The Drop

by Howard Linskey

  All we could do now was wait until it got light. That’s when it would happen. I looked at the dark sky around me and wondered how many of us would still be alive when night came around once more.

  THIRTY-FOUR

  ...................................................

  We’d been waiting for hours, crouched down, in silence, freezing our bollocks off, trying not to think about what would happen if it all went wrong

  It was just after eight in the morning when the Russians finally got their act together. We heard the latch on the door snap back and started, immediately going on the alert. Both Palmer and I had our guns ready. We listened intently as the door swung open, squeaking on its hinges, and low muffled voices reached us as they trudged out of the farmhouse. We were out of sight but knew we’d be able to see their backs in a moment as they walked across the farm yard towards their car. I was praying the others were as wide awake and alert as we were.

  Seeing nothing amiss, they ambled towards the blacked-out Porsche Cayenne that was parked some way from their front door. It must have made a lot of sense to them to have somewhere isolated to lie low after hitting our organisation, but being this far from the city had its disadvantages, as they were about to find out. We knew they’d all be armed but we didn’t want to give them time to reach for weapons.

  We’d worked out the crossfire in advance, thanks to Palmer’s recce the night before. We waited till they had almost reached the car then I shouted. That was the signal. What happened next was a blur. I saw the Russians spin round towards us in surprise, then Kinane and his sons stepped out from behind a skip with their shotguns raised. They didn’t hang about, they just let them have it. At the same time, my brother opened up from behind the hedge. Palmer and me, we were behind their backs, blind-siding them as we stepped out from the side of the farmhouse.

  We’d been waiting a long time in the cold but it was worth it to see the looks of comprehension on their dumb faces. They had just enough time to work out what was going to happen to them before we let loose but no time to react to it. The noise was incredible. Where all had been deathly quiet, there was a sudden explosion of gunfire and shouting. They were shouting because they were dying. We were shouting because we were killing them. The bodies twitched and were thrown about as they took the shotgun blasts from Kinane and his sons, the rifle bullets my brother was letting loose at a hell of a rate and all the rounds from the automatic pistol and the SLR Palmer and I were pumping into them. The glass from the nearby car’s windows popped and burst, the metal of the bodywork sang as the bullets bounced through it and the tyres sagged, making the Porsche Cayenne sink into the mud, as if the car itself was dying along with them.

  When we’d finished hitting them they were a mess. There was blood everywhere. A fly couldn’t have escaped the carnage. When the boys stopped firing, I walked up to the Russians, who were lying where they’d stood a moment ago, and put a round into each of their heads, just to make sure. I didn’t really need to do it but I wanted to. It made me feel better after what they’d done to me. The last man to take one of my bullets was Vitaly. He didn’t look so cocky now though. I did it for Cartwright, who’d been executed without mercy on a cold factory floor, I did it for Finney who’d been taken without a shot being fired then tortured to death while the Russian guys laughed at him. I did it for Bobby and, of course, Sarah. Most of all, I did it for me.

  ‘You’re a long way from home,’ I told Vitaly’s shocked and open, lifeless eyes, before I put a round right between them.

  After I shot him, I put my gloved hand into his inside jacket pocket and pulled out his mobile phone, then I walked away from his body. Above me, panicked crows cawed manically as they flew out of the trees all around us.

  I checked Vitaly’s sent messages - and there was nothing recent. I then went into his video files and found the footage I was looking for. I made sure nobody else was next to me when I watched it. It was indistinct, the light in the warehouse insufficient to show us up clearly. All I could make out was a grey, grainy image of a man, who may or may not have been me, standing there with a gun in his hand and another pointed at his head. At least, if anybody did see it, they’d realise I was being forced into it. I watched as I raised the gun and fired. The camera angle moved and a large, grey haired man, who may or may not have been Bobby Mahoney, but could just as easily have been Santa Claus, slumped in the chair. The film halted. It all looked fuzzy and confused, like a bad dream. I didn’t feel as sick as I thought I would. I deleted the file.

