by Clive Barry
The two lads stepped quietly from the back of the van. Paul gave Jockie a head start allowing him to walk past, then stepped forward himself and approached the skinny youth in the doorway.
‘Watcha got?’ said Paul,
‘Nowt why?’
‘Empty yer fuckin’ pockets into this bag then.’
‘Fuck off, who’d yeh think you fuckin’ are like?’
Paul broke the youths nose, tugging his hidden hand out of the jacket pocket to find he’d been holding a long razor sharp hacksaw blade with electrician’s tape wrapped around, making a handle.
He emptied the pockets ripping the linings out of the clothing so they couldn’t be used again, finding loose notes and change together with a mixture of tablets, powders and small wrapped parcels in tin foil. Everything went into a clear plastic bag. Paul then took the youths mobile off him, bringing his heavy booted heel down on it, rendering it totally useless.
‘Right lad, this is the only fuckin’ warnin’ yer ever likely to get from me, so fuck off and don’t ever let me see yeh back here again, cos next time, I’m really gonna fuckin’ mess with yeh.’
With that Paul walked back to the van, waited for Jockie to come along from the opposite side of the road where he’d been watching and they all drove off to the next drop.
‘Well that was relatively simple. I don’t expect them all to be quite so easy though, keep yer eyes open lads and watch each other’s fuckin’ backs.’
Mike and Jockie were the next up. Same arrangement, they parked the van along the road away from the drop. Mike walked past as the spotter, while Jockie approached the dealer.
‘Now then sunshine, what yeh fuckin’ sellin’?’
‘I don’t fuckin’ know you do I?’
‘Och aye, a’course yeh fuckin’ do mate. I’m yer worse fuckin’ nightmare. We musta met sometime afore laddie.’
With that Jockie lifted his leg and stamped his heavy military boot into the side of the seller’s knee, snapping the leg joint and dropping the drug pusher onto the floor whereby Jockie then brought the heel of the same boot down on his nose, splitting the skin and snapping the cartilage to one side.
‘See, now do yeh fuckin’ remember me? I bet yeh dinna want me to fuckin’ come back though. So why don’t yeh be a good laddie and pull all yeh fuckin’ pockets inside out afore I get really pissed off wi’ yeh. Cos next off, me boots gonna’ make fuckin’ contact wi’ yer wee fuckin’ knackers and when I kick yeh balls up inta yeh fuckin’ throat, yeh gonna end up looking like yeh got a wee case of the fuckin’ mumps.’
The pusher did as he was told, emptying his pockets into another plastic bag. Jockie then got down on his knees and cut the pocket linings out from the jeans and jacket of the piece of scum.
‘Now then laddie, it may not feel like it right at this moment in time, but tonight’s yer lucky fuckin’ night, cos I’m no gonna kill yeh. However, if I should ever catch yeh out here again, then your gonna wake up in an intensive fuckin’ care unit. Now then my little ray of fuckin’ sun light, where’s your mobile?’
The pusher put out his hand holding his phone while Jockie stamped hard on both hand and phone smashing them to pieces.
‘Och sorry yeh wee daft twat. Yeh shoulda left fuckin’ go first shouldn’t yeh?’
As Jockie turned to go back to the van, one of the pusher’s partners came running across to aid his mate, passing close to Mike who turned on him swiftly throwing him off balance over his shoulder and laying him flat on his back with a resounding crunch as his head made contact with the concrete pavement. Mike followed him down with a sharp fist in his teeth loosening the top front ones.
‘Okay mate, now empty yeh fuckin’ pockets.’
‘Do you ‘ave any fuckin’ idea who owns this shit fuck face?’
‘Yes, as a matter of fact. I do mate,’ said Mike emptying the downed teens pockets and cutting away the linings before dismantling the mobile phone with his boot.
The two of them walked casually back to the van, climbing in the back, closing the doors behind them.
