Dead Watch: a fast-paced thriller you don't want to miss

by Steve Liszka

  Dylan reached out and took both her hands in his. He was pleasantly surprised when she didn’t pull away.

  ‘I swear, I will never ever make you feel guilty again. You’re one of the most honest people I’ve ever met, and if I could be half of the person you are, I’d be a very happy man.’

  Felicity didn’t answer. Instead, she stared at the hands that were still holding hers. After diverting her gaze to his face, she stood up and wrapped her arms so tight around his neck, he thought he was going to choke.

  ‘I love you, Dylan,’ she said, ‘even if you are a fucking idiot.’

  Confrontation

  ‘Forget about it,’ Bogarde said, looking like he meant it.

  When they’d arrived at his house, minus Jo and Bodhi, the crew had been expecting the worst. Bogarde, however, was taking the news in his stride.

  ‘As long as you’ve got my little book,’ he said, ‘I’m willing to overlook your friends’ absence. I can’t blame you for your tactics. I imagine the two of them are sitting at home right now, making sure that copy you made is nice and safe.’

  ‘There’s more than one copy,’ Wesley said, ‘and we’ve got them squirrelled away in lots of different places.’

  ‘So, don’t even think about fucking us over,’ Lenny added.

  Bogarde laughed. ‘We’re friends now, gentlemen. There’ll be no more animosity between us.’

  Outside, the wind and rain lashed against the windows. An hour before they had arrived, it had been a pleasant, sunny day, but as their meeting loomed, the wind had suddenly whipped up, and the heavens opened. It was as if nature itself knew about the upcoming encounter with Bogarde and had decided to provide some mood lighting.

  The house was as gaudy on the inside as the exterior suggested. It looked like Bogarde had made it as nouveau riche as possible just to wind up his neighbours. Elaborate murals decorated the wall, and tiled Roman mosaics ran the length of the hallway. The marble floors and internal columns complimented the theme, if compliment could ever be the right word. The room Mac had led them to was lined with walnut bookshelves full of burgundy and green leather-bound books that you would normally see in a reference library.

  Dylan nodded at the books on display. He’d been squinting at them for the past few minutes, unsuccessfully trying to make out some of the titles.

  ‘You read those,’ he said, ‘or are they just for show?’

  Bogarde glanced over his shoulder, then back to his guests. They were seated on the opposite side of a ridiculously large table that would take weeks to circumnavigate. ‘Some,’ Bogarde answered, ‘although I’ve never found them to be as useful as some people would lead us to believe.’

  ‘You don’t go for the old “knowledge is power” adage, then?’

  ‘It’s not, that’s why.’ He held his scrawny hand up and clenched his fist. ‘This is power. Doing to others what they lack the will to do to you first. That’s what creates real, meaningful power. Now tell me, have you got it? And please don’t say “got what?”’

  ‘We’ve got it,’ Jimmy said. ‘You knocked that contract up yet?’

  Bogarde smiled. ‘It’s done, not that it counts for much from a legal point of view. It’s my word that matters, and I don’t say something if I don’t mean it. Give me the book back, and I’ll make sure your fire station stays open as long as I’m still drawing breath.’

  Jimmy looked at his friends, who responded by each offering him a nod. He dug his hand into the rucksack that sat between his legs and pulled out the book. The sight of it brought instant relief to Bogarde’s face.

  ‘I’ve got to hand it to you, gentlemen, you have been formidable opponents, haven’t they, Neil?’

  ‘They’ve been cunts,’ Mac answered.

  Bogarde smiled. ‘He means that as a compliment.’

  He nodded at Mac, who walked around the table, taking the book out of Jimmy’s hand.

  ‘And there we have it,’ Bogarde said, ‘our business is complete. You made the right call, gentlemen.’

  When he looked back to Mac and his book, he was almost salivating. Rather than return to Bogarde’s side, his man had stayed in situ, patting the book against his open hand. ‘You know you lot have proved yourself to be a stupid bunch of pricks over the last few months. Brave, too, I’ll give you that, but stupid, mainly. But what you’ve done shows just what a bunch of dumb-fucks you really are. With this book, you had the chance to take down one of the most powerful men you’re ever likely to meet. If you idiots had played it right, you could have had him on his knees by now.’

