--3--

Duncan put his hands up, backing away.

"Look, lets not do anthin' hasty, all right?" He said nervously.

Mickey didn't take his eyes off the gunmen. For the moment they were both focused on Duncan, who was doing his best to calm them down. He slowly edged his fingers into his back pocket and coaxed out his own warrant card. The waitress glanced at him and then quickly away. She leant a little forward, blocking his movements from view. Mickey could have kissed her. He palmed his warrant fold to the floor and pushed it under a freezer.

Mickey then glanced at the half conscious sergeant, but there was no way to do the same for him without being seen. He had no idea which pocket Boulton kept his card in for a start and searching him was out of the question.

The larger gunman was slowly advancing on Duncan. "Le's do him."

Duncan paled. "Now hold on a-"

"Jackson!" The other gunman snapped, moving his gun to point at his partner. "Back the fuck off! Like 'e said, you start shooting and we'll have half the Met in here. Just tie the bugger up!"

The large gunman stopped, still staring at Duncan. "Wiv what?"

Leather Jacket pointed the gun at the ratty café owner. "You!" He demanded. "You got any rope?"

The café owner looked petrified, obviously trying to think against the panic welling up inside him.

"Cuffs!" The gunman the other had called Jackson said. "If he's a copper, he'll have cuffs."

But Mickey knew Duncan didn't. Now off-duty, they'd left them in the car. Jackson began to search Duncan, poking through his pockets and around his belt.

"Th-there's cable on that shelf." The café owner managed to say, pointing to the far wall.

The leather jacketed gunman went over and pulled out an electrical flex, like the sort found on CD players and video recorders. He shoved it at Jackson. "Tie 'im up!" then pointed at Boulton and Mickey. "And check his mates."

"Do I look like the filth?" Mickey objected as he got to his feet to be searched.

"He's got nothing to do wi' this." Duncan told them, wincing as he was bound.

The smaller gunman hissed. "Gag him 'n' all."

Mickey's pockets were checked, hands feeling him up and down. His wallet and the £30 inside were taken out and examined, and not returned. Then the gunman moved on to Boulton, making the injured man moan as he roughly frisked him.

They found his badge in his pocket.

---

The area had been cordoned off, and the place was buzzing with police officers. Members of the public had gathered in front of the tapes, gawping at the carnage like it was the next best thing to an episode of EastEnders. On the road there were two ARV's, parked at angles in front of the Ronnie's café, providing cover for the SO19 officers who had trained their weapons on the smashed windows of the little greasy spoon.

As Meadows car pulled up, an ambulance took away with the guard, sirens going intermittently, warning people to get out of the way. But it wasn't in any real hurry. None of the Securicor personnel had survived the explosion.

Meadows and Brownlow got out of the car and strode over to Kerry, who was standing with Tony and Reg and a dark-haired heavily armoured officer who was obviously in charge of the SO19 units.

"Sir." Kerry said. "This is Inspector Peter Yates of SO19."

"What the sit rep?" Meadows asked.

"We know there are at least two gunmen." Yates said. "We believe they've taken several hostages, including 3 of your men, into a back room of the café. I have several men posted around the building but so far we've had no visual contact."

Meadows frowned. "Are you sure Boulton, Webb and Lennox are inside?"

"I saw them go in myself, sir." Kerry told them. "I also witnessed the attempt on the Securicor van. They must have used some sort of explosive. I guess they thought that was a way to get past the security systems."

Brownlow glanced at the upturned van. "It worked."

"We think someone was injured in the blast." Tony cut in.

"Duncan called for an ambulance on his mobile phone shortly after the explosion." Kerry explained. "But he didn't give any indication as to who it was or how seriously they were injured."

Meadows frowned. "Has anyone tried to call Duncan?"

"We didn't want to risk spooking the gunmen." Kerry replied.

"And they haven't made any threats? No bargains?" Brownlow asked.

"No. We're setting up an open line on the café's landline now." Yates said. "We should be able to talk to them within the next ten minutes."

"Good." Meadows told them. "I want this sorted before it gets out of control."

Brownlow gave a single nod. "And taken out of our hands."

---

Mickey watched as Jackson tied and gagged Duncan. The large DC caught his eye once. Mickey hoped the look held some approval that he'd managed to keep his identity secret.

The little girl had stopped crying but had gone dead white. Mickey knew bugger all about kids, but that didn't look right even to him. He smiled and winked at her. She shrank back against her mother's side.

Then he remembered the one thing Jackson hadn't stolen during his rummage through Mickey's jacket pockets – the Mars bar he'd brought along on the obbo in case of emergencies. This certainly applied.

He made sure none of the gunmen were looking then pulled the chocolate out of his top pocket and held it out. There was a flash of life in the little girl's eyes and she looked to her mother for permission, pale face breaking into a small grin when she got it.

The child took the bar and concentrated on opening the wrapper. Her mother gave Mickey a look of eternal gratitude.

Jackson looked down at Boulton. "Think we should do him too?"

The other gunman came over and kicked the prone sergeant. Boulton moaned. "He ain't going anywhere."

"Reckon we should tie 'em all up."

"What wiv?" He waved his gun around the storeroom, with its boxes of crisp packets stacked around large locker freezers and its shelves laden with tins of beans. "Frozen sausages?" He smiled as the little girl shrank back and her mother whimpered as they watched his gun bob over their heads. "They'll keep quiet." He murmured, "won't you?"

Jackson chuckled at the fear, obviously enjoying the show. He came to stand over them as well, getting even closer with his gun. The little girl clutched her half eaten Mars bar to her, curling up tightly.

Mickey's muscles tightened, adrenaline flooding his veins but he forced himself to stay still. There was nothing more he'd like than to smash the bastard's head in, but he knew that was the surest way to get them all killed.

Jackson leant over the little girl, held his gun just inches from her head for a long moment and then, "BOO!"

The woman cried out in fear, clutching her children to her. The little girl screamed.

The builder showed less restraint. He jumped up, throwing himself at Jackson, fist connecting with the gunman's jaw. Jackson stumbled back and the builder followed.

Mickey bolted to his feet, starting forward. "NO!"

The gun went off.