Titan

TITAN Chapter 7

Paul could see the cashier in the shop as she continued talking into the phone, realising his cover had been blown, Paul quickly looked for a hiding place away from the hubbub of the street.
He wasn't keen about handing himself in just yet, at least while he had such little information.
It was going to prove difficult travelling anywhere as electronic payments could be traced. The fact his card had been declined would indicate the police had already frozen his bank accounts, restricting his ability to flee the area.
He also knew his phone could be traced and tracked but he had to contact Theresa and Glen to find out more about the case, to tell them what had really happened.
If he was going to go down for something he hadn't done, he would make sure at least a few people knew the truth about the events which had led up to the murders.
The fact is someone had lied to him and set him up but he had to find out who.
Stupidly, he had never asked for the identification of any of the agents involved and had no idea who to contact.
He had to think like the police, think what a cop would do then do the opposite. It was the only way to evade capture.
He assumed the task force would be looking for buses and trains heading to london so got back on the same bus he had travelled on before, heading back towards the docks.
It was a risky move, especially considering the amount of police officers covering the area but he had to move quickly before everyone had chance to see the evening news.
Safely on the bus, Paul plugged his phone into the power bank, anxiously waiting for the battery to charge as the vehicle idled.
The bus eventually departed, just as a convoy of police cars arrived at the electrical shop across from the bus station.
He could see them from his vantage point and noted some of the officers were armed as they spread around to cover as much of the area as possible.
People were ushered inside shops and urged to stay safe until the police had searched the area.
It really was a man hunt, he thought. This was no game. These were serious men, armed and ready to respond if he was sighted.
Luckily the bus was busy and Paul blended in with the horde of passengers heading towards the docks.
If he could, he would board a ship himself but there was nowhere he would even get near a ferry in the present situation, even if he had brought his passport.
Theresa, Glen and Taylor sat quietly in their living room, nibbling on some crisps they'd found in the cupboard.
'I wish he'd ring' moaned Theresa, 'I hate not knowing'.
'If he's got any sense he'll hand himself in' stated Glen.
'He'll just look more guilty if he doesn't'.
'I can't help thinking someone has set him up though' sighed Theresa.
Suddenly the phone on the table began to vibrate.
'My god, it's him' exclaimed Theresa, 'answer it!'.
'You answer it' stressed Glen, 'you're the one he'll want to talk to'.
Theresa grabbed the phone angrily, putting the handset on loudspeaker.
'Paul, where are you?' she gasped.
'Is there anyone there- police I mean?' he questioned.
'No just me, Glen and Taylor. What the hell's happening?' she urged, panicking.
'I managed to get a charger for my phone but the police know I'm still in Portsmouth' he confirmed.
'I'm presently on a bus going around in circles but I can't avoid them forever'.
'The police have been here' added Glen, 'they showed us pictures of you in that car'.
'I know how it looks' stressed Paul, 'the truth is I was on an assignment to transport three informants to the port. I had no idea who they were until you told me about the news'.
'Who gave you the assignment? we'll try and contact them' she urged.
'All I know is they said they were from Scotland yard' he replied. 'One was called Gardner, the other was called Cox. There was another bloke but he never told me his name. They had a headquarters and everything, incredibly convincing. Stupid me I never even asked them for I.D'.
'So you didn't who was in the car?' quizzed Glen, confused.
'I was told they were terrorists who'd turned informants' stressed Paul.
'I can't understand why I've been accused of anything'.
'Listen, if you can get to London, I'll buy a coach ticket on my phone and send the confirmation to you. They only usually need the bar code and they'll let you on' assured Theresa.
'I'm not sure how I'll get to London but thankyou anyway' he said glumley.
'Do you have someone you trust to get you there?' she continued, trying to think ahead.
'There's only Barry that comes to mind' he mused.
'Give me his number and I'll try and get him to pick you up. If not, we'll have to come'.
Glen gritted his teeth at Theresa, making it clear he wasn't keen on harbouring a fugitive.
"What are you doing?' he hissed under his breath.
'I expect Glen wouldn't be keen on risking you all but if you can call Barry, there's a chance he might get me to London at least'.
'Okay' she agreed, slightly relieved. 'Give me his number'.
'Shall I send it on text?' he suggested.
'Probably not a good idea, they'll hack your messages' urged Glen.
'Okay, here's the number' mumbled Paul, reading out his friends contact details from his phone.
In a room in the centre of London, police and detectives were gathering to discuss Paul's involvement in the assassination.
A younger man around Twenty five years of age was presenting the inquiry.
