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wreck of the car.

A sudden fury built up inside him, a wild hatred, and Pieter raised his gun. Resting his wrist between the car’s doorframe and the open door itself, he aimed the Walter P5 at one of the figures on the roof of the building and fired two quick shots, the gun kicking hard. The shots struck the stonework, missing their target, but the silhouette of the gunman at least dropped from view. Encouraged by this the two other officers, one of them wounded, withdrew their own guns, and commenced firing. Their shots were slow and steady and precise, a testament to their training, and Pieter felt ridiculously proud of their coolness.

If nothing else their return fire might at least keep the gunmen’s heads down, but the situation was still dire. There were civilians badly in need of help, and probably a number of them were dead, and from the look of it the tram was now well and truly ablaze. But Pieter knew if he made an attempt to dash across to the bridge he would be hit. Pinned down like this they were trapped and unable to offer any help. In addition two of his men were dead, one more wounded.

He tried to think, but more prolonged gunfire from the tower made this impossible. The sound was beyond anything he’d experienced before, a roar of brutality, and he thought perhaps he was screaming in madness but wasn’t sure as the whole world was one huge cacophony of noise. Another loud explosion rocked the ground, and then non-stop automatic fire.

How many were holed up in there? At least three, but then he noticed more pandemonium on the far side of the canal towards the old docks, so he assumed there were more gunmen opening up on that side of the tower as well.

They had to do something quickly, otherwise they would have a massacre on their hands.

◆◆◆

In the distance Pieter could hear the sound of sirens approaching but decided they could not afford to wait. Somehow he had to hit their flank and also draw their fire away from the bridge. The only way to do that was to get down the incline, past the tower itself. He knew there was a small deck down there on the canal side so presumably there must be a way into the building from there. If he could get down there he might perhaps hit them from behind, pin them down until help arrived.

Pieter crouched low and crawled around the back of his car, and then down to the front passenger door. He was sheltered from the gunfire on this side, but just a few feet away was the burning wreck of the second patrol car, and the heat of the flames was nearly unbearable.

Yanking open the passenger door and keeping his head down, he reached across the seat and released the car’s handbrake. Withdrawing his body, Pieter waited until gravity started to take effect, and slowly his car gently started to roll forward down the gentle slope of the street. Closing the door again, he kept pace with the vehicle, now well sheltered from the gunfire spitting out from the tower.

The angle of his car glided it diagonally across the cobbled surface of the road, the front heading towards the low wall beside the gate and stairs leading down to the deck. It was only travelling slowly and it crunched into the stonework with only a slight bump, not enough to smash right through the wall itself. Thus embedded in the wall the car now gave him some perfect cover, and he leaned across the bonnet and looked up towards the gunmen on the roof, who were busy firing down towards the bridge in the opposite direction.

Then he noticed that indeed, there was a fourth man firing through a window on this side, his shots hitting targets on the far side of the canal. Pieter could clearly see him framed in the open window, as of yet unaware of Pieter down below.

Kneeling down and using the car’s bonnet as an armrest, he took careful aim, the gun’s sights centred on the gunman’s chest. He squeezed the trigger twice, there was the double kick, and then the figure was hurled backwards and fell from sight. A satisfied flush spread through Pieter’s chest, and his face was set in grim determination.

More long bursts of gunfire shattered the air once again, and he turned his attention to those up on the roof. The two men up there continued to pour heavy fire down towards the roadway and bridge, raking any target they could spot, but from where Pieter was he was gratified to see that most of the civilians had fled or found good cover. What’s more he saw the familiar sight of a police personnel van skidding to a halt near to the flank of the cathedral. The back doors flew open and out poured a phalanx of heavily armed assault police. Pieter knew these were equipped and trained to deal with this exact scenario, and they moved rapidly and fluidly with perfect precision, finding cover wherever possible, and immediately opened a heavy return fire towards the tower. Within seconds the building was shrouded in dust and smoke kicked up by their rounds, and the very earth shook under the power and violence of the gunfight.

Another squad of police arrived. With the gunmen inside the building pinned down, this second team dashed forward to the main entrance, and using a battering ram they soon gained entry, lobbing in several flash-bangs to clear the entranceway before they piled in. The gun battle moved inside, the explosive sounds now echoing and reverberating from within the enclosed space.

Pieter felt his heart rate start to slow a little, and he came to his feet somewhat unsteadily. But just as he thought things were getting a little more under control the sound of a loud engine caught his attention and he glanced down towards the deck below

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