Leaving Holyhead
Tank sat in the backseat of Sian`s Jeep next to Mustapha. Chen and Faz had left earlier to organize the raids that Tank had ordered. Sian steered the Jeep down the steep gradient toward Porthdafarc beach. They drove by Mustapha`s caravan, men from the crime labs and technical departments were already swarming all over it like ants. They headed straight back toward the heliport avoiding the town centre, opting to take the coast road through Treaddur bay. The road snaked around the coast, rising and falling frequently as it hugged the headlands. Sian could have driven the treacherous road blindfolded she was so familiar with it. The road turned sharply to the right and dipped down steeply past a farm track. The farmer that owned the track used it as the main route for his cows to travel from their fields, to the milking sheds. The bend had become affectionately known as “Cowshit Corner” by the locals. Many a young motorbike rider had taken a tumble on this sharp corner, as a layer of excrement stopped their motorbike tyres from gripping the road. Sian slowed the vehicle, knowing the dangerous reputation of the corner well.
Suddenly from the farm track came the dazzling headlights of a dark BMW-X5. The lights blinded Sian for a moment. The BMW lurched forward at speed and slammed into Sian`s Jeep. The broadside sent the vehicle into a spin; the manure on the road was making it like an ice rink. The car span round twice and then slammed into a dry stonewall. A chunk of sandstone the size of a football smashed through the side window. It stuck Mustapha on the side of the head rendering him unconscious. Sian was slumped over the steering wheel; the impact from the air bags had stunned her momentarily. Tank instinctively pulled out the Glock 9mm and tried to exit the vehicle but his door was sandwiched against the wall. It wouldn’t open. He looked at the BMW and saw it reversing, the wheels skidding and spraying cow manure into the air. The two rear doors opened and three masked men climbed out of the BMW carrying Uzi submachine guns.
Tank turned and fired four shots through the rear window at the masked men. The glass exploded clearing his view and he watched as one of the men fell backwards, knocked off his feet by the high calibre bullet that blew the top of his head off. The two other gunmen pulled their dead colleague behind the back of the black SUV. A volley of bullets from an Uzi smashed into the stone wall; fragments of stone and hot metal exploded near Tank`s face. He ducked and aimed again firing three shots toward the windshield of the BMW. The driver was rocked backwards as the bullets smashed into his chest destroying his lungs and turning his spleen into pulp. He fell forward his head resting on the steering wheel. The two men behind the BMW broke cover and opened fire with the submachine guns. Tank was still trapped in the backseat of the vehicle by the stone wall. He jumped across the unconscious Mustapha, grabbed the door handle and rolled out of the vehicle onto the road as the machinegun bullets peppered the space he had just left, showering Mustapha with broken glass. Tank tried to stand and return fire but he slipped in the fresh manure. He fell, face first onto the road, the thick green liquid sticking to his clothes and his skin. He wiped his eyes clear of the green excrement with his sleeve and saw one of the masked men taking aim again; he knew he didn’t have time to fire before the man with the machinegun opened fire. Tank heard the familiar boom of a Glock 9mm behind him. The masked man that was pointing an Uzi at Tank suddenly twitched violently as Sian`s bullet left a dark circular rent in his forehead; he toppled forward as if in slow motion. Cow manure splattered as his face hit the road. Sian aimed the weapon at the remaining assailant and fired as he dived behind the BMW. The last gunman ran around the X5 to the driver’s door, he opened it and dragged the dead driver out onto the road.
The engine roared as the gunman put the vehicle into reverse, the wheels finding no purchase on the slippery road. He stopped revving and put the vehicle into first gear, it lurched, wheels spinning toward Tank and Sian. Tank grabbed Sian and pulled her behind the car as the BMW screamed past them; they both raised their weapons and emptied their bullet clips into the back of the escaping X5. It rounded the bend at the crest of the hill and disappeared from sight.
“I`m covered in shit and I am not a happy chappy. Sian, we can’t leave Mustapha here. I’m going after him get in.” Tank took off his jacket and quickly used the inside to wipe his hands and face, simultaneously starting the Jeep. He pressed his foot to the floor and the Jeep fishtailed up the hill in pursuit of the escaping gunman.
