Hale looked around. Ahead of him were two officers. Huge men. Each at least six foot four. Each with fifty pounds or more on Hale himself.

The man on the right carried what they called ‘the Big Key’. A sixteen kilogram battering ram designed to send over three tonnes of impact force through any door lock. His partner carried a Heckler and Koch MP5. The semi-automatic assault weapon preferred by the Metropolitan Police Unit SO19.

Beside Hale was DS Dean King. Though smaller than the two SO19 officers at the top of the stair, King was still a big man. Similar in natural stature to Hale but lacking Hale’s expanding waistline. King was armed with the same standard-issue firearm: a Glock 17 pistol. Both men would have preferred the MP5 but neither had the training.

Hale looked behind. The short staircase that led up from the street to the first floor was full with officers from SO19. Twelve more firearms specialists, all standing two to a step.

The decision to bring SO19 support had been inevitable. Every item of intelligence the Trident unit held on Ed Burrell said the same thing. That the man was obsessed with weaponry. Everything from samurai swords to grenades, from ceremonial daggers to combat rifles. No one knew how many firearms Burrell possessed. Or what types they might be. All that was certain was that he and his men were armed and that they enjoyed the confidence that gave them.

A confidence that could only be dented by a show of overwhelming force.

The SO19 assault team had been assembled quickly. Fourteen men, all highly trained specialists. Hale had issued their orders: that an armed engagement was to be avoided at all costs. They were there for a clean arrest. Burrell was to be detained, questioned and his role in Ferris’s death established. Nothing else would do.

With the mission statement clear, the team had travelled to Brixton: SO19, Hale and King. Sixteen armed police officers. A force to be reckoned with.

Hale had been surprised to note how similar Burrell’s set-up was to Ferris’s own. The same ‘no questions asked’ style of pawn shop below. The same first-floor office space. The same cramped staircase leading up from the street.

The only real difference seemed to be the location. Popes Road instead of Electric Avenue. Barely half a mile apart.

The team had made its way along Popes Road. Quickly and quietly and in tight single file. Moving as close to the shopfronts as space would allow. No one looking down from Burrell’s office could have seen them approach. Within seconds they were through the stairway door and lining up as directed.

Ready to breach. Ready to make their arrest.

Hale looked back towards the office door and saw the left-hand giant raise his hand. His five fingers were extended.

Hale felt his stomach tense. The first telltale sign of the adrenaline rush that was sure to follow.

Here we go.

Four fingers.

First round chambered.