When Your Secret Weapon is a Grumpy Man with a Briefcase
Title: When Your Secret Weapon is a Grumpy Man with a Briefcase
Fandom: Primeval
Characters: Lester, Becker, Connor, Abby, Nick, Jenny, Lorraine, various bit-part OCs (including a tiny showing from a pilot who amuses me so I think I may name him and keep him)
Words: 4,505
Rating, Warnings: PG, langauge only
Disclaimer: Nope, don't own Primeval.
Spoilers: None. Set before the have the anomaly locking device.
AN: Written as a gift fic for darkhorse_99 who wanted a BAMFy Lester story. Happy holidays and I hope you enjoy.
AN2: Apologies for abandoning any pretence of police procedure, and also being quite mean about them. No disrespect intended.
"They have what?!"
Lester stared at Lorraine, his usual unshockable demeanour lost to him.
"Been taken hostage, sir. In a bank robbery."
"Let me get this entirely straight; Connor, Abby, Nick and Jenny all left the anomaly site to get sandwiches for everyone, went via the bank and have stumbled across their very own heist?"
"Botched heist and now hostage situation, sir."
"Yes, thank you for the clarification." Sarcasm dripped from Lester's voice but Lorraine's gaze didn't waver.
Lester stood and smoothed down his suit. “I want to be in a helicopter in five minutes. You can continue to brief me in the air."
"Certainly, sir. Make your way to the heli-field and I'll have it waiting."
Lorraine left the office and Lester paused for a moment, trying to decide what he would need. What did one take to a bank heist negotiation? After a brief pause Lester decided his brain was the best option, his credentials would be helpful, and no civil servant worth his salt would be seen dead without his briefcase.
Moments later Lester was stepping out of a Landover and ducking as he walked towards a light helicopter, rotor blades already turning. He climbed in next to the pilot, stowing his briefcase is the small recess behind him. He pulled on his headphones and mic, buckled in and motioned to the pilot that he was ready.
As the helicopter lifted off, Lorraine’s voice appeared in his ear.
"Can you hear me, sir?"
"Yes, go ahead."
"Armed police have the bank surrounded and a negotiator on scene. There are no reports of any casualties yet but the police are not willing to try anything. The group inside are believed to be responsible for a string of vicious robberies which have so far left multiple people injured and one dead. They are known to be well organised and I have no report yet on what went wrong this time, but we can assume it’s serious and they will not give up easily or quietly."
"Do you know what I like about you Lorraine? You never sugar-coat the truth."
"Good sir, because there's more to come. Since the scientists left the anomaly site, there have been numerous hostile incursions. Becker cannot spare any of the special forces team away front the anomaly."
"Excellent. Fine. Tell Becker to keep coordinating things at the anomaly site, but to keep in touch. For now it looks like we will be in the hands of the police, but I want them to be ready to move the second that anomaly shuts. Understood?"
"Yes, sir."
Lester changed the frequency on his headset.
"How much longer until we arrive?" he asked the pilot.
"About six minutes."
"Just enough time to enjoy the view. Oh look. You can see the anomaly from here."
About six minutes later, the helicopter landed in the road that had very conveniently been closed off. Two police officers rushed towards it as it landed and Lester opened the door and stepped down.
"Sir, you have to remove yourself and your...vehicle...immediately. We have a situation here,” a young looking PC said.
"James Lester, Home Office.” He flashed his credentials. “My vehicle and I are here to stay. My team are hostages in that bank and I want to see the leading officer immediately."
The police officer looked slightly startled and nodded.
"Yes sir, of course. This way."
Lester turned back inside the helicopter to retrieve his briefcase and rolled his eyes at the pilot.
"I'll stay here, sir. In case they try to clamp it." The pilot grinned at Lester and Lester couldn't help a small quirk of the lips in return. But then he turned and followed the police officer towards one of two mobile incident units that were in the road alongside multiple police vehicles. It would appear the local police and his special forces men had taken similar lessons in subtlety and the complete lack thereof.
“Who is in charge?” Lester asked.
“Sergeant Hooper. He’s in here,” the PC gestured to one of the incident units.
Lester gave him a nod of thanks and entered the vehicle. Three uniformed men and a plane-clothes woman all turned to him as he walked in. He pulled out his ID again.
“James Lester, Home Office. I need to speak to Sergeant Hooper alone please.”
“We weren’t aware of any need for the Home Office to be involved in this. I can assure you we have the situation under control.”
“A word alone, Sergeant,” Lester repeated, his tone making it clear he was not to be argued with. The sergeant nodded and the remaining two uniformed officers and the detective left the truck.
“Now, Mr…Lester, is it? What can I do for you that demands such privacy?”
Lester refused the obvious trick to try to undermine him, but handed over his ID so that the officer could study it properly. It used a lot of long words to inform the reader that Lester reported directly to the Minister and that he had the highest possible level of security clearance. It neglected, however, to mention anything about regular dealings with rips in time.
“Four members of my team are in that bank. I want to know what you are doing to get them out unharmed, and reassurance that they are indeed still unharmed.”
“I’m sorry, Mr Lester, but we are not currently releasing any details of those inside the bank and I am certainly not going to reveal details of our intended operation.”
“Sergeant, this is not a time for bureaucracy and…”
“Mr Lester,” Sergeant Hooper interrupted, “this is not a matter of bureaucracy, it is a matter of police procedure and security.”
Lester bristled. “So you are telling me that you are not going to allow me, despite my level one security clearance, to have any information about my team or become involved in this operation at all?”
