The Hit

by Anna Smith

  ‘You’re quiet, Rosie. You all right?’ Matt asked.

  ‘Yeah. I’m just not feeling good about any of this. I couldn’t sleep last night for thinking about it. I mean, what am I doing, smuggling people out of the country?’

  Matt sniggered, trying to lighten things.

  ‘I know. And we don’t even get paid for it. Maybe we should take it up full time.’

  Rosie tried her best to smile, but her stomach was in knots.

  ‘I just want this one time to see if I can do the best for someone I’ve used on a story. Sometimes I feel I let people down, and you know the bad things that have happened in the past that I blame myself for. These guys will have money, so once I get them away from here, the rest is up to them.’

  ‘I know what you’re like, worrying about things and people you’ve dealt with. But right now, I’d say we just get this done, and then we walk away. Whatever happens to them after this, it’s not your deal any more. What you’re doing is right. It might not be legal, but it’s right.’

  Rosie nodded. She could see three trucks in the car park, some of them parked a good distance away from the service station. Probably long-distance guys who had come from Europe, then stopped off for a kip before travelling further north. She rang Tony’s number.

  ‘I see your car coming in, Rosie, and the one with the boys in it behind yours. Just drive across to the back of the station. It’s quiet there. I’ll walk round and meet you all.’

  ‘Fine.’ Rosie hung up.

  ‘Just up here, I think, Matt. Behind the station. Tony said it’s quiet.’

  Matt drove, and Bertie’s car followed.

  They got to a deserted place in the car park that was almost in darkness. Rosie’s eyes darted around in case anyone else was there. She got out of the car, and when Bertie pulled up alongside her, he got out too, with Viktor, Pavil and Saban. The icy wind would have cut you in two, and she could feel the sleet on her face. The boys stood in the shadows, worried looks on their pale faces, and she felt a genuine angst for their plight. Whatever life had thrown at her, nothing could be as difficult as having nowhere to go, no certainty in your life, no idea where your tomorrows would be, or if you would even make it till tomorrow. Pavil and Viktor each carried a small bag, and Saban had a small rucksack. Rosie and Matt went across to them, then big Tony came swaggering across in his cowboy boots, his straggly blond hair blowing back in the wind, revealing his single gold earring. He came up to Rosie and gave her a hug, and she caught a whiff of tobacco and coffee on his unkempt beard.

  ‘This is Tony,’ Rosie said. ‘Viktor, Pavil and his brother Saban.’ She gestured to the boys and they all shook hands. ‘Tony will look after you now until you get into Europe.’

  The boys all nodded, shivering in the cold. Rosie could see Viktor’s knees knocking. None of them were dressed for this weather. Saban was sickly pale. She went into her handbag and took out the Jiffybag containing money. She handed it to Viktor.

  ‘You can look after this, Viktor.’

  He took it and was about to stuff it into his bag when suddenly a car screamed towards them, lights flashing. It seemed to come from nowhere. It happened so fast, everyone was rooted to the spot, blinded by the light. Cops, was the first thing Rosie thought, then, as it screeched to a halt, she realised it was not. Her stomach dropped. Three burly figures spilled out of the car. She saw the metal of the guns in the headlights.

  ‘Oh, Christ!’ she heard herself murmur.

  Then, from the back of the car, another figure emerged.

  ‘Nobody move!’ A tall, thin, well-dressed man in a black heavy coat came towards them pointing a gun, holding it with both hands.

  Rosie glanced at Bertie, who looked stunned. Then at Viktor and Pavil. Saban suddenly looked as though he was going to be sick. The tall thin man with the gun moved towards him and grabbed him by the hair, then punched him three times so he was buckled over.

  ‘Saban, you little shit!’ His accent was strong Albanian, like theirs.

  Saban was on his knees, then pulled to his feet by his hair, blood spurting from his mouth. He started to cry.

  ‘Tears, tough guy? You double-cross me, you fucking little shit, you die. You know that,’ shouted the tall man.

  This is it, Rosie thought. These bastards are going to kill us all. Whatever was going on, they weren’t going to leave witnesses. She glanced around, hoping that someone had seen the car screech in. She could see a couple of people at the pumps in the distance. Christ. She had to do something, say something.

  ‘Listen,’ she heard herself say, ‘I don’t know who you are. Please . . .’