  Bogarde’s nose wrinkled as he listened. ‘Bring that book back over here, will you. There’s a good man.’

  Mac ignored him. ‘Do you have any idea how much he’s worth? And what do you ask for? Small change to keep that piss-pot fire station of yours up and running.’ He held the book aloft for them to inspect. ‘You don’t deserve it.’

  Bogarde’s voice deepened. ‘Bring the book to me, Neil. Now!’

  ‘Tell you what I’ll do,’ Mac said, focusing only on the firefighters. ‘I’ll show you fellas how to bleed someone dry properly. I’ll let you take notes, just in case you ever get in a similar situation again.’

  He turned his attention to his former employer and gave him the widest of smiles.

  Bogarde’s face went grey as he realised what was taking place. ‘You son of a bitch,’ he whispered. ‘I’ll kill you for this.’

  Mac smiled. ‘No, you won’t. You won’t do a goddamn thing. Now, shut the fuck up while I decide just how badly I’m going to screw you over.’

  Bogarde sat back in his chair like he’d just been shot. ‘I thought we were friends.’

  Mac laughed from deep within his belly. ‘Friends? I’ve been busting heads for you for over twenty years, and what have you given me in return? Twenty percent of a business that I created, that I took all the risk for. I’ve killed more people for you than I can remember, and you haven’t even got the decency to give me a decent slice of the pie. That’s not what friends do for each other.’

  Bogarde held his palms aloft. ‘We can sort that out. You’ll get a better deal from now on, trust me.’

  ‘Trust you?’ He pointed at the guests. ‘I’d trust this lot more than I’d trust you. See, it’s not just the business, John. It’s about respect, and you’ve got none for me.’

  Bogarde shook his head. ‘How can you say that? You’re like part of my family.’

  ‘Am I? When was the last time you invited me and Jane over for a social event, then? Do you even know my girls’ names?’

  ‘Neil,’ Bogarde said, ‘what are you talking about? I can still remember the look on your face when Faye and Rachel were born. How can you say these things to me?’

  Mac brushed off his words with a shake of his head. ‘I’m just a skivvy to you, always have been, always will. The only time you need me is when you’ve got shit that needs clearing up. That finishes here, this book changes everything.’

  ‘I’ll give you half of the coke business. You deserve it after everything you’ve done.’

  Mac slammed his hand on the desk. ‘I deserve all of it, and that’s what I’m taking. You’ve made enough out of that little side-line for my liking.’

  ‘Fine,’ Bogarde said, ‘it’s yours. Consider it my retirement gift. We’ll part company on good terms. You keep the business and I get the book. Deal?’

  Mac laughed. ‘What sort of cunt do you take me for? Don’t you think after all this time I’ve learnt how your brain works, you nasty old bastard? I give you the book now and I’ll be dead by the end of the night. It stays with me and I get all the profits from the coke from now on.’

  Bogarde pretended to think about it for a few moments. ‘Got no choice, have I? It’s a deal. Real shame it had to come to this though.’

  ‘Plus,’ Mac said, ‘I want ten million pounds in cash by the end of the week. Call it compensation for all the bullshit I’ve had to put up with over the years.’

&
nbsp; Bogarde’s face had turned from grey to crimson; his anger overcoming the threat. He pushed out his chair and stood up. ‘Now, you listen to me, you horrible little prick, I’ve put up with enough of this shit. Give me that book back right now, or I’ll feed you to the fucking dogs.’

  Mac smiled. ‘Ah, there he is. Nice to see the real you back again.’ He took his gun out of his belt and aimed it at Bogarde’s chest. ‘Now sit down, old man, and shut your mouth for once.’

  ‘I’ll kill you myself,’ Bogarde snarled at him. ‘I promise you now. You’re a dead man, Neil. A fucking dead man.’

  Mac put his finger to his lips. ‘Hush, you’re starting to annoy me.’

  ‘I’m starting to annoy you? Why you little–’

  Mac lowered the gun and shot Bogarde in the gut. The noise almost made the firefighters fall out of their seats.

  ‘You can keep the ten million,’ Mac said. ‘Just shut your stinking mouth.’