“No.”
“That is my team in there, I want assurance this instant that they are safe.”
“Look, as I am sure you can understand we are doing all we can to try…”
“All you can do to try?” Lester interrupted, incredulous.
Lester’s temper was suddenly spent and his patience worn. In one smooth movement he raised his briefcase in front of him, gripped the bottom edge in his other hand and snapped his arms forwards. The case hit the police officer square in the face and a rather satisfying crunching sound left Lester in no doubt that he had broken the man’s nose. Lester lost no time. He dropped his briefcase and was on the police officer in a second, spinning him and pulling him back into a head lock.
“I understand police officers are taught unarmed combat to disarm and disable an assailant. Well, where I came from the disabling was a little more literal, and as Connor likes to joke, I can actually kill you with my thumbs. In the position you are currently in I can choose between snapping your neck, putting just enough pressure on your spinal chord that your legs stop working, squeezing your windpipe so your lungs stop working, or crushing your carotid artery so your brain stops working. Or you can tell me all you know about what is going on inside that bank, the state of my team and how you propose to get them out.”
“D…d…decoy,” the sergeant stammered out.
“A decoy? You’re sending a decoy in?”
“They need the bank manager. Only he has safe codes. That’s what has caused the problem. There were changed out of routine and only he knows them. We’re waiting for a trained undercover officer to go in.”
“You need someone to go in posing as a bank manager? Where are these codes?”
“There.” The officer pointed a shaky arm at a computer printout on the side.
Lester relaxed his grip on the sergeant, pushed him upright and away from his body, while turning him around. He straitened the officer’s uniform and brushed him down.
“There now. None of that was so difficult was it? Oh, wait, there is one more thing.” Lester’s arm pulled back then snapped back, catching the man on the jaw, sending him crumpling unconscious to the ground.
Lester bent and picked up his briefcase, grimacing with distance at the blood stain now on it. He clicked it open and placed the bank codes inside. Then he took a minute to make a few more minor adjustments. He stepped out of the mobile unit and shut the door carefully behind him. He nodded to the closest officers.
“Change of plan gentlemen and ma’am. I am going in as the bank manager. I’ve been fully briefed by the sergeant and am more than qualified for this situation. So I’ll be off.”
The officers seemed too stunned to say anything and nobody stopped him as he stepped towards the police tape. His hand dipped into his jacket pocket and he pulled out one of a pair of communications ear-buds he had moved from his briefcase. He raised his hand nonchalantly and slipped it inside.
“Becker. Any chance that you can hear me?” he murmured.
“Lester?” Becker’s voice gave away his surprise.
“Yes. I am about to go into the bank pretending to be the bank manager. They needed a volunteer.”
“The police agreed to let you go in?”
“Agreeing may be stretching the terms of the arrangement slightly; I fear Jenny is going to be reasonably busy later. I know you can’t leave the anomaly site yet, but I want you to monitor these comms the best you can. And get someone on a computer terminal.”
“Anything I can do, sir. Good luck.”
Lester raised his arms in the universal sign of surrender as he neared the bank, briefcase dangling from one thumb. The door was opened and an arm pulled him inside. He took a moment to take stock, looking around the bank at the assorted huddling hostages as the door was slammed shut and locked behind him.
He also counted three men in balaclavas carrying guns dotted around the bank floor, including next to him.
“You’re the bank manager?” a voice asked from behind the closest balaclava and a pistol was thrust into his face.
“Yes I am, and would you mind pointing that thing away from me please.”
“You’re a bank manager. Bank managers are scared when a gun is pointed at them.” Becker’s voice came trough his earpiece and Lester rather had to admit that he made a good point. But how did one act scared?
Temple. Temple looked like he was on the edge of panic most of the time. What did he do? Lester opened his eyes wide and stared at the gun rather than the man.
“P…p…please stop pointing that gun at me. I’ve never liked guns. They scare me. Even on the television. I’ve never let any of my kids have guns.”
“You’re babbling. Wait, you’re being Connor aren’t you?” Lester was fairly sure Becker was sniggering.
“Have you got the codes to the vault?” the man asked.
“Yes, y…yes. In here.” He held up the briefcase.
“We’ll look at that in a moment. I just want to make sure you haven’t brought anything else in with you first.”
Before Lester could protest the man made quick work of patting Lester down for weapons. Then he pulled open Lester’s shirt, buttons flying off in all directions. It was all Lester could do to not growl. It was a bloody expensive shirt.
“Good, clean. No wire. Now bring that briefcase over here.”
Lester followed the man over to a group of desks. The thief was obviously heading for the last in the row, but Lester spotted his team grouped together behind the second table along.
Adding a slight tremor to his normally confident walk, Lester stumbled when he got to that table and fell against it. He didn’t look at his team, but from the corner of his eye he could see they were all doing a remarkable job of showing no surprise at his presence. Maybe there was hope for them yet.
As he fell, Lester put a hand out to save himself, and in doing so threw another ear-bud across the table. He couldn’t risk a glance to see who picked it up.
“What’s the problem?” the thief barked at him.
“S…sorry, sorry. I fell.” Lester lifted the briefcase onto the table.
“Fine. Just open it and get them out.”
Lester let his hands shake as he fiddled with the case’s clasp. He started rifling through the contents of the case, getting more and more anxious as he did. In his ear he could hear Becker talking as the soldier obviously picked up that another ear-bud had been activated.
“Cough when I get the right one. Am I talking to Nick? …. Am I talking to Connor?”
