The Devil Among Us, Ramsay Sinclair [black books to read .txt] 📗

own accord. I was speechless, due to avoiding a collision with another vehicle by a mere inch, but McCall simply shrugged. “I told you earlier. Two rights and a left.”

The Volvo rolled up to the street where everything was taking place, the entire road backlogged with police cars, armed response and officers there on foot. The sheer amount of blue lights were almost blinding, and we parked horizontally. A few people walking past had stopped to be nosy, and the media were already clamouring to take photographs, even in the middle of a tense situation. There was a time and a place. Some sparse PCs tried to hold them back, even though they were desperate to get a snapshot for their twisted articles.

We couldn’t see anything from our angle, our vision blocked off by a crowd officer’s backs and their vehicles. McCall got out first, slamming her door in anticipation. I followed, determined to push past the crowds of locals and police alike to get involved.

As we stepped together towards the scene, the sight we were met with was certainly unexpected. There were two opposing sides; the police and the criminal. They pointed at each other like two sides at war. This was, in its own way, a war. The turquoise van looked more beaten up than originally suspected, and the criminals had lined up on one side of it. Well, criminal. There were three of them to begin with, but two of them were already lying face down on the concrete, in a pool of their own scarlet blood.

Armed response seemed to hold their fire for the last one left.

“This is an absolute mess,” I claimed angrily, shocked to see two already dead in our usually clean streets.

“Stay back. It’s a hostile situation,” a police constable warned, and he attempted to restrict our entrance onto the scene to join the rest of our team. We were grouped on the outskirts, struggling to even get past the mobbed journalists.

“CID,” McCall flashed our badges, then started to walk on cautiously.

“Miss, I cannae let you in.” The officer restrained any further movement from her and held a palm to McCall’s chest. He pushed us away firmly each time we tried to move.

“It’s ma’am to you,” she spat furiously. “These are our guys.” McCall peered through and spotted our team cowered behind some vehicles for cover from immediate fire. A line of armed response was spread out in front of them, acting as their cover.

DCI Reid glanced over, frowning at our struggle to get in. He used a hand motion to wave us through, mouthing something we couldn’t entirely understand.

“See?” McCall forced the PC to face DCI Reid and his impatient gestures.

“Fine,” the police constable caved in, moving slightly to the right to finally let us go. Talk about making a fuss. “But tread carefully. Follow behind the vehicles in case this loony shoots too.” He pointed to the cars he was talking about.

“Cheers,” I said, itching to get in there. Sometimes danger could be exciting. That was, after all, the reason we choose our careers. McCall went first, ducking as she walked. I followed suit, the stooping action wreaking havoc on my knees.

The team greeted us with hushed voices, and every so often, they would straighten up to watch the interaction unfurl. Sandwiching ourselves between DC Taylor and the Guv, we could see a bit clearer now.

DCI Reid sported an entirely different demeanour. He stood up confidently, both elbows on the police car roof, watching the interaction with intrepid interest. The Guv was bold as brass, and a gun wouldn’t scare him or break those nerves of steel.

I trusted DCI Reid’s actions. If he wasn’t afraid to potentially put himself in harm's way, then I as a DI shouldn’t be either.

“It’s quite alright, Cooper. There are too many armed response officers around for him to do us any harm. He’ll end up like the others if he tried,” DCI Reid murmured, barely taking his eyes off the scene. I assumed he referenced the remaining gun-wielding criminal. “Plus, it’s not us he’s aiming for. The others are just being cautious.”

That explanation gave me enough confidence to stand up further and watch too. McCall was just as curious. We were squashed so close together that we rubbed arms whenever one of us shuffled. The car roof was hot to the touch.

“What happened here, sir?” McCall asked, shamelessly intrigued. Granted, I was too.

“You two sure missed out on half of the action.” He dryly nodded towards the criminals lying faced down. “Those two guys came running from the back of their van, shooting anything they could. Surprised us all. It’s like they wanted to go out fighting. Glory maybe.” DCI Reid’s growing moustache wobbled when he spoke. “Armed response tried to give them a chance to put their weapons down, but they refused to listen.”

McCall listened intently, shrewdly surveying the scene. “The number of officers here probably frightened them.”

“Most likely.” DCI Reid gave a curt nod. “Their aim wasn’t very good, they hit more cars than people.” He pointedly showed the few bullet marks on the paintwork of a police van. All of that violence for a bit of cash in hand.

“What a waste of their lives. Just for some poxy drugs,” I scoffed, bewildered.

“It’s a lifestyle, Cooper,” DCI Reid reminded me. “We thought that it was over, but then this last guy came running from the front. Must’ve been driving the van.”

I noticed the last criminal was also holding a gun, except he had a clear shot for a PC standing directly in front of him.

“It’s a standoff,” I said as the realisation hit us. “Who’s the PC?”

“Ryan Shaw,” DCI Reid shared grimly, wiping the moisture from his brow. “Bit of a rookie. He ran in when the first two were down, thinking it was all over. He was caught off guard by the final guy, and now he’s a negotiating point. An eye for an eye sort of thing. One of us has