  Two of Bogarde’s heavies ran into the room, seemingly unsurprised by what had taken place. Mac nodded at them, and in an instant, they had disappeared again. As Bogarde collapsed to the floor, Mac turned the pistol onto the guests.

  ‘Thing is, fellas, no one would have believed he was willing to give you all that money out of the goodness of his heart. The son-of-a-bitch ain’t got one. If you want your pay off, you’ll have to earn it the hard way.’

  As he spoke, the smell of petrol struck everyone’s noses.

  ‘And if you do get him out,’ Mac said, ‘don’t forget to remind him that I’ve got the book, and I’m in charge now.’

  He turned and headed for the door.

  ‘Good luck,’ he said without turning back. ‘You’re going to need it.’

  After he’d left the room, the firefighters looked at each other in disbelief, not quite sure if what they’d just witnessed had really taken place. A groan from Bogarde kicked them back into life. Even though it was unnecessary, Lenny lifted up his nose and sniffed the air.

  ‘They’re torching the fucking place.’

  Jimmy leapt from his chair and onto the floor, where he put his head close to the victim’s. ‘Are your wife and kid here?’

  ‘Upstairs,’ Bogarde said, with spit dribbling down his chin. ‘Please, get them out.’

  ‘Where are they, do you know?’

  Bogarde tried to lift his head. ‘My son’s room. Top of the stairs, last room on the left.’

  ‘I’ll do it,’ Dylan said, springing to his feet.

  Wesley followed him up. ‘I’m coming with you.’

  Dylan looked at his boss like their roles were suddenly reversed. ‘You sure you’re up for it?’

  Wesley nodded. ‘I can do it.’

  ‘Go,’ Jimmy said as he inspected the casualty’s injuries, ‘and be careful.’

  Bogarde’s groans of pain cut him off.

  ‘Keep your hands pressed to your stomach,’ Jimmy said, as the pair ran out of the room. ‘It’ll slow down the bleeding.’

  He stood up and looked at Lenny. ‘If we want this finished, we’ve got to stop Mac.’

  ‘Fuck Mac,’ Lenny said, then looked down at Bogarde. ‘We’ve still got our copies of the book. If he doesn’t die now, then he ain’t going to fuck with us again.’

  ‘If Mac’s got the book, it don’t matter. He’s going to be the one calling all the shots, and when he realises Uncle Jashari’s not really related to the dead Albanians, how long do you think it’s going to take him to come back for us?’

  ‘He’s not going to give a fuck about us anymore; he’s just taken over Bogarde’s empire.’

  ‘We broke into his house,’ Jimmy said. ‘We blackmailed him, threatened his family. You choked him out, for Christ’s sake. He’ll want to settle the score sooner or later. The only way to stop that happening is to keep Bogarde alive and give him the book back. We do that and Mac will have to move to the other side of the world if he wants to keep breathing.’

  Lenny shrugged. ‘Then, let’s find the prick before he gets away.’

  ‘I’ll get him. You get Bogarde outside and call an ambulance. If he dies, we’re all fucked.’

  ‘Be careful,’ Lenny said. ‘He’s got a gun.’

  Jimmy tried to smile. ‘I know.’

  He left the room and ran into the central hallway as the smoke alarms bellowed out their warning. A place this fancy should really have a built-in sprinkler system, Jimmy thought, but that was Bogarde for you, always trying to save a coin. He went past the stairway that Wesley and Dylan would have gone up and headed in the direction the thick black smoke was emanating from. In a normal fire, the conditions would have taken far longer to develop, but they’d clearly gone to town with the petrol; one of the best accelerants you could find when you really wanted to get things going. In minutes, the whole place would be alight.

  Jimmy had to pull up sharply when he spotted the two heavies leaving the front door. Both men were carrying a can of petrol in their hands and were coughing heavily. Due to the amount of smoke, they were oblivious to his presence, and as the smoke layer continued to lower, he had to crouch to be able to breathe properly. Seconds after they left the house, Mac emerged from a separate room and followed their path to the door. He still had the book in one hand and the pistol in the other.

