Chapter 9

"So what do you think, Face? Vernon hid the gold and took the secret of where to his grave?"

There was no answer from Face. Hannibal sighed and snapped his fingers in front of the Lieutenant's eyes. Face jumped a little, shaken out of his rapt contemplation of the gold.

"What?"

"I said, do you think Vernon Tate buried the gold?"

"Oh yeah, most likely. Vernon must have been the bagman; he buried the stuff while they waited for the heat to cool off. Then the pair of them got locked up for something else. Vernon never told Harry the exact location before he got himself killed…" His voice trailed off as his gaze turned back to the box of gold bars. The reflected light sparkled in his eyes, picked out golden highlights in his hair. In a sighing, wondering tone he said, "Is there any more beautiful phrase in the English language than 'gold bullion'? There's gotta be at least two million dollars here at today's prices."

"So we call the police now?" Chris asked.

"No, I'm not done yet." Hannibal said. "We need to tie Harry and the gold together, give the cops the full package. Just depriving Tate of his retirement fund isn't enough."

"You're thinking of that security guard." Murdock said quietly, his voice serious, remembering the frown that had appeared on Hannibal's face when he heard about the man who had died in the robbery

"If Tate killed him then he needs to pay for that." Hannibal said. The others nodded in agreement.

"Okay." Hannibal said, clapping his hands. "Let's get back to work." They all started to move. All except one person. Face was once again entranced by the gold and oblivious to his surroundings. BA, though a man who bowed to no one in his appreciation of the yellow stuff, growled in annoyance, grabbed Face's jacket and dragged him away. Hannibal followed grinning.

Several tiring, tea-fuelled hours later they were ready. They waited, rehearsing the plan, eating, napping, checking the shotguns, and drinking more tea. Then about nine thirty in the evening, as the light was starting to fade Hannibal's walkie-talkie crackled and Murdock's voice came through.

"Here we go, Colonel, enemy approaching. Four cars."

"Right. Get inside, Captain. Everyone take positions, move out."

When Harry Tate and nine armed men walked into the warehouse they were faced with a wall of telephone boxes.

"What the hell's this?" Tate demanded.

"Dunno, Harry. They've been moving the stuff about." Rat-faced Jimmy said. "Looks like a way through there." He was looking at a gap in the wall. "And that side." There was another gap to their left. Tate narrowed his eyes.

"Stay where you are." He ordered sharply. Then he raised his voice. "Smith? I know you're in here, Smith."

"Did I say I wasn't?" Hannibal's voice came back at them. The guns came up, but there was no target. Hannibal kept out of sight.

"You found it, Smith?" Tate asked.

"We found it." Hannibal confirmed.

"Listen, this can end right now, no-one has to get hurt. You hand it over and we leave." His voice went cold. "And if the dip gives me back my wallet I'll even let him keep his fingers."

"No deal, Harry. You want the gold you'll have to come in and get it. And please don't call my lieutenant a dip, you'll hurt his feelings."

"I'll hurt a lot more than that if you make me come in there after you."

"Ooh, real scary, Harry." Hannibal paused for a moment. Tate made no move, he was looking around, eyes narrow, assessing. Hannibal's voice came again. "I've just been advised by my client that you should… what was it, Chris? Ah, thanks, 'come and have a go if you think you're hard enough.'"

Tate and his men could hear sniggering from behind the wall.

"Come on boss, let's get the bastards. There's only the four of 'em." Jimmy said.

"You know I was just thinking." Hannibal called out again. "This whole thing is Vernon's fault. If your brother had actually trusted you and told you where he hid the stuff we wouldn’t be going through all this now, would we?"

Tate's face twisted with fury. "Right, Smith, I gave you your chance." He signalled his men, split them up, four of them with him to the right and the others led by Jimmy to the left. They moved towards the gaps in the wall of phone boxes.

High above them lying on boards secured to a lighting gantry Chris and Jenny had a view of the whole warehouse floor and the maze like "fort" they had helped the team to build, out of crates and phone boxes and stacked pillar-boxes. Lying on top of the walls were road name signs, identifying each of the "streets" they had created.

"Okay." Chris said quietly into the walkie-talkie. "You've got five on Bond Street, including Tate, and five on The Strand."

"Acknowledged. Murdock, you in position?" Hannibal's voice came over the radio.

"As per orders."

"Block off Bond Street when they turn into Fleet Street."

"Roger."

Murdock, crouched in a telephone box, invisible in the dim light watched the group of men go by. He gave them long enough then pushed open the heavy door slowly. They were just turning the corner and didn't see him. He moved silently and from between two pillar boxes he slid out a 'gate' of lashed together parking metres. With an effort he heaved it up long enough to kick away the wheeled board it was on and dropped it. It wasn't a high barrier, but would slow them down nicely if they tried to come back this way.

Over his radio he could hear Hannibal ordering Face to do the same thing on 'The Strand'. Murdock grinned. This was the most fun game of Monopoly he'd ever played. He sneaked towards the corner to follow Tate's group.

