Battle Sight Zero by Gerald Seymour

Author:Gerald Seymour [Seymour, Gerald]
Language: eng
Format: epub
ISBN: 9781473663527
Publisher: Hodder & Stoughton
Published: 2019-01-09T16:00:00+00:00

Light reflected off an opening window. A street-light caught the angle of the glass on a first floor and almost opposite, across the street, from the overturned scooter and the two intertwined bodies underneath it.

Pegs saw the moment the light hit.

She had been alongside police professionals all her working life. She was also, irrelevant to a woman of 47 years, a disappointment to her parents who had chucked money at her education – wasted. She had arrived in the secretive offices off Wyvill Road by chance: a ’flu virus rampant and desk staff dropping like sprayed flies. An impression had been made, doors had opened, an offer of extended work had become a posting, and within a year she had moved quietly, discreetly, into both Gough’s office and his life, had turned her back on Hackney, and a civilian job collating burglaries, knifings. The position was not abused and she had become fiercely loyal, would stay with him until he dropped, was axed, or retired. She had perception, wheelbarrow loads of it – what she called ‘simple bloody common sense’ – and was blessed with a good eye.

It was the third window onto which light from the street lamp had bounced.

All the time that the boy under the scooter had yelled increasingly dire threats, she had watched the movements of the officer they called Samson. There had been one in London, as she remembered – right place at the right time, or the opposite – who had notched up more kills than any other. It would be interesting to see his work at close hand, had no doubt in her mind that was how it would end. The man had eased down the street and had kept his rifle against his leg so that it would not be obvious, had tried shop doors and found them locked but then had come to a darkened alley between two buildings, barely wide enough for his shoulders, and had disappeared into it. She had seen the first window nudged open, then closed and presumed the alignment could be bettered, and then the second window. The third had opened, left ajar.

Because of her good vision – Gough would not have noticed it and she had not yet alerted him – Pegs had seen the protruding tip of a rifle barrel.

The wound on the leg, where the broken bone had split the skin, would have hurt as bad as Pegs could imagine. She had been through childbirth once, had not enjoyed it nor thought the end product worth the effort, and she had suffered a broken nose – straightened skilfully in Casualty – when mugged in east London, but had not known the sort of pain the kid suffered. He would be irrational, unpredictable, and several times she saw the pistol jerked so hard into the hostage’s neck that the head was tripped sideways . . . it would be a matter of judgement. She liked that, the thought of a decision being taken. Where

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