‘Okay,’ said Paul, ‘well done lads, next on the agenda is a flat and I’ve been told these lads are the ones supplyin’ all the streets in this area, so we can expect it to be well guarded and secured. There should also be a lot of cash and dope kicking around, so we all go in together for this one. Jockie your gonna be lead man so tatty yeh self up a bit. Timber you’ll probably need to take down the door so bring that fourteen pound sledgie with yeh and don’t let them see yeh through any spy holes. You’re our secret weapon.’
The drive to the flat took nearly fifteen minutes. It was situated above a shop with the entrance around the back up a flight of concrete stairs.
From below, the door looked to be a simple double glazed unit. There were no cameras that could be seen anywhere nearby, so they weren’t being watched by anyone. The whole system was so complacent and laid back, it really deserved to be raided.
Jockie went up the stairs loud and singing, acting the drunk in need of making a hit. He banged hard on the door, shouting abuse at whoever might be inside and eventually it was opened by a huge man in jeans and what may have been, once upon a time white vest.
‘What fuck you want,’
‘I need to fuckin’ score mate. I’m fuckin’ desperate.’
‘Who say for you to come here?’
‘Fuck off laddie, every fucker in town knows to come ‘ere.’
‘I got notting for you, now fuck off.’
‘Away man, summit just to tide me over.’
With that Jockie pulled out a twenty pound note. The big man looked at it, then took it off him, shut the door and returned inside to get Jockie’s fix.
While the door was shut the other three came silently at full speed up the stairs pulling ski masks down over their faces. As the door was unlocked and started to open Timber hit it with all his strength at the handle. The door buckled, the big man inside went down on his knees having taken the full slam to the face and Paul followed by Mike and Jockie poured through the open doorway with Timber walking slowly behind, holding the fourteen pounder as though it was a simple pin hammer.
There were two others inside the flat. Both of which had their backs to the door playing a racing game on a computer console. They’d heard the bang as the door went in, but the speed of Paul’s squad was such that neither of them had any time to react and their Uzi semi-automatic weapons were still on the big kitchen table with neatly rolled notes of every denomination and drugs of every type.
Paul and Jockie grabbed the guns up swiftly as they went past and with a fluid motion of many years’ experience, primed and cocked them with expert hands, pointing them directly into the faces of the two racing car drivers.
‘Who’s in charge here?’ asked Paul, but the two game boys looked at each other and shrugged not understanding a word of anything he was saying.
‘I guess the big fella’s the spokesman for the group then. Right Timber, drag large lad over here, then you and Mike outside by the van. I don’t wanna get caught in here with no backup, quick as yeh like lads.’
Without what appeared to be any effort at all, the Timber dragged the semiconscious heavy lump of man mountain into the main room by his arms, picked up his Thor’s hammer and with Mike, departed the flat.
Jockie had already started collecting all the money into a black plastic bin liner with the drugs and mobile phones into a second separate one. Paul stepped into the kitchen keeping the two foreign racing car drivers covered while he went and filled a pan with water from the cold tap. This he slowly poured onto the face of the man on the ground with a lump the size of a goose egg in the middle of his forehead. The other two remained kneeling on the floor with their fingers interlocked on top of their heads.
Gradually he started coming around spluttering and coughing, slowly and groggily he sat up against the wall.
‘What fuck you want,’ he said rubbing the lump on his forehead.
‘We h
ave everything we want,’ said Paul, ‘just tell your boss, that we are from out of town and we are moving in. Tell him to watch his back cos were coming to get him, understand?’
‘I understand plenty. I understand you a fucking dead man.’
‘Right all three of yeh up against the wall, now and quick about it.’
The big man passed on Paul’s instructions to the two kneeling gamers and all three stood backs against the wall, hands on their heads. Paul switched off the automatic fire on the gun he was holding and rapidly fired a single shot through each one of the three’s right foot.
‘That should slow the fuckers down a bit,’ said Paul as he watched them all writhing around on the floor swearing and cursing in some foreign language he didn’t understand. Paul and Jockie quickly departed the flat with the guns, the money and the drugs.
The four of them all went back to the van and headed out of the city to Paul and Mikes place. Once there, they unloaded the van, bringing all the bags inside.
‘Best to park the van ‘round the corner Timber, just in case the house is being watched. We’ve already had a visit from them the other day while we were out.’