A cough sounded next to him. Good. That is what he had hoped.
“Are the four of you okay? Cough if you are all okay.”
Becker’s relief was as palpable through the ear-bud as his own was when Lester heard another cough.
“Come on, we haven’t got all day,” the thief barked in Lester’s face.
“N…no, no of course not.”
Lester started fumbling more, finally turning the briefcase upside down and tipping the contents onto the table in apparent desperation. He sorted through the scattered papers and contents hurriedly, spreading them around the table. He pushed a bit too hard at one red file and it slid off the table towards the hostages, landing with a slightly louder thud than papers should have made. Lester disguised the noise by finally grabbing the print out and making a triumphant noise.
“Here, th…his is them. I’ve got them.”
“About time.” The thief motioned to the other two men in masks. “He’s ready to go down. Get the bags and go with him and get loaded up.”
The two men moved towards him and Lester let himself and the printout be led away towards the vault, something niggling at the back of his mind. As he descended the stairs Becker’s voice appeared in his ear again.
“Connor’s online, sir. He’s saying three thieves, one up with them and two down with you. Is that what you have seen too? One cough for yes, two for no.”
Lester coughed once.
“Do you want Connor and the others to try to overpower the remaining man still upstairs with them?”
Lester dissolved into an emphatic coughing fit.
“Okay, Connor, you heard that. Wait for Lester’s move.” Lester heard a small snort of amusement from Becker. “Connor says he’s more than fine with that plan. Connor, just keep gathering and passing as much intel as you can with the PDA, but do not let yourself be compromised. Lester, I have no idea what you are doing, but please do it safely. I’d hate to have the pressure of delivering all the sarcastic remarks myself.”
Lester wished he had a way of displaying to Becker just how glad he was of his good wishes and pondered a way to make sure the soldier would fully be aware of his feelings when this was all over. His thoughts were disrupted however, by the three of them arriving at the large, walk-in safe door.
One of the men indicated with his gun.
“Open it.”
Wordlessly Lester used the sheet in his hands to work the electronic lock and override the time delay. He pulled the door open, very aware of the two guns still trained on him.
“Inside,” said one of the men.
Lester stepped inside the small vault.
“We’re in.” Lester heard a voice behind him, appearing to be reporting upstairs, before the two men followed him into the vault.
“Point us towards the money we can take. We don’t want anything that is marked, or traceable and no fucking dye packs, okay?”
Lester looked at the packs of bound and shrink-wrapped notes in front of him and wondered how he would tell which was which, before remembering he didn’t care. He started bundling things together and he considered his next move. He suddenly realised the background noise he had been able to hear through the ear-bud had gone. Assuming that the thief had used a radio or mobile phone, the vault itself was obviously preventing signals getting through. Assuming also that the thieves were as professional as Lorraine had indicated they would know this. This meant that Lester had time to act before they would be expected to report in again.
“All this over here, this is all safe,” Lester said.
He heard the men move behind him and took a step back, ensuring that his body connected hard, but ‘accidentally’ with one of the bank robbers. They both staggered backwards, Lester clinging to the thief for support while keeping him off balance, pressed closely to him and muttering apologies. When he finally released the robber he had the other man’s gun in his hand.
He pressed it against the temple of the man next to him and held his hand out for the second man’s gun. There was a stand off for a tense few seconds until the man relented under the gun and Lester’s gaze and handed his weapon over.
Lester backed away from them both and out of the vault. He shut the heavy door behind him and heard the satisfying sound of the electronic lock clicking, followed by the whirring of gears as bolts slid into place. He looked at the two guns in his hands and realised he couldn’t carry both discretely. He checked them both over. He emptied one of them of bullets, slipping them into his inside pocket, before discarding the gun on the floor. He tucked the more lightweight one into the waistband at the back of his trousers. It was a damned stupid place to keep a gun, only slightly less idiotic than down the front of your trousers. At least this way he couldn’t shoot his own cock off.
However, despite how stupid it may have been, the weight of the gun felt comforting against the small of his back.
Lester tried to adjust his ruined shirt, but there were not enough buttons left to even try to do it up again. With a deep sigh Lester turned and started towards the stairs.
“Two overpowered and now locked in the vault. Am heading back upstairs to deal with the last one. I am armed now.” Lester said for Becker and Connor’s benefit.
“Understood. The anomaly has closed and I have a group en route; will be liaising with Connor.”
Lester paused and stood stock still.
The thing that had been niggling all this time stopped niggling and made itself very obvious. There wasn’t enough of them. Armed or not, no robbers of this calibre and experience would leave only one armed man alone with that many hostages. One of the hostages wasn’t; someone was a plant. Which would mean they were probably armed, but no one would be able to tell who it was. And you don’t watch fellow hostages for hostility. What if Connor had already been compromised?
Shit.
It was a stupid mistake, one he shouldn’t have made. Lester ran for the stairs, taking them two at a time. Becker was feeding updates into his ear with a confidence that didn’t require a reply from Lester. It took all of Lester’s self control to slow himself as he entered the main banking area again. The thief in the balaclava looked at him, swinging his gun around to point at him.
“What are you doing here?”
“They told me to come up. They were clearing out the safe.”
“You’ve lost your stammer.”
“Oh dear.”
“You’re not a bank manager are you?” the thief still spoke with the confidence of a man with a gun who knew he still had numbers on his side.
“Dear god, no.”
“Police then.”
Lester sneered. “Even worse; I represent the Home Office.”
