by Ted Tayler
“This is a familiar story,” said Phoenix. “Men such as these are targeted by one of two main organised criminal gangs operating in the West Midlands. Criminals see this business as high-profit and low-risk. A trafficked man forced into labour can bring the gangs two to three thousand pounds per month.”
The charity staff took one of the men to identify the places where they had been taken. He pointed out the factory where they worked, and he recognised the street in which they had been living in the squat. He couldn’t be sure which house it had been. The houses in the Victorian terraced street looked the same. The men were found a bed for the night. When the charity staff returned in the morning to suggest they told their story to the police, they found the men had already left. Their whereabouts were still unknown.
“Do you think the Roma found them and set them back to work?” asked Rusty.
“It’s crazy, isn’t it?” said Phoenix. “You find yourself hoping that’s the case, despite the terrible conditions. The alternative is that they might have been killed, to set an example to others.”
“I hope there aren’t too many houses in this street,” said Rusty, “these Roma need sorting.”
“I’ve asked Giles to help us out. He’s had drones flying over the street since early today. They will highlight the number of bodies in the properties with thermal imaging cameras. Most will hold less than four persons, so where they highlight a house with loads of bright white blobs inside, then that will be our squat.”
“The Roma gang master won’t be living there, though, will he?” asked Rusty.
“No, but the drones will record traffic movements and relay those to local agents on the ground. We should soon find the main man, and where he drives to after he’s paid a visit to the soldiers who watch over the workers.”
“I wouldn’t want our agents’ job,” said Rusty, “it’s a tough district.”
“I reckon they can look after themselves, mate,” said Phoenix, “don’t fret.”
Phoenix called Giles for an update. Rusty continued to work on the plans for the mission. It was two in the afternoon. Phoenix looked at the sheets of paper in front of him.
“I think that’s it, Rusty. You get off and spend time with Artemis. I can put the finishing touches to these plans. We’ll leave at four o’clock to drive up to the Midlands tomorrow.”
“Why such an early start?” groaned Rusty.
“Four in the afternoon,” laughed Phoenix. “When we get there it will be Sunday evening, around seven o’clock, and nobody will be away working. We can release the maximum number of men then.”
“Great, I’ll meet you by the ice-house with the van at half-past three,” said Rusty.
“See you tomorrow,” said Phoenix. Rusty walked back to find Artemis. She had just left the apartment to drive into Bath.
“Finished already,” she asked, “does that mean I’ve got a big strong man to carry my shopping bags?”
“I’m yours until tomorrow afternoon,” Rusty replied.
“In that case, the shopping can wait,” said Artemis, dragging him towards the door to their apartment.
*****
Sunday, 4th May 2014
Phoenix was up bright and early. Hope was getting over her cold, and he and Athena managed eight hours’ sleep. For the first time in ages, he had time to sit and read the Sunday papers on the patio. The sun was bright and warm. Phoenix read it wouldn’t last. Showers were expected later.
One item on an inside page caught his attention. The Met police had taken Abigail Gordon in for questioning. Their Surrey colleagues, at last, spotted the owner of number 33, Ash Drive, rented it out to the four gangsters they held in their cells. The Met was investigating whether there was a link between the murder of Lay-Z Leroy Gordon, and the tip-off received by their suburban colleagues about the drug factory.
Abigail Gordon admitted allowing her premises to be used to produce ecstasy. She claimed to be not guilty of production of either the ecstasy or the cannabis, nor was she guilty of possession of cocaine with intent to supply. All things considered it was turning out to be a terrible weekend round for the Gordon family.
Athena joined him outside, carrying Hope in her arms.
“Anything interesting in the newspaper?” she asked.
“The police are still playing catch-up,” Phoenix replied, “and there’s rain later.”
“Did you get the go-ahead from Zeus for this second mission?”
“Ten minutes ago. We’re leaving at four this afternoon. Could we do something together for the next four hours? Hope’s much better now. Why don’t we take her to the pool? We can exercise, and play with her, and pretend we’re a normal family.”