‘Okay Vicker, back in a very short while.’
‘So now then, what the fuck do we do wi’ this lot?’ said Mike to his big brother.
‘Right, pile all the money over on the kitchen worktop and you start countin’ Mike. Let’s see just how much those bastards ‘ave fuckin’ lost tonight. Jockie mate, you put all the drugs in one big bin liner. We got some large cooler boxes out the back yard from the boat, we can stash it out there in one of them fuckers for the time being. Keep the weapons handy though, we might just have need of them. Saves us usin’ our own.’
Just then Timber walked back inside.
‘Anyone fancy a nice cup of tea and a packet of biscuits or two, my treat?’ with that he walked into the kitchen and put the kettle on.
‘Right lads, let’s get this stuff outta the way and grab a few hours shut eye. Mike have yeh done a tally yet?’
‘Aye boss, a few quid under fifty three thou’, five hundred,’
‘Ouch! That’s gonna hurt someone’s fuckin’ pocket, especially when yeh add the junk in the yard to it as well. There’s gonna be some very unhappy little fuckin’ Albanians wakin’ up, spittin’ their dummies out this fuckin’ mornin’.’
CHAPTER FIFTY-TWO
‘Sorry to bother you so early Mr Demaci, but there seems to have been trouble through the night at a few of the drops.’
Donika Demaci pulled himself up before looking at the gold Patek Philippe wrist watch on the cabinet by the side of the bed. The time was just coming up to half past six.
‘What kind of trouble are we talking about Bashkim?’
‘Well, it would seem that some of our men have been attacked in the streets and one of the drop houses also raided. Each of the men inside received a bullet through the foot. Some of the street pushers seem to have been attacked as well, with all the drugs and money taken off them.’
‘How much have we lost in revenue then?’
‘Based on what the men have told me, it’s over fifty thousand pounds in cash. But if you consider the drugs that were taken as well, you can at least double that figure.’
‘And do we have any idea who is responsible for this atrocity?’
‘No, not really sir, one of the men said he recognised a Scottish accent and another said they mentioned coming from out of town to take over.’
‘Outrageous! Taking over! Fucking outsiders. Who the fuck do they think they are? Right Bashkim get straight onto it. I want this matter resolved immediately and it might be worth your while doubling security on the streets.’
‘Yes sir, straight away, but Mr Demaci, this is not the act of amateurs, these men appear to be quite professional and military in their actions.’
‘Even more reason for our people to be more vigilant then Bashkim.’
With that Donika Demaci hung up. Swung his legs out of bed and walked straight into the shower. The day had only just begun and already Donika Demaci was in a fierce mood. ‘Fucking outsiders, who did they think they were fucking dealing with?’
CHAPTER FIFTY-THREE
Sally woke with a smile on her pretty face, stretched her long lean body and reached over to tickle the hairs on Dave’s chest. After a few second’s he seemed to stir and scratch with irritation.
Sally started to giggle quietly watching his annoyance slowly building up. Eventually his eyes opened and once he realised the cause of his discomfort, he grabbed Sally under her arms and started to tickle, making her squirm and wriggle like an eel.
‘Stop it, stop it, you’ll wake the bairns. It’s too early for them to get up. Let them sleep for a while longer.’
‘Excuse me lady, but if I remember correctly, it was you that woke me up. I was havin’ a great dream as well. I dreamt I was in bed with this long legged beauty who kept forcing me to have my evil way with her.’
‘That wasn’t a dream, yeh kept wakin’ up through the night an ‘avin’ a quick grope. Then rollin’ over and goin’ back to sleep again yeh mucky pup.’
Dave put his arm around Sally’s shoulder and she snuggled into him,
‘What time is it Sal?’
‘Just after seven, we’re okay for a few minutes. Then I’ll get up and make breckies.’
‘When we get the kids off to school Im gonna hafta go to my place and get some clean clothes if I’m stayin’ here a while.’
‘Oh, so yeh intend stayin’ a while do yeh? Well we’ll need to do a food shop then.’
