‘You found drugs?’ Ashton barked, and Singh detected a hint of annoyance in her voice.
‘I’ll say. It’s like an Amazon warehouse full of the stuff.’ The captain turned to Singh and nodded. ‘Good call, Singh.’
Singh smiled, not only at the compliment but by the horrible shade of green Ashton turned.
The rest of the morning played out as expected. As the early morning employees began to arrive, they were held back by a police cordon, all of them agitated at not being told why they couldn’t get through. That in turn, brought interest from the passing public and sure enough, the press followed.
By eight thirty, the national news was broadcasting the sensational story of a drugs bust in a meat packing plant and how the Metropolitan Police had, years after his incarceration, finally felled the mighty drug empire of Harry Chapman.
It was sensational stuff and Singh knew she was too exhausted to face the media. Having been the one to bring Sam to justice, this was only going to launch her further into the public eye, a place she despised.
Whether it was lucky or not, she knew someone who would jump at the opportunity.
Singh turned her focus back to the ongoing raid, watching with amazement at the vast supplies of drugs that were seized from the property. Behind the front of the meat packing plant, there were two well concealed drug labs, their work disguised by the overpowering stench of raw meat. The ‘cooks’ were brought out in cuffs, all of them resigned to their fate of a lifetime behind bars.
It had been a hell of a morning, piled on top of a day filled with confusion and Singh needed to get her head down. Ashton begrudgingly congratulated her on another incredible piece of work, but her mood increased when Singh asked her to cover the media duties.
Ashton was never one to shy away from the spotlight, not when she could align the bust with her own agenda.
Singh made her way to her car, dropped into the driver’s seat, and reversed out. Driving carefully through a small gaggle of reporters, clambering over each other for a quote like a horde of zombies on the hunt for fresh meat, she hit the open road and put her foot down.
Etheridge had just handed her one of the biggest wins of her career on a platter, but she couldn’t muster a smile.
Not because she was so tired.
Because she still didn’t have a clue what the hell was going on.
Singh headed back towards London, knowing that the relentless call of sleep needed attending to before she spoke to Etheridge himself.
* * *
With the cameras flashing as she took her seat behind the desk, Ashton couldn’t help but smile. The Metropolitan Police logo was proudly displayed on the board behind her and she gently flattened her immaculate tunic as she took her seat.
As Deputy Commissioner of the organisation, she was a well known and for the most part, well-respected figure among the press, with many of them already correctly predicting she’d be the next incumbent of the top job.
Ashton wasn’t going to correct them should they make such a claim, especially as Commissioner Stout had already told her the wheels were in motion.
As she looked out at the eager journalists, all of them fiddling with their phones, laptops, and notepads, she took a brief moment to reflect on her success.
Sam Pope was behind bars.
They had just shut down the biggest drug operation in the history of the UK, a feat that nobody had been able to in over three decades.
All of it under her command.
It would take something spectacular to stop her ascension now.
With an understandable degree of confidence, she pointed at a journalist to begin the questions.
‘Thank you, ma’am,’ the young journalist began. ‘First, congratulations on an incredible day for the Metropolitan Police. Can I ask, how did the information about the location of the laboratory come about?’
Ashton offered a warm smile, a well-rehearsed move that made her a pro at her job.
‘Thank you, John. We received an anonymous tip in the early hours of the morning. While we are investigating the source from where it came, I never doubted its legitimacy. Once we were able to secure the warrants to search the premises, we ensured that due care was taken to ensure a successful raid.’
Her response was met with a flurry of activity, with fingers clicking across keypads and pens scratching notebooks. Despite not actually answering the question in-depth, Ashton knew she had them in the palm of her hand. She waited a few more moments, before pointing towards a bespectacled woman in the second row.
‘Yes?’
‘Thanks, ma’am. Original estimates place the value of the drug empire that you’ve brought down to be in the millions, some even saying over a hundred million. Is this the case and if so, is this the most lucrative bust the Metropolitan Police has ever had?’
‘Well, until we have the full facts and figures, we won’t know for sure, but considering the lab is linked to the biggest drug ring within the UK, we estimate the value at the highest end of the scale. Without a doubt, this is a glorious day for our country, as by working diligently, we can reduce the amount of drugs and money illegally running through it.’
As Ashton smiled warmly, she took another question.
‘Ma’am, are the reports linking this drug factory to the notorious Harry Chapman true? And a follow up question if I may, if this is the case, how was he able to operate and control an entire operation when he has been incarcerated for over a decade?’
Ashton shuffled uncomfortably, a slight sneer of agitation creeping across her well-trained smile.
‘Crime will never go away,’ she said dramatically. ‘As we are aware, there are people who dedicate their lives to it and taking Chapman off the streets was a momentous achievement for this organisation. But crime doesn’t stop with him and the fact that now, despite the length of time, we’ve
