Screen of Deceit Read Free Page A

– staggered backwards a step, righted himself, then leapt at the man as he turned and attempted to run away again.
    This time Henry succeeded in wrapping his arms around the man’s waist. He gripped him tight, head tucked in for protection, and heaved him round, trying to slam him against the wall. The suspect pummelled Henry’s head with his fists, shouting obscenities at him as he fought.
    But Henry clung on like a limpet, even though one particularly powerful thump crashed into the side of his head, sending a flash of lightning through his brain.
    And then help arrived as one of the cops from Alpha Six piled in and felled the guy with a blow across his back with his baton, narrowly missing Henry’s head. Henry reared away as the officer sprayed him with a faceful of CS gas just to be on the safe side, ensuring the man was then skilfully taken down and handcuffed within seconds.
    â€˜Pin the bastard down – and call for an ambulance,’ Henry ordered the bobby, who jammed a size eleven Doc Marten boot into the middle of the man’s back, not allowing him the chance to clear the CS away. Henry extracted himself, thankful he hadn’t been clattered with the baton or given an accidental shot of CS, and ran across the wet road to Rik Dean who lay there groaning, holding his right thigh.
    â€˜Ah, shit, shit,’ he grimaced in agony.
    The other cop from Alpha Six was kneeling next to Rik, saying soothing words and holding something that looked like a hankie to Rik’s leg wound.
    Rik looked up at Henry. ‘Bastard shot me … Christ, this hurts …’
    Henry bounced down on to his haunches. ‘It’s OK, pal, ambulance is en route … where is he?’ he asked. Having been involved in his own little fracas, Henry had not seen what had happened on this side of the street.
    â€˜In there,’ Rik gasped as more pain shot through him, whipping him back and causing him to smack his head on the pavement with a horrible, hollow sounding thud. ‘Shit.’ He pointed to the warehouse gates and Henry saw a Judas gate set within the larger gate. Rik’s pain eased momentarily and he looked up pathetically. ‘Am I going to die?’
    â€˜Not bloody likely.’
    â€˜Shit – I always get into trouble with you.’ He was referring to a previous incident when, with Henry, he’d been stabbed by a psychotic child molester they’d been questioning. Henry had saved his life that time.
    â€˜You’ll be OK, honest. He’s only shot you.’
    â€˜Your bedside manner is crap … ahhgh!’ More pain speared through him.
    In the distance Henry heard the ambulance siren closing in. They were a pretty efficient bunch in this neck of the woods. Now he knew he needed to take a step back, take stock of the situation. He stood up, groaning as his stomach muscles tensed from the blow they’d received. He needed to get his thoughts into gear quickly and reprioritise what was going on as, by default, the running of this operation had now dropped into his lap.
    What had started as an attempt to catch a major drug dealer had deteriorated into farce. Nothing new there, Henry thought cynically. Story of my life. Question was, what, if anything, could be salvaged? The priority was to get Rik urgent medical treatment, then to catch the guy who’d shot him and, way down the list, try to achieve the original objective of the operation.
    Henry’s mind buzzed.
    He’d just come along for the ride, nothing else. A bit of a jolly whilst Kate was gallivanting in the Big Smoke with the kids; something to do on what would have been a long, boring evening. A bit of gung-ho policing. Fun. Chasing baddies. Not having any responsibility – that had all been on Rik’s shoulders, but not now.
    He squatted back down. ‘How’s it going?’
    Rik’s face was creased in agony, but he still managed to give Henry a withering look.