'Hi everyone, for those who don't know me I'm DCI Peter Coates of the south East division. Thankyou everyone for coming at such short notice, obviously this is becoming a massive case and new information is coming in all the time so please bare with me' he urged, shuffling some documents.
'We already know interpol are involved and MI5 have launched their own internal investigation to find out what's gone on. Our suspect obviously wasn't working alone so we need to find out how a low grade traffic officer got his information'.
'What do we actually know about Blake?' asked one of the detectives.
'Not much' replied Coates, 'He's pretty unspectacular really. He was on his last six months in the Met and due to retire in November'.
'Why would he do something like this, has he got involvements with any factions?' inquired another detective.
'Not as we know of' countered Coates, 'but we're getting information on him all the time'.
'Is he fire arms trained?' asked a pretty detective to Coate's left.
'We believe he did service training before he joined the force, hotly tipped to be accepted into the SAS. He might be uninteresting as far as his time in the Met is concerned but he definately has the tools to carry out a hit like this'.
'How were they killed exactly?' added the woman, jotting down notes on a pad.
'Point blank so most likely inside the car, we found a revolver in the dash'.
'He left the murder weapon in the car?' she frowned suspiciously.
'We're still waiting for ballistics to come back but can't see why he would use a different weapon. They've already confirmed it's Paul's prints on the gun handle'.
'Do we have a list of contacts for Blake? someone must know where he is' pressed another man.
'We suspect someone could be harbouring him but it's hard to confirm anything until we get hold of the CCTV from the transport cameras'.
'We've got ANPR from several cameras on route from london to portsmouth confirming Blake was travelling alone in the front so we have to assume he was the driver and assassin'.
'How do we know the victims weren't dead already?' stressed the woman, still busily jotting in her note pad.
'Because....' began Coates,
'We were sent this by a member of the public'.
He picked up a sheet of paper from the desk.
'This was taken by a student who happened to be filming a project in some old buildings, you see clearly the victims, alive and well been loaded into Blake's car'.
'Who are the guys in the Discovery?' quizzed the woman.
'We believe these two are Blake's associates who kidnapped the Diplomat and his aides from the hotel'.
'Why didn't they just shoot the Ireali's themselves? Why bother giving them to Blake?' quizzed the woman.
Coates was beginning to feel under pressure, casting a disapproving glance at the pretty detective.
'Like I said, we're still gathering information but if I had to guess, I would say Blake was meant to deliver the abductees to a third party for ransom purposes'.
'So what do you think happened?' asked another detective curiously.
'We're still getting details on Blake but it appears he has an interest in very anti- Zionistic groups'.
'So has most of the government but this is a bit extreme!' mocked the woman.
'Like I keep saying, we're not sure of anything other than the fact the victims were alive when they got in Blake's car and dead when they came out' stressed Coates.
'Let's get down to business, Blake was last spotted near the Station trying to get out of Portsmouth so he could have headed in a few directions. We've got every force in the country keeping their eyes open, he's got to surface somewhere. Thankyou everybody' concluded Coates, gathering his notes and making an exit.
'Nice work Keynes' scoffed one of the male detectives, kicking the pretty woman's chair.
'Piss off' she cursed scowling.
'You lot just sit there like a bunch of zombies thinking about your next Krispy Kreme' she mocked, referring to the tasty donut confectionery enjoyed by many officers and PCs.
'Actually I was thinking on the same lines as you' added the man, 'Bloke with six months to serve and no previous, goes on a killing spree and even leaves his gun WITH the prints in the vehicle registered under his own name?'.
'I know' agreed the woman, 'I'm not saying he isn't involved on some level but I can't see him as the shooter'.
Carla Keynes was twenty five years of age with raven coloured hair and a sharp tongue to match her brain which often landed her in trouble.
Her senior was a detective named Alister Bishop. He was almost forty years old and beginning to slow down as the rigours of the job started to take their toll.
Carla continued jotting down details from the board at the front of room, obviously unimpressed by the lack of information.
'I can't help feeling this is a set up but work out why this guys involved'.
'I know what you mean' agreed Alistair, the problem is what do we do about it?'.
'If Blake hands himself in, the CPS have already got enough to throw the book at him' urged Carla'.
'We've got to get to him first' urged Alistair, analysing the
list of associates printed on the board
'Theresa Jefferson, old school friend, sounds a good place to start' he mused.
'It says on the report they've already been approached but we know how local coppers work'.
'Yes, they'll have just get her hackles up' urged Carla 'fancy a trip up north?'.