  Palmer came out of the house carrying a holdall. He unzipped it, peered inside and walked up to me, angling the bag so I could see what it contained.

  ‘This what you’ve been looking for?’ he asked me.

  The bag contained a large amount of money. There was no time to stand and count it but I was willing to bet that most of it was still there. Gladwell must have been using this as a down-payment for Vitaly’s services. We’d finally found the Drop.

  Strange to think that it didn’t really matter that much now, not in the long run.

  We threw the bodies in the car while Kinane’s lads went back to the main road to fetch our vehicles, then we took cans of petrol and poured it all over them. We torched the Porsche and it went up in seconds. I threw Vitaly’s mobile through the window into the heart of the flames, then we got out of there quick. As we were driving through the gate, their car exploded.

  THIRTY-FIVE

  ...................................................

  When Tommy Gladwell finally stepped out of his home he looked like a man with a world of trouble on his shoulders, and who could blame him? He’d risked everything on one massive gamble, one big throw of the dice that actually seemed to have paid off. He owned a city. It was all his.

  Then he had left his Russian muscle behind to stamp his authority on his new empire and he’d gone home to wait for their call.

  And waited. And waited.

  I could only guess how he must have felt when Vitaly didn’t make that call. All that agonising must have taken its toll; what could have gone wrong, who was to blame, had he been double-crossed? By now, he would be seeing enemies everywhere. Tommy Gladwell must have been living in a permanent state of fear and anxiety, which would explain the bodyguards.

  His missus was already in the car when Tommy came out of their home and one of the bodyguards was holding the car door open for his boss’ arrival while the other scanned the horizon for potential threats, but Our-young-’un and Palmer were too far back behind the bushes to be spotted. I was next to them, keeping low. We’d left Kinane and his boys out of this one. There was no reason to be mob handed for what we had in mind and we knew it would be harder for his bodyguards to spot just the three of us.

  That was the drawback of living in a nice, big fuck-off country mansion. If Gladwell had still been a scussy wee shite from the tenements of Glasgow, like his old man, he would have settled for his father’s idea of heaven; three former council houses next to each other, all knocked in together to make one big monument to bad taste. But Gladwell and his missus had grander ideas, which is why he had grounds and a big clump of trees and bushes just inside the gated walls of his huge house. It was ideal for our purpose. That big house was about to cost Tommy a lot more than he ever could have imagined when he was buying it.

  Danny dropped Gladwell’s first bodyguard smoothly and, as he hit the floor, Palmer took out the second. Before the bloke could even react he was on the ground too, collapsed in a heap on the gravel driveway. Neither of them was getting up again. Got to hand it to our Our-young-’un, he was still a cracking shot and Palmer looked like he did this kind of thing every day of the week.

  Gladwell just froze in shock. He was peering out towards us in disbelief, because the men he’d entrusted his life to were both dead and he’d only just walked out of his own front door. He’d got a good inkling he was going to be next but he couldn’t see us, so he didn’t know what to do. He could
n’t even run, because it all happened too fast.

  The next thing, Palmer put a bullet right into his leg, just above the knee and Gladwell went down wailing and shouting. His missus was clambering back out of the car and screaming blue murder, shouting, ‘Tommy, Tommy!’ at the top of her voice - but no one was going to hear her out here, miles from anywhere.

  My brother paused for a second and looked up just long enough for me to nod at him. ‘Do her,’ I told him. Tommy Gladwell’s missus was still screaming like a fish wife, frantic to save her husband. The next shot took her right in the chest, which finally put an end to her caterwauling.

  I watched her body twist and fall back against the front side panel of their big BMW. I didn’t give a fuck for her, because of what she had said to Sarah when she left her alone with that Russian.

  Gladwell was trying to make sense of what had happened to him, trying to crawl but he was having a problem because of the bullet in his leg. His arm was stretched out despairingly towards his wife, even though he must have known by now it was hopeless. I patted Our-young-’un on the shoulder, climbed to my feet and walked calmly out of the bushes towards him, carrying the small black bag Hunter had given me. Palmer and Danny followed.

