Crimson Dragon

Stephen Collier

Description

Murder. Abduction. Two cities. Two cops... Eighteen months ago. Chinatown, London. A police raid goes disastrously wrong. People die. Today, the police officers involved in the swoop are dead. Serial, Purple One Five, are all dead, except the serial commander - Sergeant Brian Gibson.InHongKong,awoman'sbodyisdiscoveredinaseedydowntownWan Chaihotel.Detective InspectorofPoliceMandyLeemustdeterminewhosheisandwhokilledher.Leeidentifiesthe womanasAndreaVentress-Gibson. Lee'sinvestigationleadshertothe UK,butAndrea'snew husband, SergeantBrianGibson,ismissing - whereabouts unknown. Meanwhile, in the UK, Road Policing OfficerPCEdRobertsdiscovers acyber-attackonapolicedatabase.Buthe'sorderedto chaperoneD.I.Lee.Asateamtheysoonfindthattheirenquiriesarelinked.Against orders, Roberts follows Lee to London's Chinatown, where they come into direct conflict with a HongKong underworld organisation - Crimson Dragon. And confirms Lee's suspicions her estranged step-brother isinvolved.CanLeeandRobertsdiscoverGibson'swhereaboutsandstop CrimsonDragon?

Sujets

• Political
• Politics
• Thriller
• Hong Kong

Informations

• Publié par: Troubador Publishing Ltd
• Date de parution: 19 mars 2022
• Nombre de lectures: 0
• EAN13: 9781800467071
• Langue: English
• Poids de l'ouvrage: 2 Mo

Extrait

Copyright © 2022 Stephen Collier

The moral right of the author has been asserted.


Apart from any fair dealing for the purposes of research or private study, or criticism or review, as permitted under the Copyright, Designs and Patents Act 1988, this publication may only be reproduced, stored or transmitted, in any form or by any means, with the prior permission in writing of the publishers, or in the case of reprographic reproduction in accordance with the terms of licences issued by the Copyright Licensing Agency. Enquiries concerning reproduction outside those terms should be sent to the publishers.

This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, businesses, places, events and incidents are either the products of the author’s imagination or used in a fictitious manner. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, or actual events is purely coincidental.


Matador
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Leicestershire. LE16 7UL
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ISBN 978 1800467 071

British Library Cataloguing in Publication Data.
A catalogue record for this book is available from the British Library.

Cover image by Kevin Chu Photography (Hong Kong) – Instagram.com/kevc_photo

Matador is an imprint of Troubador Publishing Ltd





For Mum and Dad





ALSO BY STEPHEN COLLIER

Jake Jordan Series
Blind Murder
Driving Dead


Non-Fiction
Field Impairment Testing and Drug Influence Recognition
Aide Memoir for Police Officers.


