“Where’s this fucker taking us now?” Jack wondered aloud. It had been exciting at first, but now the chase was starting to wear very thin.
“I dunno,” Dillon said, tensely, “but if he carries on like this, he’s going to kill someone.”
“As long as it’s only himself and the other occupants of his car, I really don’t give a toss,” Tyler said, although he did. He badly wanted to see Winston stand trial.
They were now heading northbound along the North Circular Road with the Rover still weaving dangerously in and out of lanes, trying to throw his pursuers off. There seemed to be no planning or thought behind the route he was taking, and the longer this went on, the more erratic his driving was becoming.
At some point, the Chief Inspector at IR was going to have to make a decision about bringing the pursuit to a forced stop, and Jack wondered if trained TPAC units were already converging on the Rover to do just that.
Tactical pursuit and containment – or TPAC – is the term used by UK law enforcement to describe the range of special measures available for managing and terminating vehicle pursuits.
One of the most commonly used tactics was the deployment of a hollow spiked tyre deflation device – a HoSTyDS – such as a Stinger. Jack suspected they had already tried – and failed – to execute this tactic back in Barking Road, when Rodent had frustrated them by turning into Prince Regent Lane.
Boxing would be the next option. That involved several police vehicles positioning themselves around the vehicle being pursued, bringing it to a slow and gradual stop by boxing it in on all sides. From what he’d seen of the boy’s driving so far, Jack didn’t think Rodent was going to allow the TPAC officers to get away with this, and even if he was, Winston would be taking pot-shots at them out of the window from the moment they came into range.
Tactical contact was likely to be more successful. This involved a TPAC police car carefully hitting the back end of the target vehicle with the intention of causing it to spin around and lose traction. As such, it was very similar to another slightly more aggressive tactic called the PIT manoeuvre.
The PIT manoeuvre involved the pursuit vehicle pulling alongside the bandit in such a way that its bonnet aligned with the fleeing vehicle’s trunk. The pursuer then initiated contact with the target's side by steering sharply into it. If timed correctly, this caused the bandit’s rear tyres to lose traction and sent the car into a 180 degree spin.
Whatever option they went for, they needed to do something – and fast.
Jack let out a frustrated grunt. “I wish we’d thought to bring the Ford Escort. We could have listened to the chase commentary on the Main-Set if we had.” Apart from the Omega, it was the only car on the team that had one.
“If I’d known you planned to drag us off to Star Lane and get us involved in a high-speed chase, I would have bloody well booked it out,” Dillon said acerbically. “But not being a mind reader, I didn’t, so stop moaning, sit back, and enjoy the ride.”
“The first three exits we’re going to come to will be the ones for Barking, Redbridge, and then the M11,” Kelly called from the back, putting her local knowledge to good use.
“It doesn’t look like he’s going to take the first one,” Jack said.
No sooner had the words left his mouth when the bandit suddenly veered from lane three, where it had been sitting, across the other two lanes and onto the slip road that led down to the large roundabout at the start of Barking Road.
“What were you saying?” Dillon smirked, risking a quick sideways glance.
There were two lanes on the slip road, and each had a stationary vehicle waiting in it for the traffic lights to change to green.
At the end of the slip road, instead of joining the roundabout and going clockwise around it, Rodent initiated another handbrake turn and drove anti-clockwise, trying to force a path through oncoming traffic.
Unfortunately for him, the lumbering goods vehicle coming the other way was bigger, heavier and driven by someone who had no intention of giving way. With a screech of brakes, the Rover swerved to the left, narrowly avoiding a head-on collision that would have, in all probability, proved fatal.
With a bone-jarring crash, it careered straight into a thick concrete pylon, hitting it so hard that the bonnet crumpled inwards like a concertina. There was a horrendous bang, followed by thick clouds of acrid smoke. Nobody inside the car moved.
Firearms officers spilled out of the three Trojan vehicles, instantly surrounding the Rover and shouting out a string of commands at the dazed occupants as they bought their weapons to bear. One by one, the four stunned passengers were unceremoniously dragged from the car and placed face down on the floor, where plasticuffs were applied and they were secured.
One of the officers ran over to the Rover and used an extinguisher to put out the fire that had started in the engine.
When everything was finally under control, Tyler, Dillon and Kelly Flowers were allowed to come forward.
Three men and a woman lay cuffed on the floor. The driver, recognisable from his hoodie, had blood streaming down the side of his face where his head had smashed into the windscreen.
“Stupid fucker wasn’t even wearing a seatbelt,” the skipper in charge of the ARVs commented with a grin. “So, are these the bastards who killed PC Morrison?” he asked, staring down at the human dross on the floor.
Jack borrowed the AFO’s torch and shone it over their faces. He had no idea what Rodent looked like, but he would easily be able to identify the other three
