10:38 AM
I thought about the events of the morning, it had been a normal day. I had got up at 6:30 and gone straight to work. I hadn't even said goodbye to my wife and kid. That's how natural this job is.
Whe I had arrived at the station I began constructing Farrel's file. He was indeed part of the Samson gang.
At about 10:10 we were preparing for Farrels transfer, in walked Reynolds and shot him dead. He had no motive other than the fact that the Samsons and his thugs were arch enemies. He fled in his car.
And here we were, about to enter the warehouse district. I started the siren and pulled out. He noticed straight away and quickly doubled his speed. I overtook a car and sped after him, I couldn't afford to lose him.
He took a left turn into a deserted one-way street.
I reached for my radio.
"Dangerous driving and suspect of murder..."
"Back-up requested...to Riverside estate, Southwark"
"It's Alex Reynolds..."
The reply came.
"We have a patrol car in the area, keep on the tail"
I took a wild right turn and screeched after him. He took a wild shot out of his window with his handgun. The bullet cracked my windscreen. I sped on, gaining on him. He appeared to be phoning someone, the odds were even, we both called for backup. It wasn't good news.
I couldn't pull along side him, as he had greater firepower.
My radio buzzed to life.
"Patrol car 66 is taking damage!" called the operator.
"What?" I asked.
"Gunmen on foot with assault rifles, blocking the road" called the operator.
Reynold's call had been answered, this was his gangs turf.
Suddenly, from a warehouse door, out stepped several men, armed with AK47's.
They fired at my car.
Reynolds sped past them. I ducked to avoid the gunfire yet desperately trying not to lose control of the car. From a warehouse in the distance a large truck drove out of the doorway, blocking my path to Reynolds. In the driving seat were more thugs.
I slammed on my brakes and was greeted by a hail of bullets as the gunmen sprayed my car. Reynolds had escaped. The gunmen went back into the armoured warehouse shouting abuse at me.
"Chris Andrews... please report!" called the radio.
"Yes, what is it?" I groaned.
"Patrol car 66 is on fire, the men have been massacred..."
Reynolds had won, his trap had worked. I turned off the radio and began the lenghty drive back to the station...
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