to get down.

Bryant slowed.

The boss waved again. Get down.

He shook his head, not understanding, and still advancing towards them.

‘Bryant, don’t—’

Her words were cut short as a single shot sounded.

And in slow motion, Bryant finally folded to the ground.





ONE HUNDRED FOUR


Dawson turned to Riggs, the officer in charge of the Armed Response Unit.

‘How much longer?’ he asked, fighting the urge to break through the fence and get looking himself.

As he and Gibbs had reached the western edge of the site they had run right into six armed officers entering the site. Despite their protests they had been frog-marched to safety.

‘You know the drill, sergeant,’ Riggs said, humourlessly. ‘There are protocols to be—’

He stopped speaking and held up his hand as he listened to something in his earpiece.

Dawson fought the frustration. Quite frankly he didn’t give a fuck about protocols when it came to people he cared about.

And shots were still being fired. His eyes roamed to the rear of the Audi where the rear seats had been removed and a gun case fitted. Right now he wanted to knock this guy out and just grab the keys.

‘We’ve pulled out seven individuals so far,’ Riggs said, lowering his hand. ‘I have one officer already injured in a trap and—’

‘How far are your guys out?’ Dawson interrupted, caring less about Riggs’s team member than his own. Stacey was the one they were all after.

‘About four hundred metres from the centre.’

‘Can’t they go any quicker?’ Dawson asked, running his hand through his hair.

‘Absolutely ? and then miss one and someone gets killed. We don’t even know how many are in there.’

His answers were not helping Dawson’s mounting anxiety.

There was something very wrong happening in that compound. And his colleagues were right in the middle of it.

Gibbs put a hand on his arm.

‘Dawson, we can’t…’

‘Listen to your pal, mate, and step away,’ Riggs said. ‘I can see the look in your eyes, and I dare you to try it.’

Dawson squared up. ‘Oh yeah,’ he said.

A hint of a smile touched the dour lips.

‘Listen, buddy, I’ve got enough heroes in there already. My team is in there too, and you do anything to compromise their safety, I’ll shoot you myself.’





ONE HUNDRED FIVE


Kim’s vision narrowed as her heart thumped within her chest. Little else mattered as she crawled along the ground. A nettle stung her right wrist and gravel dug into her stomach but her focus was on her colleague.

‘Bryant,’ she whispered urgently, as she neared the area where he’d dropped. She felt around in the shadows.

‘Bryant,’ she repeated.

‘He’s down here, boss,’ Stacey hissed to her right. Kim scrabbled over a row of tall grasses and peered down.

‘I heard him,’ Stacey said.

‘Bryant,’ she called down into the pit.

‘Here, guv,’ he called.

The relief washed over her.

‘You hurt?’

‘Just my pride,’ he called back.

That would mend, she thought to herself as she took a moment to analyse the situation. Armed officers were closing in all the time but their progress was slow. There were people in that building who could get away. And one of them had just taken a shot at her friend.

‘How far down are you?’

‘Ten, fifteen feet,’ he said.

‘Throw up your pocketknife,’ she instructed.

She heard fumbling.

‘Coming up,’ he called.

The pocketknife flew into the air and landed about five inches from her knee. She grabbed Stacey’s wrists. Two cuts and the cable wrap was released.

‘Get that high-vis vest off,’ she said to Stacey, as she began removing her own bulletproof vest.

‘No, boss, no…’

‘You’d better not be doing what I think you’re doing,’ Bryant called up.

Kim ignored it as she balled up the fluorescent vest and threw it far into the bushes, out of sight.

‘Put it on,’ Kim barked to the constable.

Stacey shuffled into the bulletproof garment.

Kim knew she was leaving herself vulnerable without the protection of the vest but she could keep moving. If Stacey and Bryant were discovered by the hunters, they would be trapped.

‘Put your legs over the edge,’ she instructed. ‘Bryant, get ready to catch her.’

It was the only thing she could do. She couldn’t risk Stacey’s safety, and she couldn’t get Bryant out.

They would be safer together, out of sight.

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