‘Okay, so you come with us, we drop the kids off, go to my place then do a shop, be back before lunch. Oh! then what can we do?’
Sally giggled again, ‘whatever comes up lover, whatever comes up.’
With that Sally jumped naked out of bed and climbed straight into the shower. Back after a few minutes fresh faced and squeaky clean.
CHAPTER FIFTY-FOUR
Paul was also up and dressed early. Eating the first of his two slices of toast and drinking his big mug of tea. Mike was upstairs fast asleep, with the Timber sleeping in his room on an air bed and sleeping bag. Jockie had shared Pauls room, also on an air bed.
Paul just started on his second slice when his phone came alive, he answered it on the fourth ring.
‘Ya, who is it?’
‘Alright mate. It’s me Jacko, from the Ship and Anchor, remember?’
‘Aye, course I remember. Mornin’ Jacko best mate, how you doin’ this fine fuckin’ mornin’?’
‘Fuckin’ good mate, fuckin’ good, thanks for askin’ though. Hey listen, I think I may have got summit. Summit maybe of interest to yeh. Can we have a meet or summit, somewhere?’
‘Why not Jacko, where and when?’
‘We could meet at the pub again, say around eleven if that’s alright wi’ you.’
‘Excellent idea, see yeh later then, cheers.’
The only thing that Paul could think of was that friend Jacko had either some more news for him, or friend Jacko was selling him out to a higher bidder. Whichever way Paul would be there, but so would his back up in a white van. No point in taking any unnecessary chances with scum like Jacko.
The others came down in dribs and drabs, helping themselves to the tea, coffee and toast. Timber fried a full half pound of smoked bacon and ate the whole thing in a large stotty with HP sauce, not even thinking of offering any of it to anyone else.
Paul explained that he had a meeting and the lads would need to wait outside the pub in case of uninvited guests, there was an agreement by everyone on that. They further agreed that they wouldn’t raid during daylight hours as there were too many potential eye witnesses about and the Albanians were bound to be jittery, putting extra security on after last night.
At half past ten, Paul and Mike got into the Mondeo with Jockie and Timber following close behind in the white transit. They all pulled into the car park of the Ship and Anchor and while Paul and Mik
e went inside, the other’s waited outside and watched.
Paul ordered a pint of orange and Mike a pint of best bitter with a glass of coke. They wished Dougie a good morning and went out the back into the pool room. The room was empty apart from the skinny, dirty, skank playing pool by himself.
‘Now then Jacko mate, here yeh go, brought yeh a nice refreshing pint just for good fuckin’ measure, come an’ sit down and let’s hear what’s on yeh mind.’
‘Cheers mate. Listen, this is from a friend of a friend okay? But I think it’s pretty accurate. It seems that there’s been a ship arrived in port within the last few days with a mega shipment of fuckin’ uncut heroin on board for your Albanian fuckin’ friends.
‘Where’d you get this info from then Jacko?’
‘Well I know this pretty boy. His names Simon, smashin’ lad, works for one of them fuckin’ escort agencies and he’s gorra rich sugar daddy who likes ‘im a lot and works from home mostly and this was overheard the other evening when the fuckin’ rich guy was on the phone in his office.’
‘And the rich guy’s name is?’
‘Only fuckin’ Donika Demaci, mate.’
Paul and Mike leaned over the table, closer to Jacko.
‘Are you sayin’ Donika Demaci the fuckin’ Albanian is gay.’
‘No, what I’m sayin’ is, Donika Demaci the Albanian is not so much fuckin’ bent as he is fuckin’ twisted. He likes hurting young boys yeh see and young Simon feels he’s probably suffered enough and would maybe like to be in a position whereby he could inflict a little bit of fuckin’ pain hisself.’
‘Okay, but I need to speak with this fuckin’ Simon as soon as you can arrange it?’
‘Give us five minute’s mate and consider it done.’
Jacko walked to the other side of the room taking his pint with him, returning a few minutes later with a big black and yellow toothy grin on his ugly spotty face.
‘He’ll be ‘ere in fifteen minutes if yeh wanna fuckin’ wait.’
