‘Stay in the car with Cam,’ Kingston and the Colonel said in unison.
‘Central 888 from MP, receiving, over?’ the same male voice from the Met’s control room asked over the radio.
‘888 receiving,’ Kingston replied.
‘A Securicor van has pulled up at the bank and three men dressed in blue coveralls, donkey jackets and masks have just left the vehicle.’
‘They’re going to rob the van, not the bank,’ Kingston said calmly. ‘We’re about two minutes away and approaching silent,’ he replied.
Cam switched off the car’s siren.
The man with the sawn-off shotgun tapped the Securicor driver’s window with the barrel and rotated his finger, indicating to him to wind it down, which the driver quickly did. The man leaned into the van and pulled the key from the ignition, then spoke in a deep tone to disguise his natural voice.
‘Keep your hands on the steering wheel. You so much as twitch towards the horn or alarm and I’ll blow your fucking head off.’
The Securicor driver shook with fear as he nodded, and gripped the steering wheel so hard his knuckles turned white.
The man with the Luger was at the back of the van, pushing the barrel of the gun into the neck of the other Securicor guard, who was frozen to the spot. The unarmed robber grabbed the metal case with the money in it from the guard’s hand and pushed him down onto his knees. He leaned forward and whispered, so as not to alert the security guard in the back of the van.
‘Tell him to put the other case in the chute.’
The guard’s voice trembled as he said, ‘There’s only the one.’
The robber shook his head. ‘Don’t lie, son. I don’t want to hurt you, but I will if you don’t do exactly what I tell you.’
‘Frank, George... What’s happening out there? Is everything all right?’ the third guard shouted from inside the van.
The man with the Luger moved around and put the gun to the forehead of the kneeling guard.
‘Last chance, son. Tell him to put the fucking case in the chute.’
The guard was unable to stop shaking and the fear in his voice was evident.
‘Everything’s fine. You can send out the other case.’
Suddenly the van’s alarm went off, closely followed by the sound of a shotgun being fired once. The two robbers at the back of the van ran to the front and saw their colleague standing over a young man lying on the ground, clutching his stomach and crying out in pain. The robber with the shotgun was breathing heavily, causing a white foam of spittle to build up around the mouth hole of his balaclava.
‘The fucking idiot tried to get the shotgun off me.’
The unarmed man raised his hand to shut his colleague up. The man with the Luger turned and headed back to the rear of the van, intent on getting the second cash box. The unarmed robber grabbed him by the arm, shook his head and pulled him toward the Cortina, which skidded to a halt beside the Securicor van.
‘Central 888 from MP, receiving, over?’
‘Go ahead 888, over,’ Kingston replied.
‘Sounds of gunshots heard outside the bank. Local uniform units requesting permission to move in.’
‘ETA, Cam?’ a concerned-looking Kingston asked.
Cam hit the accelerator. ‘A minute, tops, Guv.’
‘MP from 888, local units can move in. Is India 99 in the air?’ Kingston asked, referring to the police helicopter’s call sign.
‘No, at present 99 is refueling, but should be airborne shortly.’
Kingston threw the radio mike against the dashboard.
‘Fuck it. They’ll be well on their way before we get there!’
‘Central 888, update from MP. Call received for an ambulance to Barclays Bank, Leytonstone... One man shot in stomach by an armed suspect.’
The Colonel punched the roof of the car.
‘Bastards. If I get my hands on ’em I’ll fuckin’ kill ’em!’
As the two armed robbers jumped into the Cortina, the unarmed man put the Securicor cash box in a travel bag in the back of the vehicle and got in. The driver knew from experience the ‘Old Bill’ would use the main streets, so he decided to take the back roads and drive within the speed limit. As he indicated right, to turn into Grove Road from the High Road, two uniformed officers in a marked Rover 3500 V8 police car came flying past in the opposite direction, sirens blaring and blue lights flashing. The unarmed man looked over his shoulder, out of the rear window, and saw the brake lights of the police car come on as it skidded to a sudden halt and started to do a U-turn.
‘They’ve seen us — put your foot down and get us out of here,’ he said calmly.
The driver pressed the accelerator hard and turned right across the path of an oncoming car, which swerved across the road and hit another vehicle head-on in the inside lane.
‘This car’s not as powerful as theirs. Maybe we should take a side street down here and bail out while they can’t see us,’ the man with the shotgun suggested.
As the driver approached the junction with Mornington Road, he looked in his rear-view mirror and saw the police car in the distance.
‘That ain’t an option, they’re closing on us.’
He drove straight across the junction into Woodville Road without stopping. An oncoming car clipped the rear of the Cortina, knocking the bumper off and causing the car to judder and swerve erratically. The driver gripped the steering wheel hard to maintain control, but the Cortina sideswiped a parked car and careered across the road. Left with no alternative, the driver hit the brakes hard and skidded across the road, toward another parked car. The four men lurched forward as the car came to an abrupt halt inches from another vehicle. The man with the Luger smashed his head on the front windscreen, causing a deep cut to his forehead, which began to bleed heavily through his stocking mask.
‘Fuck dis for a game of soldiers,’ he said in a broad Irish accent, and got out of the car.
‘Get back in or I’ll go without you!’ the driver shouted.
He was ignored, so he leaned over and pulled the front passenger door closed, then reversed to straighten the car up and drive off.
‘Stop!’ the unarmed man snarled.
He grabbed the shotgun from his colleague’s lap and opened the car door.
‘Central 888 from MP, receiving, over?’
Kingston picked up the radio mike. ‘We’re a mile away at the Langthorne Park end of the High Road and nearly on scene, MP.’
‘Received... I’m linking you up with Juliet 1, who are in pursuit of suspect vehicle Sierra Lima Mike 273 Romeo,’ the radio operator replied.
‘Listen up for their location, Colonel, and find it in the A — Z,’ said Cam.
The calm voice of the PC in Juliet 1 came over the radio. ‘Suspect vehicle has turned right into Grove Road... heading towards junction with Mornington Road.’
‘Got it. Cam,’ the Colonel said, ‘Grove Road is the next right after Aylmer Road. Your best bet to catch up is a right into Lister Road, which leads into Mornington Road. I’ll tell you when Lister is coming up. Thanks, mate.’
Cam was now swerving in and out of the inside lane to the offside lane to overtake other vehicles. Jane was clutching the back of the driver’s seat with one hand and the door pull with the other, to stop herself from being flung about the back seat. Although the speed and manner of Cam’s driving scared her, the adrenaline rush to her body was strangely stimulating. She felt excited to be involved in the apprehension of four armed robbers on her first day with the Flying Squad.
The radio operator on Juliet 1 came back on the radio, the pitch of his voice becoming slightly higher as the pursuit progressed.
‘Suspect vehicle accelerating. Forty... forty-five... fifty miles per hour. Jesus Christ, he’s gone straight across the junction without stopping.’ There was a brief pause before the officer continued, ‘Suspect vehicle has been hit by another car and now stopped in Woodville Road.’