Blackout - By Tom Barber Page 0,94

up if anyone approached the house.

Having just checked in the long kitchen and one of the back doors, he walked down the main corridor and moved into the drawing room. He found his wife standing there quietly, looking out of one of the windows, her arms folded. He saw that rain had just started to fall gently outside, drops of water tapping against the glass, sounding like someone drumming their fingers on a table-top, each droplet clinging to the window then sliding down the pane. Cobb nodded wryly. It looked like their run of good weather was over. This was April in the UK, after all.

Making sure the safety catch on the Glock was on, he tucked it into the back of his waistband, and came up behind her, sliding his arms around her waist protectively, looking out into the darkening garden, still well lit by the moonlight despite the shower of rain. He glanced at a clock across the room.

It had just gone 9:31 pm.

'All done,' he said.

She nodded gently. The two of them stood still, in silence, watching the drops starting to rap against the pane.

'Everything OK?' he asked her.

She sighed, and he knew before she answered that everything wasn't.

'They're out there, somewhere, right now, looking for you,' she said, quietly.

'My men will find them,' he said. ‘They don’t know about this place.’

There was a pause. Behind her, he looked out across the lawns and into the trees beyond.

'When will it be over?' she asked.

'When we arrest them. We already have one of them at the station.'

'These men won't just roll over and let you put the cuffs on, Tim. You said one of them killed himself before you could take him. And another committed suicide after he failed.'

'Then they'll all die. That's how it will end.'

'But who’s going to stop them?'

A long silence followed. She was right. They had never dealt with men like this before, highly- trained killers. His men were taught to arrest and question, to preserve life whenever possible, not shoot to kill and ask questions later. Whatever happened, this was going to end with more people being killed.

Possibly him.

His wife went to speak again, but she stopped.

'What?' Cobb asked her, feeling her tense up in his arms. 'What is it?'

She turned to him and frowned.

'Listen.'

Cobb listened. All he heard was the pattering of the rain against the window.

But then, he heard a faint sound.

It was a thumping, or a whining, a mix of both, faint amongst the rainfall but definitely audible.

He listened closer, as the noise grew stronger.

It sounded like a helicopter.

Cobb looked at his wife, her eyes wide with fear.

'Get the boys,' he said.

A hundred yards above them, Fox flew the helicopter over the main Hall then started to bring it down on the south-side of the house, the opposite side from where the Panthers would surely arrive on the only road in and out of the estate. Beside him, Porter, Chalky and Archer had all finished adjusting their throat mics and tac gear on the journey, reloading their weapons, and the three officers waited anxiously for the helicopter to land, eager to get on the ground. The house was still, and there was no sign of any vehicles. It looked as if they had beaten the Panthers here. During the flight, Chalky had gone to work on the wound on Archer’s head with a first-aid kit that the helicopter carried. Given the unpredictable movement of the vessel and Chalky not being known for his medical skills, Archer now sported a bandage wrapped three times around his head in a haphazard fashion, the bleeding stopped by gauze but the wound still throbbing and painful.

The helicopter touched down on the wet grass and before Fox could switch off the engine his three team-mates were already out of the doors, ducking low and running across the green lawn towards the house through the rain. Fox switched off the equipment and grabbing his MP5 from the foot-well, he secured the door behind him and sprinted across the soaked grass after the others, the rotors of the helicopter slowly coming to a halt behind him.

At a window, Cobb had the Glock in his hands, but had relaxed as he saw the black Unit helicopter touch down, and moved down the corridor to let his men in. He unlocked the door, pulling it open, and the men ran inside, fully armed, Fox catching up and joining them. The rain was starting to fall harder now and the