  I crossed the land between us before Gladwell could drag his fat bulk to his wife and I called out to him. ‘Time to pay what’s owed Tommy,’ he turned his head to see me then. I swear I will never forget the look of amazement on his stupid face.

  ‘You?’ he managed to splutter and it was clear he thought he had about as much chance of being attacked by the ghost of Mother Theresa, than of being gunned down outside his own home by me.

  ‘That’s right,’ I reached into the bag and slowly, deliberately pulled out the long, flat case then I slid the razor sharp machete free and showed it to him. Instinctively he tried to get to his feet and run, so scared that he’d forgotten his legs didn’t work any more. There was a look of plain terror on his chubby face. I made sure I held the machete high so he could see the edge and I marched right up to him. He somehow managed to slide himself round until he was slumped on his back, propped up against the rear door of the car. ‘You killed my wife, you bastard,’ he half screamed, half sobbed at me.

  ‘Mmm, not yet,’ I said, ‘looks like she is just about to breathe her last though,’ I was no doctor but I reckoned I had that diagnosis just about nailed. Even though Lady Macbeth was technically still alive, the last few breaths were coming out of her now, slow and hoarse.

  I got right up to her, knelt down on one knee and was close enough to almost whisper in her ear. ‘I’ve got a message for you from Bobby Mahoney’s daughter,’ there was the slightest glimmer of recognition in her eyes, “get over yourself Hen”.’

  Then I watched her die right in front of me.

  ‘Your wife’s dead Gladwell,’ I told him, ‘so now I guess it’s your turn’

  ‘Fuck you,’ he said but the defiance was unconvincing. He was sobbing and there was a pool of piss all around him.

  ‘I want you to know this isn’t going to be quick,’ I told him, ‘not after what you did to Bobby and Finney. I’m going to take my time and it’s going to hurt you like you can’t imagine.’ I shoved the point of the machete’s blade right up under his chin. ‘And when I’m done, I’m going to cut your fucking head off, then I’m going to chuck your bodies in with the pigs and they’re going to eat you. There’ll be no fancy funeral for you two.’

  And he started to beg, ‘you can’t do this. You can’t do this to me,’ Who was he to start giving orders, the state he was in? ‘I let you live. I let you live!’

  ‘Yeah you did, and that was your second mistake,’ I told him, ‘your first was trying to take over our city. I’m not going to let you live, you sick piece of shit. Begging and pleading is just a waste of breath but you can do it if you want to,’ he was shaking his head, ‘now I’m going to get started and I’m not going to stop no matter how hard you scream,’ he was screaming already. I’d never seen a man so shit-scared in all my life and he had good cause, because I meant every word. ‘Bobby Mahoney said he’d see you down in hell - so let’s not keep him waiting too long.’

  I got started with the machete then and wee Tommy Gladwell screamed and screamed like you wouldn’t believe.

  THIRTY-SIX

  ...................................................

  We didn’t talk much after that. There was nothing to be said. It was over and we were done - well, almost.

  I called ahead and we got Hunter and Kinane to meet us just south of the border. We took the four bodies out of the boots of our cars. They’d been wrapped in thick, plastic sheeting and we quickly transferred them to the back of Hunter’s old van.

  ‘Just make sure you don’t get stopped for speeding,’ I told Hunter.

  ‘No danger,’ he said, ‘do I know them?’ before adding, ‘just curious like?’

  ‘You know one of them,’ I said. ‘It’s Arthur Gladwell’s eldest, Tommy.’

  ‘Fucking hell.’

  ‘Which is why you are going to make bloody sure they disappear for good.’

  ‘I’ll take them up to the pig farm.’

  It was the obvious destination. Pigs can eat anything. If you need to get rid of flesh and bone, pigs are the best thing when you don’t want to leave a trace.

  ‘There is one other thing I want from you,’ I said. ‘It’s messy though.’

  ‘Right,’

  I told him and he looked a bit sick but he nodded anyway, ‘I guess you know what you are doing. Jesus, how come we are at war with the Gladwells all of a sudden?’