Athena smiled.
“It gets hectic, doesn’t it? Will you complete your mission by tonight? Or do I have to lay awake tonight hoping to hear you and Rusty return?”
Phoenix folded his newspaper, stood up, and picked up his coffee mug.
“If everything goes to plan, we’ll be home in the early hours. You get ready. I’ll keep Hope occupied. Fifty lengths of that pool will sharpen my appetite for lunch.”
Further up the corridor, while the Fox-Bailey family enjoyed the heated pool, Rusty and Artemis didn’t surface until noon.
“A lazy morning, followed by a leisurely lunch, is the order of the day,” sighed Artemis.
“I might need to take a nap after lunch,” said Rusty.
“You’re getting old,” teased Artemis, “or out of practice.”
“We have been on different work patterns for weeks,” said Rusty. “When we snatch a few hours together, we’re both knackered. Or so hyped-up over whatever job we’re on that it’s difficult to relax.”
“We both knew it would be difficult,” said Artemis. “I came into this relationship with my eyes wide open, and I’ve got no regrets.”
“Nor have I,” said Rusty, slipping his arms around her waist as he stood behind her. He spotted Phoenix, Athena and Hope walking back from the old workers’ cottages.
“It looks as if Phoenix has been swimming with the family,” he said.
Artemis watched the trio as they made their way across the lawn, unaware that anyone was watching.
“Do you know what amazes me about Phoenix? He’s able to put the stresses and strains to one side at the flick of a switch. Look how relaxed he appears. At just after twelve o’clock, he’s carrying Hope on his shoulders, and enjoying quality time with his wife. In four hours from now, he’ll become the stone-cold killer I pursued across England with Orion.”
Rusty watched the family as they reached the path. He too admired Phoenix and envied him.
“Have you ever considered us having a child?” Rusty asked.
“If we were both in normal jobs then yes, in a heartbeat,” replied Artemis, turning to face him. “But the situation is too volatile at present.”
“Okay, fair comment,” said Rusty, “but I’ll ask again in six months, or a year.”
“We had better get lunch,” said Artemis stretching up to kiss Rusty on the lips. “I’ve only got you to myself for another three hours.”
At three-thirty Rusty collected the van from the transport section and drove past the stable block to the ice-house. There was no sign of Phoenix. Rusty descended in the lift to the armoury. Phoenix was talking with Bazza and Thommo.
“Ready in a minute, Rusty,” said Phoenix, “but the Chuckle Brothers have got news.”
“We received notification from Athena this morning,” said Bazza. “Zeus has recalled two veterans from overseas to take our places in the dungeon. They arrive in two weeks’ time. We start work alongside Kelly and Hayden on the training teams.”
“Terrific news,” said Rusty, “our new recruits couldn’t be in safer hands.”
“Blimey, a compliment from the big man,” said Thommo.
“If you’d let me finish,” said Rusty. “I was about to say, provided you stick to the training manuals I wrote.”
Phoenix handed Rusty half
of the equipment they required, and the two friends went towards the door leading out of the armoury. Rusty couldn’t resist one last quip.
“Veterans taking over from you, did you say? What does that say about you two comedians then, eh?”
Rusty and Phoenix were in the safety of the corridor leading to the lift as the verbal volley struck the door behind them.
On the surface, they loaded the van and started the journey to Birmingham. It was ten minutes to four as they drove along the sweeping driveway. Athena watched from the window of their first-floor apartment. Hope was asleep in the nursery.
“Come home safe, darling,” whispered Athena.
CHAPTER 14
In the Walsh family home in Kilburn, the Sunday dinner had been eaten, and the crockery stacked away in the dishwasher. His wife and the two youngest children sat in the garden. Sean had told them to make themselves scarce while he discussed family business with his sister, Colleen. Dark storm clouds were gathering. It wouldn’t be long before the rain would force his family back indoors.
“That was a fine dinner, Sean,” said Colleen, “thank you for inviting me.”