“You really don’t smell too good, Tank,” she said reloading her Glock. She reloaded and then took Tank`s weapon and did the same. She turned to the backseat and pulled out her first aid kit from underneath it. She assessed Mustapha`s wound and placed a swab dressing on to the gash in the Iraqi man`s head.
“It looks nasty, Tank. He will need stitches and he will definitely have a headache, but I think he will be okay.”
Tank followed the tail lights of the X5 as it headed back toward Porthdafarc beach; he was gaining on it as it swung right taking a turn at a dangerous speed.
“Where does this road lead to, Sian?” Tank asked as he accelerated after the BMW.
Sian was talking into her mobile alerting the customs suite that they had an armed confrontation in progress.
“It`s Porthdafarc road, it heads straight to the town centre. If he doesn’t know his way around here, he`ll miss the turning for the exit road off the island. If he doesn’t take that, he`ll be trapped between us and the Irish Sea.” Sian continued to give details of their pursuit on a shared frequency. All on duty agents would be listening in and reacting to try and help.
“He`s missed the exit road; he`s headed past the fire station toward the bridge. He`s going north past the Kings Head on Lands End road heading for the Newry Beach.”
The Newry beach was essentially a wide promenade road that over looked a marina. Wide grassy areas sloped gently down from the road to the seashore. Yachts floated in rows tied to bright orange buoys, moored safely behind the protection of the breakwater. The breakwater was a huge stone sea wall built for ships to take shelter from the treacherous storms of the Irish Sea. It had a road that ran along the top of it that was easily wide enough for two vehicles to pass side by side and it reached two and a half miles out to sea. The Newry Beach road was a dead end but it gave access to the breakwater road. The BMW accelerated down the promenade; the road was wide and straight. The Jeep lost ground as the faster vehicle utilized the wide road. Tank looked into the rear view mirror and saw the flashing blue lights of the local police joining the pursuit. The brake lights on the X5 illuminated as the driver neared the end of the promenade and smoke came from the tires as he braked hard swerving the vehicle onto the breakwater road.
The road weaved through a small wooded copse, dry stonewalls were on either side. In the headlights a large derelict building stood out from the darkness. Once painted white and built in the style of a mock castle it had been a beautiful hotel. The once white walls were now covered in green moss, the windows dark and empty, it was an eerie sight.
“We are in pursuit following the X5 past the old Soldiers Point hotel. He is trapped now,” Sian said as she switched the safety off her weapon. The vehicles burst free from the wooded road and roared onto the open breakwater. The BMW sprayed gravel from beneath its wheels, the stones bounced off the windscreen of the Jeep behind it as it drove along the top of the giant sea wall. Tank lowered his window and leaned out pointing his Glock 9mm at the vehicle in front. He fired three bullets and sparks shot up from the back of the X5. The rear tail lights on the driver’s side exploded into a cloud of coloured glass. He fired again. This time the rear window smashed, and three large holes the size of a melon appeared in the glass but the vehicle sped on.
Across the marina, Tank saw the flashing emergency lights of the police vehicles as they drove down the Newry beach. A spotlight appeared on the BMW from above. A voice boomed from the loud speaker mounted beneath the helicopter that had joined in the chase. Sian couldn’t hear what the voice was saying but she figured he was telling the driver to pull over and stop. `Just like that! We have been chasing and shooting at the bloke for twenty minutes and that dickhead in the helicopter thinks he will stop if he asks him nicely`, she thought.
She leaned out of her window and fired three shots aiming at the rear tyres of the BMW. Sparks flew from the sea wall and a lump of plastic bumper material was blasted off the vehicle, it veered viciously to the left slamming into the crash barriers, sparks flew as metal ground against solid rock. Then it veered right just as violently and the BMW careered toward the sheer edge of the breakwater wall. The X5 seemed to take off for a second as it left the road, its speed and velocity kept it horizontal for just a moment. Then it nosedived down and was almost vertical when it hit the dark water with a huge splash. The black sea turned white as the vehicle hit it and it floated, bobbing on the surface. The driver made no attempt to escape from his watery grave as the vehicle sank and the water turned dark and became still once more. Tank and Sian stood on the edge of the breakwater some 30 foot above the sea looking for any sign of life as the screaming sirens and flashing lights approached.
“I could do with a bath myself,” Tank said as he turned and walked toward the arriving police cars.