  It was time to tell Hunter what was going on, now that security was no longer an issue. He deserved to know it all if he was going to get rid of the bodies for me. When I’d finished the story he looked like everybody else who’d suddenly learned that Bobby and Finney had been killed; stunned, like the sky had somehow fallen in and nothing would ever be the same again.

  ‘So, are we in the clear now then?’ he sounded doubtful.

  ‘There’ll be no more bother from Tommy or his Russian muscle,’ I assured him, ‘I’ll handle Arthur Gladwell.’

  ‘Christ, he’ll be on the warpath.’

  ‘You let me worry about that.’

  Before he got behind the wheel of his van, Mickey Hunter did a strange thing. He turned back, came towards me and shook my hand respectfully then he said, ‘well done,’ he looked a little surprised like he wanted to add, ‘I never knew you had it in you,’ and that would have been fair enough because neither did I.

  ‘When you’re rid of the bodies go home and wait for me to contact you,’ I told him.

  Seeing Hunter shake my hand, Kinane came over and did it too, ‘it was a good job,’ he said then he glanced towards his sons, giving them their cue. They came over and, one by one, they shook my hand too. Danny walked by and patted me on the back, as if I had just seen off the school bully all by myself and he was proud of me. Palmer watched all the handshakes from some way off. He leaned back against his car and started whistling the theme tune to The Godfather.

  Hunter left first, taking the lorry, with the four bodies in the back, off to the pig farm like he’d promised. Kinane and his lads took a car and followed, to give him a hand and make sure he did what he was told. Palmer, Danny and me headed off in the other one. As we climbed in Palmer started whistling again. This time it was ‘Hail to the chief ’.

  ‘Knock it off,’ I told him.

  We were nearly back in Newcastle when Our-young-’un said, ‘so, that’s it then.’

  ‘Not quite,’ I told him, ‘I’ve got to go and see someone.’

  Palmer asked, ‘do you want me to come with you?’

  ‘No, I’m going to do this one myself. Danny can watch my back. If he sees you, he’ll know and I want to talk to him first,’ I explained. ‘I want a reason.’

  Palmer nodded like he understood. ‘Whatever reason he gives, it won’t be enough.’

  ‘All the same,
’ I said, ‘I want to hear it from him,’ that wasn’t the only reason. This was a complicated mixture of honour and my authority all rolled into one. I was about to see the man who’d made this all happen. The one responsible for all the god-awful shit we’d had to wade through. It was only right and proper that the new boss sorted it all out, drawing a line under everything so we could finally move on.

  ‘Careful,’ cautioned Palmer, ‘wouldn’t want it to go tits up after all this.’

  ‘No reason it should,’ I said, ‘it’s not as if he’s expecting me.’

  ‘What if he is suspicious?’

  ‘I’ve still got the Glock.’

  THIRTY-SEVEN

  ...................................................

  I wasn’t sure whether to knock on the door. If he wasn’t expecting me, he’d be as meek as a lamb, if he was, then I was as likely to be met by a shotgun blast as a cup of tea, but he didn’t strike me as the kind of man who kept guns lying around the house. As I was deliberating this, I caught a glimpse of movement out of the corner of my eye, a face at the window.

  It was Miller - and he looked scared.

  And then he was gone.

  From the look on his face there was no way he was opening the door to me. Any last doubts I’d had about Miller disappeared in an instant. It was him all right. Palmer had got the right name.

  I pulled out the Glock and legged it down the side of the farm house. Miller must not have been expecting to see me again after Friday night, so now he knew something had gone wrong. I was looking ahead as I ran, hoping to get a shot at him as he flew out of his back door, so I didn’t realise I was too close to the metal dustbin that stood against the wall. My knee connected with its edge as I ran by and I cried out as it knocked me off balance and I fell face first onto the ground. He must have been keeping bricks in there or something ‘cos it was as solid as rock but I didn’t care about that right now, because all of a sudden there was Miller up ahead of me.