“You’re a civil servant.” The thief laughed and gave him a look of contempt.
“That doesn’t mean I have to be civilised.”
“Tell me you didn’t just say that out loud.”
Lester just managed to check an eye roll and wished that he had a way of berating Becker without giving the game away. He just hoped that all this was keeping the two pairs of eyes he needed on him, on him.
His heart sank as he heard an angry shout behind him followed by sounds of scuffling and shouts of protest from his team members. The PDA Lester had thrown at Connor inside the red file flew through the air and skittered to the ground next to him. He kept his eyes on the masked thief in front of him, but tracked the movement out of the corner of his eye. Connor was dragged into his line of sight, hands raised to shoulder level, held in the firm grip of another ‘customer’, gun aimed at his head. The plain-clothes thief pulled Connor until he was standing next to the masked robber.
Becker’s voice continued its updates in his ear.
“Been sending everything to the police have you? Well, nice try, but they can’t stop us. They haven’t been able to stop us up ‘til now and this will be no different. Even if you’re not police, you’re involved with them somehow, and I think we’ve just bought the best hostages ever.”
“You would be better off if we were police. No, you have encountered something far worse.”
“And what is that?” sneered the robber.
“A pissed off civil servant with a too small budget, the most expensive team of so-called experts in history that he cannot afford to lose or replace, a head of security with a ridiculous sense of humour and access to dinosaurs.”
“What?”
The words were barely out of the thief’s mouth, when the front door opened and two small, grey shapes tumbled inside. Skidding on the shiny floor for a bit they finally found their feet. They seemed to spot Connor at the same time as each other and barrelled towards him, sharp beaks snapping, teeth flashing.
“What the fuck?!”
Both thieves started screaming. The one holding Connor released him and staggered backwards. The other levelled his gun at the two over-excited diictadons. Before he had a chance to pull the trigger there was a loud bang that resounded around the room. With a scream of pain the masked thief dropped his gun, his hand a bloody mess of flesh and bone, from where the bullet had torn into his wrist. He stood holding his hand and screaming, while Lester, gun in hand, turned to the remaining, retreating thief. Connor had dropped to the floor at the first shot and was being nuzzled half to death by Sid and Nancy, giving Lester a clear line of fire.
“Stop now and I won’t shoot, but give me just one excuse.”
The man stopped and turned slowly around and raised his hands, dropping his gun to the floor.
“Clear!” Lester shouted.
Abby ran past him and kicked both of the thieves’ guns away from them, before moving to Connor and helping him move Sid and Nancy out of the way. Seconds later the bank doors opened again and a group of special forces soldiers moved in, led by Becker.
“There are two more down in the vault.” Lester lowered his gun and made it safe as soon as he was certain the two thieves in front of him were covered. He turned to Becker. “Where are the police?”
“Pulled rank. I wanted my men in first.” He looked around. “Is everyone okay?”
Nick and Jenny approached them too.
“We’re fine,” Nick replied for them.
“Would quite like to get out of here now though. Had about as much of the inside of a bank as I can take for one day,” Jenny said as the shot man and plain-clothes thief were led past them and out to the waiting police.
“You go, we’ll clean up in here. We’ll remove the creatures discretely too,” Becker said to Connor and Abby.
“It was a good distraction, Becker,” Lester said.
“It was a good speech, sir,” Becker returned the compliment.
“Except you meant synapsids,” Connor put in.
“What?” Lester asked.
“You said you had access to dinosaurs. While that is true, in this instance they were… never mind.” Lester’s withering glare had its desired effect and Connor stopped talking.
“Our cue to leave,” Abby said, and the group headed out through the door. Outside, a police inspector who had arrived on the scene while they were inside, approached Lester and his team.
“James Lester I presume.”
“Inspector.”
“Ignoring for the time being why one of my sergeants has a broken nose and very bruised jaw, can you explain to me why two of the gang are reporting wild creatures with tusks attacking them?”
As he spoke Becker and one of his men exited the bank with a dog carrier each in their arms.
“Wild creatures, inspector? As you can see it was nothing more than two Westies.” Becker said.
He turned one of the carriers to face them and Lester could see a small, white, furry face peering out through the mesh. A small pink tongue flicked out and licked the bars.
Desperately ignoring the muffled giggling of his team and carefully avoiding Becker’s eyes, Lester turned back to the inspector.
“It appears that these bank robbers you have been fearing for so long are easily startled by terriers. Maybe a consideration for your dog unit. Alsatians are clearly just overkill.”
Lester finally allowed himself a satisfied smile and walked away from the bank, his team following him. He paused after a couple of steps and turned around.
“And where do you think you are going?”
“Aren’t we going back to the ARC now?” Connor asked.
“Yes, and my helicopter is this way, I believe your cars are that way. And Jenny, your work for the day is just beginning.” He motioned them away with a dismissive wave of his hand. Nick, Jenny and Abby gave a small smile and turned away, before Connor followed them with a disappointed look.
Lester watched them walk away, Abby pulling Connor into an affectionate one armed hug. Nick said something that made Jenny laugh, then he saw her square her shoulders as she approached the police inspector again. Becker and his team were at the other end of the road ignoring the assorted police officers trying to look at their equipment and readying to depart.
With a begrudging, but satisfied, smile, Lester smoothed down his suit and quickly covered the distance to the waiting helicopter. The blades were rotating by the time he arrived and he climbed into his seat. Lester strapped in and pulled on his headphone and mic.
“Ready to go, sir?” the pilot asked.