  The man abruptly stopped what he was doing and left Saban hanging there, snivelling. Then he turned, his face blazing with rage. Shit, he was taking a step towards her. He grabbed her by the hair, and put the gun to her head. The other thugs behind came a step closer, guarding everyone else.

  ‘You. I know who you are. What the fuck you think you are doing?’

  Rosie didn’t know what to say, and for a second she felt as though she was hearing him in the distance. She bit down on her lip to stop herself from passing out.

  ‘Please. Don’t. I was helping.’

  ‘Helping? You fucking shit. Helping these fuckers? They are my business. Not yours. You speak one more word and I shoot you like a dog.’ He turned the gun on Matt and Bertie. ‘And you fuckers too. Everybody shut it.’

  ‘Erian. Please,’ Viktor pleaded.

  It seemed to Rosie they knew each other, and she wondered if he was some kind of enforcer in charge of the workers. One of the gorillas thumped Viktor on the back of the head with another gun and he crumpled. ‘Shut up, I said.’ Another of the men dragged Viktor to his feet.

  ‘Give me the money,’ the tall Albanian said. ‘Hurry. I saw this bitch hand you something.’

  Viktor glanced at Rosie, his eyes full of fear and defeat. He handed over the padded envelope. They stood watching as Erian looked inside. He threw it to one of his henchmen. Then he turned to Saban. He began to prowl around the three Albanian boys like a cat toying with its prey.

  ‘So, Saban. You are given a job to do, and you cannot even do it. You were told. You knew what you had to do.’

  Saban swallowed. ‘I couldn’t, Erian. He is my little brother. I couldn’t.’

  ‘Fuck you! You know the code. Brother doesn’t matter. Blood is nothing. You have no family. This is business. Your brother betray us, like this piece of shit.’ He pointed to Viktor, who stared at the ground. ‘We bring them here, give them work, new life, and this is how they repay us. Talking to some fucking newspaper.’ He glared at Rosie. ‘My boss in Bucharest, he tells me to kill you, Rosie Gilmour. But I think not. Is not a good thing to do in your own country. You are very lucky to escape in Bucharest. Your friend lucky too. But we will find him in Bosnia.’

  Rosie swallowed, thinking of Adrian. Then the rush of blood came to her head.

  ‘Please. Let them go. They won’t harm you. What does it matter if they are part of your organisation? Please just let them go.’

  ‘Nobody is going anywhere till this is finish. Shut up.’ Erian walked across to Saban.

  ‘Okay. Do your job now. Do what you were told.’

  Rosie heard herself gasp as Erian handed Saban a gun. He dragged him upright and forced his hand with the gun in it to his brother’s head. Pavil broke down, trembling, his eyes shut tight, waiting for the gunshot.

  ‘Please, Saban. Please don’t kill me. Our mother, our father . . .’

  Saban stood, his whole body shaking, the gun pushed to the side of his brother’s head, and with Erian’s hand still holding his finger on the trigger.

  ‘I can’t . . . I can’t kill him. He’s my brother.’

  ‘You have no brother. Kill the fucker. Or I do it and you are next. Kill him and you will live. Do it!’ he barked.

  Everyone stood, open-mouthed, waiting. Rosie braced herself. Then came the gunshot. She closed her eyes for a split second,
afraid to look. Another gunshot. And she felt Bertie grabbing her and diving to the ground. What the Christ! She was terrified to look up. She could see Matt on the ground next to her. More gunshots, ringing out, bullets pinging off cars, windscreens smashing. Then suddenly silence. Rosie looked up, and in the half light she could see one of Jonjo’s boys. She got up on her elbow. She could see Viktor, Pavil and Saban lying on the ground, huddled together. She glanced around and saw that the gorillas with the guns lay motionless. Big Tony crouched behind a car. ‘Fuck’s going on? I’m in the wrong fucking movie here. You okay, Rosie?’

  ‘I think so.’ She began to get to her feet.

  Then, from the shadows, Jonjo came towards her.

  ‘You need to get this moving fast now, Rosie. Quickly. Get these boys out of here. Cops will be here shortly.’

  ‘Shit. How did you know I was here?’

  ‘We were outside the hotel all day. We had a feeling something would happen.’