“Aye, it was better than what Tommy will get dished up, no doubt. Now, let’s stop messing around, and talk about this appeal. The lawyer says it’s got no chance. You’ll be throwing your money away. Money which you and the children will need. Tommy was the leader of this crew, but he wasn’t in a scheme where they pay full wages for six months. Nor did he pay into any pension scheme. The boss doesn’t give a toss now he’s inside and not coming out. You need to prepare yourself for a drop in your standard of living.”
“If you think I’m standing by to watch my Tommy rot in jail, you’ve got another think coming,” yelled Colleen. “Hannon is a jumped-up weasel, who lord’s it over the lot of you because he’s good at sums. I’ll sell the place in Marbella and keep my money abroad. They reckon the Caymans are the best place, don’t they? His fancy motor can go too. I don’t need to travel far, and when I do, I’ll get one of the family to drive me, or take a taxi.”
“How will the kids manage?” asked Sean.
“They’ll have to stand on their own two feet, the same as I and Tommy did when we moved in together. I’m not paying for them to lounge around in the sun.”
“Are you still dead-set on launching this appeal?”
Colleen gave him a cold-eyed stare.
“Do you have any idea of the life I’ve had with Tommy?” she asked. “I’ve known him since I was four years old. We were thrown together by our parents. There was no question about us getting married. I was head-over-heels in love with Tommy at fourteen. Married to him at eighteen. Two kids before I was twenty-one and treated like dirt every day since. I was at his beck and call every hour of the day. Yeah, I knew what he was when I married him, but I thought it would be a glamorous life. I was a gangster’s girl, who climbed out of the gutters of those north-west London streets to live in a big house and have the cash to burn. Even inside Belmarsh, he’s still got a long reach. How can I not launch an appeal? He’s never coming out, but if I don’t try, then I’ll end up on Hackney Marshes.”
Sean was stunned. He had always thought of Colleen as being happy. He wondered about his own family. Did they despise him because of who, and what he was? Did they fear him too?
“We’ll do what we can,” said Sean. “But when you visit Tommy, you need to keep him thinking there’s still hope. When did you go there this week?”
“He called me on Tuesday night, the day after he arrived. He told me to visit him on Wednesday afternoons. My first visit is this week.”
“That means he’s in house block one,” said Sean. “Although, knowing where they’re holding him doesn’t make much difference. Nobody has ever escaped.”
“Dad, it’s chucking it with rain, can we come indoors?”
It was Sean’s daughter, Saiorse.
“Of course, you can sweetheart,” said Colleen, “your father and I have finished talking for now. Will you give me a lift home, Sean? I’ll get out from under your family’s feet.”
Sean and Colleen drove back to her home in virtual silence. As they pulled onto the drive, Colleen turned to her brother.
“I may have to tighten my belt for a while, Sean Walsh, but I’ll not go under. Tommy never wanted me to be the woman I could have been. It didn’t suit his style. I plan to play a part in your business. You wouldn’t let your sister starve, so, find me a job in the organisation. I’ve got more to offer than you might imagine. For one thing, I’m not frightened to stand up to that weedy punk Ardal Hannon. I thumped his head a few times in the playground. He was shit-scared of me then. I’ll make him shit-scared of me now if he doesn’t look after Tommy.”
With that, she got out of the car and walked indoors. Sean sat and watched her go. Colleen didn’t understand what a bastard the little weasel from the school playground had become. He may have been a weedy punk as Ardal James Hannon, but Hugo Hanigan was pure evil. Dangerous waters lay ahead, and he was steering the ship straight for them. Families! He reversed the car off the drive and made his way home. A few hours left before Hanigan flew back from Dublin. Sean was determined to savour every minute.
*****
Phoenix and Rusty parked the van at Handsworth Park. It was seven pm. Phoenix made a call on his mobile. The local team were on the corner of the targeted street of Victorian terraced houses.
“How long will it take us to walk there?” asked Rusty.