“Yes. No. Bugger. I’ve left my sodding briefcase in the blessed bank.”
Fandom: Primeval
Characters: Lester, Becker, Connor, Abby, Nick, Jenny, Lorraine, various bit-part OCs (including a tiny showing from a pilot who amuses me so I think I may name him and keep him)
Words: 4,505
Rating, Warnings: PG, langauge only
Disclaimer: Nope, don't own Primeval.
Spoilers: None. Set before the have the anomaly locking device.
AN: Written as a gift fic for darkhorse_99 who wanted a BAMFy Lester story. Happy holidays and I hope you enjoy.
AN2: Apologies for abandoning any pretence of police procedure, and also being quite mean about them. No disrespect intended.
"They have what?!"
Lester stared at Lorraine, his usual unshockable demeanour lost to him.
"Been taken hostage, sir. In a bank robbery."
"Let me get this entirely straight; Connor, Abby, Nick and Jenny all left the anomaly site to get sandwiches for everyone, went via the bank and have stumbled across their very own heist?"
"Botched heist and now hostage situation, sir."
"Yes, thank you for the clarification." Sarcasm dripped from Lester's voice but Lorraine's gaze didn't waver.
Lester stood and smoothed down his suit. “I want to be in a helicopter in five minutes. You can continue to brief me in the air."
"Certainly, sir. Make your way to the heli-field and I'll have it waiting."
Lorraine left the office and Lester paused for a moment, trying to decide what he would need. What did one take to a bank heist negotiation? After a brief pause Lester decided his brain was the best option, his credentials would be helpful, and no civil servant worth his salt would be seen dead without his briefcase.
Moments later Lester was stepping out of a Landover and ducking as he walked towards a light helicopter, rotor blades already turning. He climbed in next to the pilot, stowing his briefcase is the small recess behind him. He pulled on his headphones and mic, buckled in and motioned to the pilot that he was ready.
As the helicopter lifted off, Lorraine’s voice appeared in his ear.
"Can you hear me, sir?"
"Yes, go ahead."
"Armed police have the bank surrounded and a negotiator on scene. There are no reports of any casualties yet but the police are not willing to try anything. The group inside are believed to be responsible for a string of vicious robberies which have so far left multiple people injured and one dead. They are known to be well organised and I have no report yet on what went wrong this time, but we can assume it’s serious and they will not give up easily or quietly."
"Do you know what I like about you Lorraine? You never sugar-coat the truth."
"Good sir, because there's more to come. Since the scientists left the anomaly site, there have been numerous hostile incursions. Becker cannot spare any of the special forces team away front the anomaly."
"Excellent. Fine. Tell Becker to keep coordinating things at the anomaly site, but to keep in touch. For now it looks like we will be in the hands of the police, but I want them to be ready to move the second that anomaly shuts. Understood?"
"Yes, sir."
Lester changed the frequency on his headset.
"How much longer until we arrive?" he asked the pilot.
"About six minutes."
"Just enough time to enjoy the view. Oh look. You can see the anomaly from here."
About six minutes later, the helicopter landed in the road that had very conveniently been closed off. Two police officers rushed towards it as it landed and Lester opened the door and stepped down.
"Sir, you have to remove yourself and your...vehicle...immediately. We have a situation here,” a young looking PC said.
"James Lester, Home Office.” He flashed his credentials. “My vehicle and I are here to stay. My team are hostages in that bank and I want to see the leading officer immediately."
The police officer looked slightly startled and nodded.
"Yes sir, of course. This way."
Lester turned back inside the helicopter to retrieve his briefcase and rolled his eyes at the pilot.
"I'll stay here, sir. In case they try to clamp it." The pilot grinned at Lester and Lester couldn't help a small quirk of the lips in return. But then he turned and followed the police officer towards one of two mobile incident units that were in the road alongside multiple police vehicles. It would appear the local police and his special forces men had taken similar lessons in subtlety and the complete lack thereof.
“Who is in charge?” Lester asked.
“Sergeant Hooper. He’s in here,” the PC gestured to one of the incident units.
Lester gave him a nod of thanks and entered the vehicle. Three uniformed men and a plane-clothes woman all turned to him as he walked in. He pulled out his ID again.
“James Lester, Home Office. I need to speak to Sergeant Hooper alone please.”
“We weren’t aware of any need for the Home Office to be involved in this. I can assure you we have the situation under control.”
“A word alone, Sergeant,” Lester repeated, his tone making it clear he was not to be argued with. The sergeant nodded and the remaining two uniformed officers and the detective left the truck.
“Now, Mr…Lester, is it? What can I do for you that demands such privacy?”
Lester refused the obvious trick to try to undermine him, but handed over his ID so that the officer could study it properly. It used a lot of long words to inform the reader that Lester reported directly to the Minister and that he had the highest possible level of security clearance. It neglected, however, to mention anything about regular dealings with rips in time.
“Four members of my team are in that bank. I want to know what you are doing to get them out unharmed, and reassurance that they are indeed still unharmed.”
“I’m sorry, Mr Lester, but we are not currently releasing any details of those inside the bank and I am certainly not going to reveal details of our intended operation.”
“Sergeant, this is not a time for bureaucracy and…”
“Mr Lester,” Sergeant Hooper interrupted, “this is not a matter of bureaucracy, it is a matter of police procedure and security.”
Lester bristled. “So you are telling me that you are not going to allow me, despite my level one security clearance, to have any information about my team or become involved in this operation at all?”
“No.”