Face smirked at the backs of the group Jimmy was leading as they moved slowly down 'Abbey Road'. Rat in a maze, Jimmy. Appropriate for you, he thought. He could see the long barrel of the Remington in Jimmy's hands, was glad the thug hadn't got around to sawing it down yet.

"I don't like this," Face heard Jimmy saying. "I don't like it, where are they? And where the 'ell are we going?"

You're going right where Hannibal wants you, Face thought. He heard Chris's voice coming quietly in his walkie-talkie earpiece.

"Tate's group are on The Mall, approaching the square. The others are on Piccadilly. Once they turn onto Oxford Street if you block them they've no choice but to go into the square."

"Face, BA, that's yours."

Face and BA met up as Jimmy's group turned the corner into 'Oxford Street.' They let them get a few yards along it, and then they nodded at each other. Face moved to one side of the "road" and put his foot on a switch. The phone boxes on either side of the corridor began to topple inwards as the rigged floor underneath them partially collapsed.

Jimmy's team ran forward to avoid the falling boxes, swearing. They started firing back over them down the now blocked 'Oxford Street'. Face and BA returned fire, firing alternately as the other man reloaded. Jimmy's men retreated, looking for cover. Somewhere in the distance they could hear Tate's voice demanding to know what was going on.

"Hannibal, Tate's moving into the square now, he should be able to see the other group." Chris reported.

He was right. Tate roared like a bull. "Jimmy!" Jimmy and his group looked behind to see their boss. They retreated further from the men firing on them.

"They're all in the square!" Jenny's voice sounded excitedly in Hannibal's ear. "We're dropping the gates!" She pushed a button and with a rushing sound "gates" made of welded and lashed together road signs and parking metres dropped fast on ropes from near the roof. Dropping into place they trapped Tate and his men into a roughly square space, made up of banks of crates on three sides and on the fourth, the bus. On the side of the bus was hung a street name sign. 'Trafalgar Square'.

The men ran to the gates and tried to pull them aside, but as they did a shotgun blast over their heads made them all flinch and reach for their guns. They turned to see Hannibal standing on the open top deck of the bus, the Winchester aimed and ready to fire the second barrel.

"Who wants to be first?" Hannibal asked. Movement from behind made them turn to see Murdock standing on top of one wall of crates. In a moment Face and BA appeared on the others. All of them were pointing shotguns at Tate's men. None of the men in the square raised their guns.

"All right, gentlemen," Hannibal said. "You'll notice that in the middle of the square is a pillar-box. One at a time and nice and slowly I want you to drop your guns into the mail slot. Along with any other little toys you've brought along, knives and the like. You first, Harry." Tate gave him a filthy look and didn't move. Hannibal, using the same tone he'd used on the guard dog snapped out, "What are you waiting for? A bus? Move it!" Tate reacted instinctively to the command in Hannibal's voice. He moved to the pillar-box and "posted" his handgun. One by one the other men followed.

"Jimmy." Face called. "You unload that shotgun and mail the cartridges. Then just leave the gun on the ground." Jimmy did as he was ordered, dropping the two cartridges into the mail slot. He put the Remington down beside the pillar-box. "Carefully!" Face cautioned. "I'd better not find so much as a scratch on it." Jimmy looked as cowed as Face had pretended to be the night before.

"BA, Murdock." Hannibal said. They came down from the crates into the square and began to bind the men's hands behind their backs and search them for any concealed weapons.

Once they were all bound Hannibal relaxed a little. He leaned against the safety rail of the bus and reloaded the spent barrel of his shotgun.

"You know, Harry, for a minute I thought you weren't going for it. When you first came in I could see you thinking 'if he thinks I'm going in there he's nuts'. But one little crack about how your brother didn't trust you and all your brains just fly out of the window."

"You leave Vern out of it!" Tate snarled.

"See, that’s what I'm talking about, emotional reaction. You gotta develop a thicker skin, pal." He took out a cigar and lit it. "But I'm glad to see it, really. It confirms a theory I've been developing."

Face rolled his eyes with a long-suffering expression and muttered, "Here he goes." He sat down, his legs dangling over the edge of the crates, still covering the men BA and Murdock were pushing to sit on the ground now,

"You see I've been to many places in the world." Hannibal went on. And in lots of those places there've been shortages. Shortages of all kinds of things, beer, ammunition, women, even food or water. But you know what I've found? No place anywhere in the world ever has any shortage of idiots." He grinned. "And you lot just proved to me that England is no exception." Then, speaking into his radio, he added, "No offence, Chris, Jen."

"None taken." Chris's voice came back. "I've noticed the same thing myself. Incidentally Jen just asked if you were planning to leave us up here all night? Because we're starting to get vertigo."

"Hang tight we'll get you down in a…"

He stopped as they all heard the sound of a car outside, speeding away.

"Face, check that!"

Face ran along the tops of crates and then over the wall of phone boxes, down to the ground. He ran outside. A moment later he returned.

"Hannibal, there's only three cars outside. Murdock said they arrived in four. Someone got away."

Chapter 10