“Ten minutes, according to the team leader,” replied Phoenix.
The two agents took their weapons and ammunition from the van and started walking.
“It doesn’t get dark until half-past eight,” said Rusty. “Do we wait until then, or do you have an alternate strategy.”
“I don’t want to hang around on these streets drawing attention. The sooner we can move on to Solihull the better.”
Rusty saw them before Phoenix. Two teenagers with swagger. Both nineteen with the usual uniform; hoodies, jeans, trainers and reversed baseball cap. They had accessories too, gold necklaces, various wrist bangles, and a hidden blade.
“Chumps at eleven o’clock,” warned Rusty.
“Hand over your phone, old man,” said the white one.
His coloured friend shaped to throw a punch at Phoenix.
“Big mistake,” said Rusty. He stepped forward, grabbed the teenager by the wrist, and seconds later he had thrown him into the nearby front garden. The lad was examining his fingers and howling.
“They’ll straighten out at the hospital,” said Rusty, “your mate will take you, won’t you, son?”
“We don’t want no trouble,” squealed the white boy, as he scuttled away to join his injured friend.
“We didn’t need that,” said Phoenix. “We’re supposed to be keeping a low profile.”
“You warned me these streets were dodgy,” said Rusty.
Five minutes later they joined the local crew on the street corner.
“Bring me up to speed,” said Phoenix.
“It’s number 19, up there on the left. Do you see the beat-up Ford van parked two doors further up the street? That’s one of the transport vehicles for taking them to work in Sparkbrook.”
“How many inside the house?” asked Phoenix.
“Seven workers upstairs locked in the three bedrooms. Two armed Roma gang members on the ground floor.”
“Is there a back way into the property?” asked Rusty.
“An alleyway runs the length of the street to the rear of the properties. There are lock-up garages, waste bins, and loads of rubbish. It’s a favoured spot for fly-tippers.”
“Do they have a bin at the rear of our target house with a number on it?” asked Phoenix.
“There is, it’s black, but the numbers have faded so much it’s all but illegible.”
“Right, you know where this bin is,” said Phoenix. “To save me stumbling in on an old dear watching Antiques Roadshow, kick the back door in wh
en I ring. Rusty and I will take out the guards, while you two get upstairs to free the workers.”
The teams split up and moved into position.
“How do we get through the front door without the big red key?” asked Rusty.
“I thought you could knock, for a change,” said Phoenix. “A good shoulder hit should do it.”
Phoenix made the phone call. Rusty thumped the door hard. It sprang open.
“Go, go, go,” Phoenix shouted. There were no shouts of alarm inside the house. One guard was returning from the kitchen with two mugs of tea. The other was watching a porno film with one hand on the TV remote and the other in his trouser pocket.
The team leader ran through the shattered back door and whacked the gangster over the head with the butt of his gun. He fell to the floor, arriving on the tiles at the same time as the mugs of tea. Phoenix silenced the guard in the front room with two bullets to the chest.
“He had something in his hand,” he muttered, “I couldn’t be sure if it was loaded.”
Seven frightened men were released from captivity upstairs. They were a mixture of nationalities, Czech, Polish, and Lithuanian. Rusty tried to calm them, to tell them they were in safe hands. Phoenix found the keys to the van on the table in the front room.
“What shall we do with the tea-boy?” asked Rusty.
“No need,” said the local team leader, “he must have had a thin skull. He’s dead.”
“Tough on him, but it saves us the hassle,” said Phoenix.
Outside on the pavement, Phoenix threw the keys to the team leader.
“Drive into the centre, near the cathedral. You can drop these guys off near the soup kitchen. There’s always a homeless charity on hand there. They’ll help them out. If we come across any documents that might belong to them at our next address, we’ll make sure they find their way to them. Thanks for your help. Be seeing you.”
With that, Phoenix and Rusty set off to walk back to their van.
“No muggers in sight,” said Rusty, “by the way, did you turn the TV off, back there?”