“That is my team in there, I want assurance this instant that they are safe.”
“Look, as I am sure you can understand we are doing all we can to try…”
“All you can do to try?” Lester interrupted, incredulous.
Lester’s temper was suddenly spent and his patience worn. In one smooth movement he raised his briefcase in front of him, gripped the bottom edge in his other hand and snapped his arms forwards. The case hit the police officer square in the face and a rather satisfying crunching sound left Lester in no doubt that he had broken the man’s nose. Lester lost no time. He dropped his briefcase and was on the police officer in a second, spinning him and pulling him back into a head lock.
“I understand police officers are taught unarmed combat to disarm and disable an assailant. Well, where I came from the disabling was a little more literal, and as Connor likes to joke, I can actually kill you with my thumbs. In the position you are currently in I can choose between snapping your neck, putting just enough pressure on your spinal chord that your legs stop working, squeezing your windpipe so your lungs stop working, or crushing your carotid artery so your brain stops working. Or you can tell me all you know about what is going on inside that bank, the state of my team and how you propose to get them out.”
“D…d…decoy,” the sergeant stammered out.
“A decoy? You’re sending a decoy in?”
“They need the bank manager. Only he has safe codes. That’s what has caused the problem. There were changed out of routine and only he knows them. We’re waiting for a trained undercover officer to go in.”
“You need someone to go in posing as a bank manager? Where are these codes?”
“There.” The officer pointed a shaky arm at a computer printout on the side.
Lester relaxed his grip on the sergeant, pushed him upright and away from his body, while turning him around. He straitened the officer’s uniform and brushed him down.
“There now. None of that was so difficult was it? Oh, wait, there is one more thing.” Lester’s arm pulled back then snapped back, catching the man on the jaw, sending him crumpling unconscious to the ground.
Lester bent and picked up his briefcase, grimacing with distance at the blood stain now on it. He clicked it open and placed the bank codes inside. Then he took a minute to make a few more minor adjustments. He stepped out of the mobile unit and shut the door carefully behind him. He nodded to the closest officers.
“Change of plan gentlemen and ma’am. I am going in as the bank manager. I’ve been fully briefed by the sergeant and am more than qualified for this situation. So I’ll be off.”
The officers seemed too stunned to say anything and nobody stopped him as he stepped towards the police tape. His hand dipped into his jacket pocket and he pulled out one of a pair of communications ear-buds he had moved from his briefcase. He raised his hand nonchalantly and slipped it inside.
“Becker. Any chance that you can hear me?” he murmured.
“Lester?” Becker’s voice gave away his surprise.
“Yes. I am about to go into the bank pretending to be the bank manager. They needed a volunteer.”
“The police agreed to let you go in?”
“Agreeing may be stretching the terms of the arrangement slightly; I fear Jenny is going to be reasonably busy later. I know you can’t leave the anomaly site yet, but I want you to monitor these comms the best you can. And get someone on a computer terminal.”
“Anything I can do, sir. Good luck.”
Lester raised his arms in the universal sign of surrender as he neared the bank, briefcase dangling from one thumb. The door was opened and an arm pulled him inside. He took a moment to take stock, looking around the bank at the assorted huddling hostages as the door was slammed shut and locked behind him.
He also counted three men in balaclavas carrying guns dotted around the bank floor, including next to him.
“You’re the bank manager?” a voice asked from behind the closest balaclava and a pistol was thrust into his face.
“Yes I am, and would you mind pointing that thing away from me please.”
“You’re a bank manager. Bank managers are scared when a gun is pointed at them.” Becker’s voice came trough his earpiece and Lester rather had to admit that he made a good point. But how did one act scared?
Temple. Temple looked like he was on the edge of panic most of the time. What did he do? Lester opened his eyes wide and stared at the gun rather than the man.
“P…p…please stop pointing that gun at me. I’ve never liked guns. They scare me. Even on the television. I’ve never let any of my kids have guns.”
“You’re babbling. Wait, you’re being Connor aren’t you?” Lester was fairly sure Becker was sniggering.
“Have you got the codes to the vault?” the man asked.
“Yes, y…yes. In here.” He held up the briefcase.
“We’ll look at that in a moment. I just want to make sure you haven’t brought anything else in with you first.”
Before Lester could protest the man made quick work of patting Lester down for weapons. Then he pulled open Lester’s shirt, buttons flying off in all directions. It was all Lester could do to not growl. It was a bloody expensive shirt.
“Good, clean. No wire. Now bring that briefcase over here.”
Lester followed the man over to a group of desks. The thief was obviously heading for the last in the row, but Lester spotted his team grouped together behind the second table along.
Adding a slight tremor to his normally confident walk, Lester stumbled when he got to that table and fell against it. He didn’t look at his team, but from the corner of his eye he could see they were all doing a remarkable job of showing no surprise at his presence. Maybe there was hope for them yet.
As he fell, Lester put a hand out to save himself, and in doing so threw another ear-bud across the table. He couldn’t risk a glance to see who picked it up.
“What’s the problem?” the thief barked at him.
“S…sorry, sorry. I fell.” Lester lifted the briefcase onto the table.
“Fine. Just open it and get them out.”
Lester let his hands shake as he fiddled with the case’s clasp. He started rifling through the contents of the case, getting more and more anxious as he did. In his ear he could hear Becker talking as the soldier obviously picked up that another ear-bud had been activated.
“Cough when I get the right one. Am I talking to Nick? …. Am I talking to Connor?”
A cough sounded next to him. Good. That is what he had hoped.