  ‘Christ! Thanks. I don’t know what to say.’

  ‘Don’t say anything. Just get these guys out of here before it’s too late.’

  He went back to his car with his men, then roared away. Rosie stood over the bodies of the three Albanian gang members, guns at their side. Viktor, Pavil and Saban slowly got to their feet. Tony came out from behind the car.

  ‘Come on. Let’s get the fuck out of here. My truck’s over there. Follow me.’ He headed towards his truck.

  Viktor went across to one of the dead henchmen and pulled the envelope of cash from his jacket. Then he grabbed Saban, and held him by the hair.

  ‘You came to kill your brother?’

  ‘I knew I couldn’t. But I said I would.’

  ‘I don’t trust you.’

  ‘I would never hurt my brother.’

  ‘You double-crossed us. You told them where we were. You shit!’ He hit Saban in the face.

  ‘Please. I want to be free like you. Please take me.’

  Pavil turned to him.

  ‘Please, Viktor. We cannot leave him. Please.’

  ‘Fuck’s sake, guys. You’ve got three seconds or I’m off.’ Tony was standing at the back of his truck.

  ‘Viktor,’ Rosie said. ‘Take him! Quick! There’s no time for this. You can’t leave him here. If the cops come you never know what will happen. Take him! You have to!’

  Viktor stuffed the envelope of money in his bag and turned to all three of them.

  ‘Let’s go.’

  And with that they were gone. He turned back to look at Rosie, but he didn’t wave and his face showed nothing. There was no emotional farewell. This was about desperation, life or death.

  Rosie looked at Matt and Bertie. ‘We better get out of here pronto.’

  ‘Jesus Christ, Rosie. I don’t believe this! How are we going to get out of this?’

  ‘We were never here. Nobody saw us.’

  ‘Fuck’s sake. What you going to tell McGuire?’

  ‘I’ll worry about that back in Glasgow. Come on.’

  Chapter Thirty-Eight

  ‘Gilmour! Where the hell are you?’ McGuire barked into Rosie’s ear.

  ‘I’m just on my way in to the office.’

  ‘I’ve been phoning you for half an hour. What’s happened? Please tell me the stuff that’s coming in from the wires about a shooting incident at a motorway service station is nothing to do with you.’

  ‘Well . . .’ Rosie hesitated, knowing there was no easy way to say it. ‘I’m not going to lie to you, Mick. It didn’t go according to plan.’

  ‘Fuck! What happened? The wires are saying police are there. Maybe three people dead.’

  ‘Yeah. That’s about right.’

  ‘What the fuck, Rosie!’

  ‘I know. Listen, I’ll explain it all when I get there. It all went a bit tonto.’

  ‘Who got shot? The Albanians?’

  ‘Yeah. But not the lads I was dealing with.’

  ‘What the fuck happened?’

  ‘I’ll be in the office in fifteen minutes. But bottom line is, the Albanian mobsters found out where we were. We got rumbled and they came with some heavies.’

  ‘Jesus-Christ-all-fucking-mighty! Is it their bodies that are lying on the forecourt?’

  ‘Yes.’

  ‘Jesus! Who shot them?’

  ‘Mick, I need to go. I’ll see you shortly.’

  *

  Rosie had only stopped shaking after a mug of sweet tea and a chocolate bar. Matt had smoked two cigarettes one after another from a pack of ten he said he’d had in his pockets for weeks. They’d jumped into his car and sped off onto the motorway, heading in the wrong direction for ten minutes before they even noticed. Then Matt took the nearest slip road and they headed back, stopping at a café in the East End of Glasgow to get their breath back. Rosie was still pumped up and almost high on adrenalin. It wasn’t the first time she’d seen a shoot-out, but it was the closest she’d got to seeing someone’s brains almost get blown out at point-blank range. Her mobile rang in the car.

  ‘You all right, Rosie?’

  ‘Jonjo. Christ! I can’t believe what just happened. I . . . I don’t know what we’d have done if your boys hadn’t turned up. How did you know?’

  ‘Word was that there was a bit of aggro among the Albanians here, and talk about the newspaper story. I had no idea about those boys of yours until you told me, but once I knew there was a bit of heat, I just got the lads to stay around the hotel area till you left. Then we followed your cars. I have to say though, I didn’t expect it to get this bad. These Albanians, they don’t fuck around. You’re lucky they didn’t shoot you first.’

