Алистер Маклин - Red Alert

There was a knock at the door.

‘Come in,’ Pugh called.

The man who entered was in his late twenties with short black hair and a stocky physique. He was wearing the uniform of a warder. Lonsdale introduced him to Whitlock as Sergeant Don Harrison who would be driving the police van. Harrison handed Lonsdale a uniform identical to the one he was wearing.

‘There’s a changing room down the hall,’ Pugh said. ‘The desk sergeant will show you the way.’

‘I might as well change in here,’ Lonsdale replied, giving Pugh a mock suspicious look. ‘You’re not expecting any WPCs, are you?’

‘Not today, I’m afraid,’ Pugh said with a smile.

‘How did things go with Alexander?’ Lonsdale asked Harrison as he started to undress.

‘He kicked up a bit of a fuss so we had to drug him. No trouble after that. He’s sleeping it off at the safe house.’

Harrison took a pair of sunglasses from his pocket and handed them to Whitlock. ‘Alexander was wearing these.’

‘Thanks,’ Whitlock said, slipping them on.

‘Are the men ready?’ Lonsdale asked.

‘Yes sir,’ Harrison replied. ‘They’re waiting at the van.’

‘Put them into the cages, we’ll be along in a minute.’

Harrison left the room.

Lonsdale finished dressing, then picked up his clothes from the floor. ‘You don’t mind if I leave these here, do you?’

‘Not at all. Put them on the chair.’ Pugh got to his feet and extended his hand towards Whitlock. ‘Good luck.’

‘Thanks for all your help,’ Whitlock said, shaking Pugh’s hand.

‘Glad to be of service. Major, I’ll speak to you later.’

Lonsdale nodded then left the room with Whitlock. They made their way out into the courtyard where the pale-blue police van was parked. Harrison led them round to the back of the van. The doors were open. Inside was a narrow corridor with three cells on either side of it.

Harrison unlocked one of the cells, removed a pair of handcuffs from his belt and snapped them around Whitlock’s wrists. Whitlock entered the cell and Harrison locked it behind him. Harrison climbed out of the van and locked the doors. He handed the keys to Lonsdale. They got into the cab and Harrison started the engine.

‘Ready, sir?’ Harrison asked, his hand resting lightly on the gear lever.

‘Let’s go.’

Harrison engaged the gears and drove out into Brixton Road, the A23. He kept the speed steady, his eyes continually flickering towards the side mirror.

‘What are you looking for, Sergeant? They’re hardly going to advertise themselves, are they?’

Harrison smiled ruefully but said nothing. They reached the top of Brixton Road and he was about to turn the van into Kennington Park Road when he heard the police car coming up fast behind them. He automatically touched the brake pedal and pulled over to give the police car the right of way. The police car passed them then immediately slowed and the driver indicated for them to stop.

‘What the hell does he want?’ Harrison hissed angrily, pulling up behind the red and white Rover.

‘Whitlock, probably,’ Lonsdale replied, his body tensing as the policeman in the passenger seat got out of the car ahead.

‘You think .. . ?’ Harrison trailed off and nodded to himself.

‘Of course, what could be more natural than a police car and a police van pulled up at the side of the road? Nobody would think of questioning it.’

The policeman knocked on the driver’s window. Harrison opened it.

‘What’s wrong? We’ve got five prisoners in the back who are due at the Old Bailey at twelve o’clock.’

‘You see the woman and the kid in the back of the police car?’ Young asked, making no attempt to disguise his American accent.

‘Yes,’ Harrison replied hesitantly. ‘What about them?’

‘They’re both unconscious. My colleague has a gun trained on them.’ Young put a two-way radio to his lips. ‘Show them the gun.’

Humphries raised the automatic momentarily, then ducked it back out of sight.

‘If you don’t do exactly as I say, he’ll kill them both. Starting with the kid.’

‘What the hell is–’

‘Shut up!’ Young cut sharply across Harrison’s outburst. ‘Switch off the engine.’

‘Do it,’ Lonsdale said softly.

Harrison did as he was told.

‘I’m in charge here,’ Lonsdale said to Young. ‘I demand to know what’s going on.’

‘You will. Now give me the keys,’ Young said, holding out a black-gloved hand.

Harrison looked at Lonsdale, who nodded. He gave them to Young.

‘Get out of the van, both of you,’ Young said, stepping away from the driver’s door.

Again Lonsdale nodded to Harrison, and they got out of the van. Young led Harrison round to where Lonsdale was standing, his eyes riveted on the woman and her son in the back of the police car. He hated any form of hostage-taking, especially when children were involved. He suddenly thought of his own five-year-old daughter, Holly. It only made him more frustrated. He felt so damn helpless. There were times when he really hated the job…

‘Who’s got the keys to the back of the van?’ Young demanded.

‘I have,’ Lonsdale replied.

‘Open the doors.’ Young pointed to Harrison. ‘You, walk beside him. And remember, any heroics and the kid dies.’

Young followed the two men to the back of the van and watched as Lonsdale unlocked the doors and opened them. The men inside the cages began to shout abuse, demanding to know what was happening. Lonsdale had told them to make their performances as realistic as possible: Young mustn’t suspect a thing. Young motioned Lonsdale and Harrison into the back of the van and then climbed in after them.

‘Where’s Alexander?’

‘So that’s what it’s all about,’ Lonsdale said, eyeing Young with disdain.

‘Where is he?’

Lonsdale indicated Whitlock’s cell.

‘Open it.’

Lonsdale and Harrison exchanged glances.

‘I said open it. Unless you want the kid to die.’

Lonsdale took the keys from his pocket, selected one, and unlocked the cell.

‘What’s going on?’ Whitlock snapped as Lonsdale pulled open the door.

‘You’re being sprung,’ Young told him. ‘Now get out of there.’

Whitlock stared at Young with mock disbelief. ‘Who are you?’

‘I’m not a cop, that’s all you need to know for the moment.’

Whitlock pushed past Lonsdale, then extended his manacled hands towards him.

‘You’ve got the key, screw. Uncuff me.’

Young took the key for the handcuffs from Lonsdale, pocketed it, then shoved Harrison and Lonsdale into the empty cell and locked it. He grabbed Whitlock by the arm and led him out of the van, locking the doors behind him.

‘You can uncuff me now,’ Whitlock said, nudging Young with his elbow.

‘Shut up,’ Young snapped, then led Whitlock to the police car. He opened the back door and peered in at Humphries. ‘Is this him?’

Humphries nodded. ‘That’s Reuben all right.’

‘Get in,’ Young said, bundling Whitlock into the back of the police car beside the unconscious Mary Robson. Hurriedly he got into the passenger seat beside Humphries. ‘Let’s get out of here. Fast.’

‘Dave, what’s going on?’ Whitlock asked Humphries. ‘What the hell is going on?’

‘I told you to shut up,’ Young said to Whitlock as Humphries swung the police car back out into the road.

‘I want to know what’s going on!’ Whitlock demanded. ‘And who’s the woman and the kid?’

‘Quit with the questions, okay?’ Young snapped, glaring at Whitlock.

‘I’ve got a right to know–’

‘You say another word and you’ll get the same treatment as those two next to you,’ Young threatened.