“Are the four of you okay? Cough if you are all okay.”
Becker’s relief was as palpable through the ear-bud as his own was when Lester heard another cough.
“Come on, we haven’t got all day,” the thief barked in Lester’s face.
“N…no, no of course not.”
Lester started fumbling more, finally turning the briefcase upside down and tipping the contents onto the table in apparent desperation. He sorted through the scattered papers and contents hurriedly, spreading them around the table. He pushed a bit too hard at one red file and it slid off the table towards the hostages, landing with a slightly louder thud than papers should have made. Lester disguised the noise by finally grabbing the print out and making a triumphant noise.
“Here, th…his is them. I’ve got them.”
“About time.” The thief motioned to the other two men in masks. “He’s ready to go down. Get the bags and go with him and get loaded up.”
The two men moved towards him and Lester let himself and the printout be led away towards the vault, something niggling at the back of his mind. As he descended the stairs Becker’s voice appeared in his ear again.
“Connor’s online, sir. He’s saying three thieves, one up with them and two down with you. Is that what you have seen too? One cough for yes, two for no.”
Lester coughed once.
“Do you want Connor and the others to try to overpower the remaining man still upstairs with them?”
Lester dissolved into an emphatic coughing fit.
“Okay, Connor, you heard that. Wait for Lester’s move.” Lester heard a small snort of amusement from Becker. “Connor says he’s more than fine with that plan. Connor, just keep gathering and passing as much intel as you can with the PDA, but do not let yourself be compromised. Lester, I have no idea what you are doing, but please do it safely. I’d hate to have the pressure of delivering all the sarcastic remarks myself.”
Lester wished he had a way of displaying to Becker just how glad he was of his good wishes and pondered a way to make sure the soldier would fully be aware of his feelings when this was all over. His thoughts were disrupted however, by the three of them arriving at the large, walk-in safe door.
One of the men indicated with his gun.
“Open it.”
Wordlessly Lester used the sheet in his hands to work the electronic lock and override the time delay. He pulled the door open, very aware of the two guns still trained on him.
“Inside,” said one of the men.
Lester stepped inside the small vault.
“We’re in.” Lester heard a voice behind him, appearing to be reporting upstairs, before the two men followed him into the vault.
“Point us towards the money we can take. We don’t want anything that is marked, or traceable and no fucking dye packs, okay?”
Lester looked at the packs of bound and shrink-wrapped notes in front of him and wondered how he would tell which was which, before remembering he didn’t care. He started bundling things together and he considered his next move. He suddenly realised the background noise he had been able to hear through the ear-bud had gone. Assuming that the thief had used a radio or mobile phone, the vault itself was obviously preventing signals getting through. Assuming also that the thieves were as professional as Lorraine had indicated they would know this. This meant that Lester had time to act before they would be expected to report in again.
“All this over here, this is all safe,” Lester said.
He heard the men move behind him and took a step back, ensuring that his body connected hard, but ‘accidentally’ with one of the bank robbers. They both staggered backwards, Lester clinging to the thief for support while keeping him off balance, pressed closely to him and muttering apologies. When he finally released the robber he had the other man’s gun in his hand.
He pressed it against the temple of the man next to him and held his hand out for the second man’s gun. There was a stand off for a tense few seconds until the man relented under the gun and Lester’s gaze and handed his weapon over.
Lester backed away from them both and out of the vault. He shut the heavy door behind him and heard the satisfying sound of the electronic lock clicking, followed by the whirring of gears as bolts slid into place. He looked at the two guns in his hands and realised he couldn’t carry both discretely. He checked them both over. He emptied one of them of bullets, slipping them into his inside pocket, before discarding the gun on the floor. He tucked the more lightweight one into the waistband at the back of his trousers. It was a damned stupid place to keep a gun, only slightly less idiotic than down the front of your trousers. At least this way he couldn’t shoot his own cock off.
However, despite how stupid it may have been, the weight of the gun felt comforting against the small of his back.
Lester tried to adjust his ruined shirt, but there were not enough buttons left to even try to do it up again. With a deep sigh Lester turned and started towards the stairs.
“Two overpowered and now locked in the vault. Am heading back upstairs to deal with the last one. I am armed now.” Lester said for Becker and Connor’s benefit.
“Understood. The anomaly has closed and I have a group en route; will be liaising with Connor.”
Lester paused and stood stock still.
The thing that had been niggling all this time stopped niggling and made itself very obvious. There wasn’t enough of them. Armed or not, no robbers of this calibre and experience would leave only one armed man alone with that many hostages. One of the hostages wasn’t; someone was a plant. Which would mean they were probably armed, but no one would be able to tell who it was. And you don’t watch fellow hostages for hostility. What if Connor had already been compromised?
Shit.
It was a stupid mistake, one he shouldn’t have made. Lester ran for the stairs, taking them two at a time. Becker was feeding updates into his ear with a confidence that didn’t require a reply from Lester. It took all of Lester’s self control to slow himself as he entered the main banking area again. The thief in the balaclava looked at him, swinging his gun around to point at him.
“What are you doing here?”
“They told me to come up. They were clearing out the safe.”
“You’ve lost your stammer.”
“Oh dear.”
“You’re not a bank manager are you?” the thief still spoke with the confidence of a man with a gun who knew he still had numbers on his side.
“Dear god, no.”
“Police then.”
Lester sneered. “Even worse; I represent the Home Office.”
“You’re a civil servant.” The thief laughed and gave him a look of contempt.