  ‘I know.’ It suddenly came home to Rosie how close she had been to death.

  ‘Anyway, those lads you were helping got away and that’s what counts. By the way, I’m sure they’re no innocents themselves, but what the hell. Guys take a risk coming over here trying for a better life only to find these bastards have them in hock for the rest of their lives. That’s just not fair.’

  ‘I can’t thank you enough, Jonjo.’

  ‘You don’t have to thank me, Rosie. Not ever. Go and get yourself a large drink. You deserve it.’

  He hung up.

  ‘Jonjo Mulhearn? Christ, Rosie! You’re keeping some funny company these days.’

  ‘I’m not keeping company. I . . .’ She didn’t know how to describe the relationship. ‘We were in touch after Boag. I think he likes me because I didn’t grass him up to the cops that he was there that day – as if I would have anyway. I mean, he saved my life.’

  ‘I know. But you don’t want to be in his debt.’

  She looked at Matt.

  ‘I don’t think he sees it that way. For a crook, he’s quite straight in a lot of ways, if that makes sense.’

  ‘Aye. Well. You still want to watch what you’re doing there.’

  ‘I will. But, Matt, if I hadn’t phoned him, we were dead meat out there. You know that, don’t you?’

  ‘I do. And that puts me in his debt too. I hope he doesn’t ask me to go on the rob or anything.’

  Rosie smiled. ‘I don’t think he does that any more. His businesses are all legit – at least on paper. He’s made his money.’

  They pulled off the motorway and into the office car park.

  ‘As soon as the pub opens, I’m going straight there to drink four pints in a row.’

  ‘I’ll try to join you once I’ve seen McGuire. That’s if he lets me out again.’

  *

  The editor was at the back bench, chatting to one of the assistants. He glanced up when he saw Rosie come in, and pointed to his office. He didn’t look happy. Rosie crossed the editorial floor, where a couple of early reporters were working away quietly and gave her a wave on the way past. Marion was at her desk, getting her jacket off ready to start work.

  ‘He’s not best pleased, and the day’s not even started. I’ve told him to be glad you’re all right.’

  Rosie smiled to hide her angs
t.

  ‘Where would I be without you, Marion?’

  ‘The wires said there was a shooting. Were you in the middle of that? I heard it on the car radio on the way in.’ She glanced over Rosie’s shoulder and she could sense McGuire approaching.

  ‘Yes,’ Rosie said quietly. ‘But as you see, I lived to tell the tale.’

  Marion sat at her desk.

  ‘Aye, well, good luck with your man.’

  McGuire strode past Rosie and into his office. She followed him.

  ‘Fucking hell, Rosie!’ he barked.

  ‘Yes, I’m fine thanks.’

  ‘Don’t give me your crap. What the fuck happened out there? How did these bloody Albanians turn up?’

  ‘I’ll tell you what happened, Mick. If you just give me a hearing. It’s not my fault.’

  ‘Nobody said it is. But I just like to know what’s happening.’

  He sat down on the armchair next to the coffee table and Rosie sat on the sofa.

  ‘Okay. Tell me.’

  ‘Right. First up, is that the guys for our story managed to get away. None of them got injured. Well, one of them got a bit of a slap, but he’s all right.’ She hesitated a moment. ‘I would have called you last night, but things happened very quickly. When I went to see them up at the hotel, I was a bit shocked to find there were three of them.’

  ‘Three of them. What do you mean?’

  She told him about the younger boy, Pavil, having a brother who had suddenly called him saying he was in Glasgow.

  ‘So the brother was working for the gangsters and sent him to dig out his brother?’

  ‘Yeah. Not just dig him out. But to kill him.’

  ‘Christ!’

  ‘But that wasn’t how it looked last night. I would have called you, but it was half eight and I knew you’d be busy. The boys, Viktor and Pavil, had agreed to take the brother with them. Obviously he didn’t say anything about being sent by the hoodlums to find him, he just told him he wanted to go to Europe – like them, he wanted out of here. So they bought it. Though I think Viktor was a bit suspicious.’

  ‘Were you not suspicious?’

  ‘Yes. But what could I do? He seemed all right, and there was nothing to suggest we were being led into a trap.’