Contents
i
ii
iii

PART ONE
1
2
3
4
5
6
7
8
9
10
11
12
13
14
15
16

PART TWO
17
18
19
20
21
22
23
24
25
26
27
28
29
30
31
32
33
34
35
36
37
38
39
40
41
42
43
44

PART THREE
45
46
47
48
49
50
51
52
54
55
56
57
58
59
60
61
62
63
64

PART FOUR
65
66
67
68


i
0600: Tuesday 7th February 2018
Twenty minutes after being briefed by Superintendent Joe Edwards, two elite sub-units of the Met’s SCO19 Specialist Firearms Command, Purple One Five and One Eight, are ready and waiting for the ‘go’ signal from Edwards.
Their objective was to enter the premises of Crimson Dragon, a closed and shuttered restaurant in Gerrard Street, part of London’s Chinatown, and secure the arrest of several members of a gang and their leader running illegal covert operations.
The premises is a three-storey building with boarded windows and sported scaffolding under the belief that it was under renovations. Locals, however, knew that was not the case but never questioned the occupants. For on their head be it, if they ever did.
In the dark and cold morning air, Sergeant Brian Gibson could see the translucent, white exhaled glow of his serial’s heavy and expectant breathing as his team crept towards the red side door of the restaurant. The rustle of their kit the only sound that interrupted the background noise of a city waking up for a new day. Gerrard Street was at peace, and those few who were about seemed to take little notice of the assembled police officers, as if such a thing wasn’t unusual.
Gibson ordered up the big red door key and seconds later was given the signal to go. PC Rachel Harmony gave the door a good hammering until it crashed to the floor and the unit piled in. At the same time, Purple One Eight entered via the rear of the premises to shouts of ‘ARMED POLICE’ and ‘STAY WHERE YOU ARE’, echoing around the old restaurant.
They’d all been advised in the briefing that the occupants would do anything to evade capture, including the use of lethal force. Intelligence on the property and its occupants identified that firearms were available to the occupants and that the units should proceed with caution. For a group of ‘gung-ho’ police officers, this was like the proverbial red rag to a bull, so they had prepared themselves, having fitted ceramic plates into their bulletproof vests and making sure their kit was in tip-top condition. The buzz around the briefing room was typical of a group of alpha males (and females) trying to get one over on each other. Despite this amiable banter, they were a close-knit team, each of whom had the back of each other, whatever happened.
As they entered the first room, a single shot rang out. An unseen gunman fired at the first officer who entered. PC Andy Fullingdale was hit in the chest and fell back towards the wall. Winded by the shot, he crawled to a place of relative safety. His Kevlar vest and plate having done what it was supposed to do by keeping him alive. Despite him knowing that he would have one hell of a bruise on his chest the following day.
The rest of the serial saw that he was not injured and went further into the room. Gibson dropped down beside Fullingdale.
‘You OK, mate?’ he said.
Fullingdale responded with an OK signal, too winded to speak. Among the number of shots being fired towards them, Gibson said, ‘Come on then,’ as he got up and fired a double-tap towards one of the occupants, who seemed to be firing without any consequence of who he may hit.
Fullingdale, having regained his breath, moved onto his knees and fired two shots into the chest of the man who was firing indiscriminately. They heard him fall heavily onto the floor. He moved out and joined the rest of his serial, engaged in more of a gunfight from the ‘OK Corral’.
There were large tables stacked with counterfeit cigarettes in the main restaurant area. These were now scattered over the floor by the firefight. The gunfire was systematically destroying the cache, filling the room with tobacco and white dust, which could have been any harmful substance. Both teams had the foresight to don their respirators to prevent them from being overwhelmed by the tobacco-rich mist that now hung in the air like an old London smog and just as thick.
As Gibson advanced, he saw the primary target for the raid in his peripheral vision. Annabel Chi was crawling towards the stairs. There was a bloodstain on her back, but she appeared unarmed.
Gibson indicated to his team that Chi was trying to escape. As she started to climb the stairs, there was a final burst of gunfire. With small-arms fire filling the air, it was only natural that some, in fact, most, simply ricocheted from the walls and some metal window blinds. Gibson saw Chi fall on the stairs, where she remained. Motionless.
Less than five minutes had elapsed before the two teams had secured the property. Ambulances had been called to the scene to take away the casualties. The location was secured for Scenes of Crime, the pathologist, Major Incident detectives and the inevitable investigation by the Independent Office for Police Conduct.
When Superintendent Edwards arrived at the scene, the only thing he said to Gibson was, ‘Well, this is a right fuck up, Sergeant. We wanted them alive!’


ii
1625: Sunday 23 rd December 2018
‘Jesus, Rach, first day back on the job, and we get this.’
Andy Fullingdale deftly drifted his patrol car around the corner of a North London housing estate that had seen better days, in pursuit of a stolen SUV. It had been giving them the slip all morning, and now they were close to chasing it down. Other units were homing in on their position to throw out a ‘Stinger’, or somebody doing the business with a PIT manoeuvre on the rear quarter to spin it out, if they could get close enough to it. But it had been elusive until now, and Harmony and Fullingdale were hell-bent on making sure the driver and passengers saw justice – in any form.
‘NPAS X-ray X-ray Six-Five, do you copy?’ Rachel Harmony needed to know where the air support unit was. They couldn’t keep up these speeds forever. It was pretty hairy now as she held on to the ‘FM’ handle above the passenger door as they rounded another bend, sirens blazing and blue lights bouncing off passing windows and vehicles, like a high-speed Christmas tree.
‘Affirmative,’ came the response. ‘Go ahead.’
‘Six-Five, are you on plot yet?’
Fullingdale threw another sharp right, making the tyres of the patrol car scream in protest as it rounded the next corner. The SUV was heading out of the estate.
‘If he carries on like this, somebody is going to get hurt,’ Fullingdale shouted over the scream of the sirens and the piston-bouncing grating of the engine.
‘Why do you think I’m holding on to the “fuck me” handle, Andy? If you don’t calm the red mist, it’s us that’ll end up hurt, and I really, really don’t need another suspension.’
Fullingdale glanced briefly at Harmony and smiled.
‘You’re enjoying this, you big kid,’ Harmony said.
‘If he keeps going, there’s a bit of dual carriageway ahead where we can co-ordinate our other units, and we’ll be able to stop him.’

NPAS Six-Five was by now hovering low above the pursuit, seeing everything from a bird’s-eye view. ‘We are over you now,’ the observer said. ‘I see other units making towards, and he’s taking a left, left, left, into a grass field. Suggest you stand down. We’re on him. Do not enter the field.’
The observer viewing from the cockpit of Six-Five watched as the stolen SUV crashed through the wooden gate, sending shards of wood everywhere. Fullingdale and Harmony didn’t respond to the stop request by the observer and ploughed on into the field, bouncing over the broken gate.
‘Purple One Five Alpha, stand down …’ but al