“That doesn’t mean I have to be civilised.”
“Tell me you didn’t just say that out loud.”
Lester just managed to check an eye roll and wished that he had a way of berating Becker without giving the game away. He just hoped that all this was keeping the two pairs of eyes he needed on him, on him.
His heart sank as he heard an angry shout behind him followed by sounds of scuffling and shouts of protest from his team members. The PDA Lester had thrown at Connor inside the red file flew through the air and skittered to the ground next to him. He kept his eyes on the masked thief in front of him, but tracked the movement out of the corner of his eye. Connor was dragged into his line of sight, hands raised to shoulder level, held in the firm grip of another ‘customer’, gun aimed at his head. The plain-clothes thief pulled Connor until he was standing next to the masked robber.
Becker’s voice continued its updates in his ear.
“Been sending everything to the police have you? Well, nice try, but they can’t stop us. They haven’t been able to stop us up ‘til now and this will be no different. Even if you’re not police, you’re involved with them somehow, and I think we’ve just bought the best hostages ever.”
“You would be better off if we were police. No, you have encountered something far worse.”
“And what is that?” sneered the robber.
“A pissed off civil servant with a too small budget, the most expensive team of so-called experts in history that he cannot afford to lose or replace, a head of security with a ridiculous sense of humour and access to dinosaurs.”
“What?”
The words were barely out of the thief’s mouth, when the front door opened and two small, grey shapes tumbled inside. Skidding on the shiny floor for a bit they finally found their feet. They seemed to spot Connor at the same time as each other and barrelled towards him, sharp beaks snapping, teeth flashing.
“What the fuck?!”
Both thieves started screaming. The one holding Connor released him and staggered backwards. The other levelled his gun at the two over-excited diictadons. Before he had a chance to pull the trigger there was a loud bang that resounded around the room. With a scream of pain the masked thief dropped his gun, his hand a bloody mess of flesh and bone, from where the bullet had torn into his wrist. He stood holding his hand and screaming, while Lester, gun in hand, turned to the remaining, retreating thief. Connor had dropped to the floor at the first shot and was being nuzzled half to death by Sid and Nancy, giving Lester a clear line of fire.
“Stop now and I won’t shoot, but give me just one excuse.”
The man stopped and turned slowly around and raised his hands, dropping his gun to the floor.
“Clear!” Lester shouted.
Abby ran past him and kicked both of the thieves’ guns away from them, before moving to Connor and helping him move Sid and Nancy out of the way. Seconds later the bank doors opened again and a group of special forces soldiers moved in, led by Becker.
“There are two more down in the vault.” Lester lowered his gun and made it safe as soon as he was certain the two thieves in front of him were covered. He turned to Becker. “Where are the police?”
“Pulled rank. I wanted my men in first.” He looked around. “Is everyone okay?”
Nick and Jenny approached them too.
“We’re fine,” Nick replied for them.
“Would quite like to get out of here now though. Had about as much of the inside of a bank as I can take for one day,” Jenny said as the shot man and plain-clothes thief were led past them and out to the waiting police.
“You go, we’ll clean up in here. We’ll remove the creatures discretely too,” Becker said to Connor and Abby.
“It was a good distraction, Becker,” Lester said.
“It was a good speech, sir,” Becker returned the compliment.
“Except you meant synapsids,” Connor put in.
“What?” Lester asked.
“You said you had access to dinosaurs. While that is true, in this instance they were… never mind.” Lester’s withering glare had its desired effect and Connor stopped talking.
“Our cue to leave,” Abby said, and the group headed out through the door. Outside, a police inspector who had arrived on the scene while they were inside, approached Lester and his team.
“James Lester I presume.”
“Inspector.”
“Ignoring for the time being why one of my sergeants has a broken nose and very bruised jaw, can you explain to me why two of the gang are reporting wild creatures with tusks attacking them?”
As he spoke Becker and one of his men exited the bank with a dog carrier each in their arms.
“Wild creatures, inspector? As you can see it was nothing more than two Westies.” Becker said.
He turned one of the carriers to face them and Lester could see a small, white, furry face peering out through the mesh. A small pink tongue flicked out and licked the bars.
Desperately ignoring the muffled giggling of his team and carefully avoiding Becker’s eyes, Lester turned back to the inspector.
“It appears that these bank robbers you have been fearing for so long are easily startled by terriers. Maybe a consideration for your dog unit. Alsatians are clearly just overkill.”
Lester finally allowed himself a satisfied smile and walked away from the bank, his team following him. He paused after a couple of steps and turned around.
“And where do you think you are going?”
“Aren’t we going back to the ARC now?” Connor asked.
“Yes, and my helicopter is this way, I believe your cars are that way. And Jenny, your work for the day is just beginning.” He motioned them away with a dismissive wave of his hand. Nick, Jenny and Abby gave a small smile and turned away, before Connor followed them with a disappointed look.
Lester watched them walk away, Abby pulling Connor into an affectionate one armed hug. Nick said something that made Jenny laugh, then he saw her square her shoulders as she approached the police inspector again. Becker and his team were at the other end of the road ignoring the assorted police officers trying to look at their equipment and readying to depart.
With a begrudging, but satisfied, smile, Lester smoothed down his suit and quickly covered the distance to the waiting helicopter. The blades were rotating by the time he arrived and he climbed into his seat. Lester strapped in and pulled on his headphone and mic.
“Ready to go, sir?” the pilot asked.
“Yes. No. Bugger. I’ve left my sodding briefcase in the blessed bank.”