  When he was about to reach the fresh air, Jimmy charged at him, rugby tackling him from behind. As they hit the deck, the book left Mac’s hand and slid five feet across the floor. Jimmy crawled up his back, letting off a couple of kidney punches on his journey towards Bogarde’s prized possession. Stretching out, he almost had it in his hand when Mac managed to roll over beneath him. Remembering the pistol, Jimmy gave up on the book and lunged with both hands at Mac’s wrist.

  As they struggled, two rounds went off, almost deafening Jimmy. One of the bullets had been so close to his face, he had felt the pressure of it passing his cheek. Mac’s grip was solid. No matter how hard he tried, Jimmy couldn’t get the pistol away from him. Instead, he changed tactic and butted the older man in the nose. As Mac’s head went back and crashed against the tiled floor, Jimmy yanked at the pistol with both hands, yelling as he exerted every fibre in his body. Mac finally released the gun, causing Jimmy to fall back onto his arse as the resistance to his efforts disappeared. He quickly stumbled to his feet, turning the pistol around so the muzzle was now pointing at Mac.

  ‘You haven’t got the bollocks,’ he said, wiping away the blood that was running down his face.

  Before he could answer, one of the heavies stuck his head back around the front door, craning his neck to find his boss through the smoke. Jimmy shot a hole in the timber, inches from his head.

  ‘Get him out of here,’ Jimmy said, nodding to Mac, ‘before I blow both your fucking heads off.’

  As the heavy gingerly crept forward and assisted his boss to his feet, Mac continued to smile at Jimmy.

  ‘You should have killed me,’ he said. ‘You boys are too soft.’

  ‘Yeah, well, that’s our problem. We’re all heart.’

  ‘It’ll cost you,’ Mac said as he and the other man backed towards the door. ‘Believe me.’

  As he got to the door, he glanced at the book. It was less than three feet from his left leg.

  ‘Go on, try it,’ Jimmy said. ‘Then you’ll see how soft I am. Now, jog on, before I show you how big my bollocks really are.’

  Mac smiled before stepping out of the house. When they had gone and the smoke layer had dropped another foot, Jimmy picked up the book before running to the bottom of the stairs. It was impossible to see anything up there, the smoke had done what it was meant to do and risen to the highest part of the building. If his friends were going to get that kid out safely, they would have to be quick.

  ‘Wesley! Dylan!’ he yelled up. ‘You okay up there?’

  He wanted to wait for an answer, but when the smoke forced him down to his knees, he had to turn and crawl towards the front door, hoping Mac’s boys weren’t waiting there to put a bullet be
tween his eyes.

  Building Well Alight

  By the time they’d got to the top of the stairs, Dylan and Wesley were already coughing heavily. The smoke was black and acrid, and they could taste the petrol contained in it. After taking ten steps down the corridor that seemed to go on forever, they were forced to their hands and knees. A dozen steps more, and with at least another dozen left until they reached their destination, they were on their bellies, army crawling as they sought out the breathable air.

  ‘You okay, Wes?’ Dylan shouted behind him as they progressed towards the child’s room.

  ‘I’m fine!’ Wes yelled back. ‘Just keep moving.’

  Except he wasn’t fine. In fact, he was about as far from fine as it was possible to get. All he could think about, as they made their way down the corridor, was the last time he had been in a similar situation to this; when he’d abandoned his partner and fled the building. What struck him, as the smoke filled his lungs, was that the feeling of panic he was experiencing was exactly the same as it had been all those years before. He desperately wanted to do the same thing as he had done on that occasion; turn and leave the building as quickly as he possibly could.

  Except this time, he didn’t. Instead, he did the thing that countless other firefighters had done before him. He took that fear, panic and self-doubt that was rising up his throat, swallowed it down and got on with the job in hand. He pushed his nose closer to the floor to avoid the smoke and did his best to keep up with his partner.

  ‘I’ve found it,’ Dylan said finally. ‘I’ve got the door.’

  He turned and grabbed his boss, directing him towards the area in question. It wasn’t uncommon for BA partners to manhandle each other in such circumstances; it was quicker and easy than explaining to them when visibility was this poor.

  ‘We need to get in and get the door shut behind us as quick as possible,’ Dylan said. ‘We don’t want them breathing in this shit.’

  ‘Fine,’ Wes coughed. ‘Let’s just do it.’