Silent Night - By Tom Barber Page 0,43

anything? Archer thought, pulling his Sig and flicking off the safety.

Pushing back the door, he moved into the apartment followed closely by the other two. Looking through the sights of the pistol, he stepped into a kitchen. It was immaculately tidy, the pots and pans put away, no dishes in the sink, the white-tiled floor clean and shiny. There was one door to the left and one to the right. Once again, the door to the left was open. The room was dark and looked as if nobody was inside. Nevertheless, Josh turned and moved to check it out. Never assume anything. They didn't want to turn their backs and discover it was occupied after all.

There was noise coming from the room to the right. It sounded like a television and the quiet murmur of conversation. Archer and Shepherd moved towards it, both pulling open their jackets to reveal their NYPD vests. No need for stealth anymore. They were already inside the apartment.

Standing side by side, Shepherd watched as Archer grasped the handle and twisted it.

As soon as the door fell back, the two men saw Gunnar. And they instantly realised why he was so relaxed about his security.

The man was absolutely enormous. He was over six foot five and built like a brick shithouse, comfortably over two-fifty and closer to three hundred pounds. Shirtless, he was facing the far wall when the two men entered. Archer saw a thick black Swastika tattoo covering the majority of his back. He also had two words printed in bold lettering above the symbol across his barn-door wide shoulders.

DON’T TREAD.

Gunnar turned, calmly and slowly, having heard the two men enter. He was built like a strong man or super-heavyweight bodybuilder, more tattoos spread over the front of his muscular torso. His head was shaved and his jaw looked as if it had been chiselled out of rock.

He looked down at the two intruders, expressionless.

‘NYPD. Show me some hands,’ Shepherd ordered, his pistol on the man.

Gunnar wasn’t the only person in the room. A dark-haired woman was sitting on a couch to his right. Dressed in a white vest and panties, her hair dirty and unwashed, she turned and saw the two men, her make-up smudged around her eyes.

‘Pigs!’ she screamed, flying up from the couch and rushing towards them.

Josh suddenly stepped into the bedroom, having cleared the room next door. He torso-wrapped the woman, using her momentum to take her forwards and pin her against the wall. She was thrashing and swearing, trying to heel kick him as he kept her trapped to the wall with one arm, holstering his side-arm and pulling some cuffs from his hip with the other.

Watching this, Gunnar smiled, his hands up in the air.

‘Baby, relax. It’s OK.’

‘Get your hands off me, pig!’ she screamed again.

Archer and Shepherd kept their pistols on Gunnar, who dwarfed both of them. There was a pause, a momentary standoff even though only one side was armed.

This was going to go one of two ways and that depended on what Gunnar did next.

‘What can I do for you gentlemen?’ he asked.

Archer couldn’t conceal his surprise. Gunnar’s voice was incongruously cultured for a man of his size and appearance. He sounded like a Harvard grad.

‘We need you to come with us,’ Shepherd said.

‘Concerning?’

‘You’ll find out.’

Gunnar nodded. ‘Very well.’ Frowning, he looked past them at the woman, who was still thrashing and hollering as Josh tried to drag her hands into the cuffs. ‘Baby, please. Relax.’ Then he turned to Shepherd, offering his hands.

‘Front or back?’

‘Back,’ Shepherd said.

Gunnar nodded, turning and presenting his wrists for the cuffs. Archer stepped forward carefully, holstering his weapon and making sure that Shepherd had his Sig on the man the entire time. He pulled a set of steel cuffs from a pouch above the holster for the Sig. He clicked one side onto Gunnar’s left wrist, which was as thick as the business end of a baseball bat. Up close, Gunnar was even more intimidating, towering over Archer. His back was like a damn mountain.

Archer cuffed his other hand and clicked it secure.

'Keys?’ Shepherd asked.

'On the table by the door'.

Josh was already hauling the girl outside as she shouted and kicked up a fuss. Gunnar was the polar opposite, calm and co-operative. As Shepherd grabbed a white vest from the bed and a pair of sweats for the girl, tucking them under his arm so they could finish dressing at the station, the huge neo-Nazi turned and looked down