H When Hell Is the Favourable Option......

by David C Jaundrell

  H Chapter 42

  The Cabal

  On the roof terrace a council of war had been called. Contrary to what they had been led to believe the owner of the night clubs was not dead although their source assured them that he would die or be crippled for the rest of his life. Likewise his woman would live and should make a full recovery.

  What to do now?

  How did that affect the message?

  Did it make them bungling hit men or merely show they were quite happy to leave someone as a vegetable to get what they wanted?

  Did it change the situation?

  It was generally agreed that the outcome was not as it should have been and two good kills would have been preferable. That showed power and authority. You could not argue with death. But it was what it was and they now had to press home their advantage. They decided to continue as planned and an envoy living in Britain would go and explain the situation to the owner's manager. If he declined to cooperate then he would also be killed. Their only other problem, as they saw it, and one that they had not paid enough attention to in their plans, was the possibility that a local firm would go in and do the same thing. Hopefully the killing, or attempted killing of the owner, would tell everyone that this was serious and to keep out.

  Whilst the leader of the group remained totally committed to the plan there were one or two, those that looked beyond the now, that saw the possibility of massive problems ahead. They had gone into this assuming the same strategy that worked in their locale would work in England – several thousand miles away.

  They had ignored local competition. They had not really established how powerful the club owner was? What if they did get the clubs? What then? They would have a new base but they could get wiped out in minutes if someone powerful wanted to really get heavy.

  They kept these things to themselves. You didn't question Ramón. Ramón didn't like being questioned. The last person that questioned Ramon's judgment didn't finish the sentence before he got a bullet in the head.

  With luck everything would be alright.

  Hopefully.

  They didn't have the resources to fight a war in England.

  H Chapter 43

  The go between

  The secretary took the call and after listening for a moment said ‘Just one second please, I will transfer you’

  The look in her eyes told Toby everything. It was the moment Toby had been anticipating and dreading. Whilst putting on a brave face for the staff he was scared. Running clubs was ok with the odd bit of commotion but this…..this was fucking deadly.

  ‘How can I help you?’ asked Toby.

  ‘Are you the boss?

  ‘No I'm not the boss. Mr James is unfortunately ill at the moment but perhaps I can help you in his absence?’

  ‘I represent a group of people who are interested in the activities of Mr James. I would like to meet you to discuss what we propose’

  ‘I think not’ said Toby ‘we are quite happy working for Mr James’.

  ‘I commend your loyalty’ said the voice ‘but things change. Mr James circumstances have changed and I am sure Mr James would wish you and your employees to prosper with the club in his absence’.

  The threat was veiled but obvious. Cooperate or die.

  ‘Could you give me a moment please; I have to confer with someone. This is not an easy decision’.

  He put the phone on hold and lit a cigarette. After enough time he said ‘Ok, we can talk. But we make no promises and you have to promise there will be no…..activity….while we are talking’

  The voice smiled to himself. They had told him that the English were spineless in these circumstances and they were right. They were very brave when dealing from strength but cowards otherwise.

  ‘Where do we meet?’ asked Toby.

  ‘I will come to you’ said the voice.

  He had no anxiety about going to them. The boss was dead to all intents and purposes and they had told him that these people would not act without him. He was the leader. They were leaderless! They arranged to meet the following evening…….

  It was dark the next evening when he arrived and he was shown into a small office where Toby sat. He stood up and shook the man's hand.

  ‘Can I get you a coffee?’ asked Toby ‘Milk, sugar?’

  He nodded and Toby left the small, airless, enclosed room to get it…

  H Chapter 44

  Halstomicnili

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  H Chapter 45

  The in between

  His head was heavy and his eyes a little sore.

  ‘Your coffee senor’

  He was confused. The room that he thought was small was much larger. It was dimly lit and the table he was sitting at was also much larger. He sat on one side and three men sat on the other.

  ‘Your coffee’ senor said one of the men in an accent that he took to be South American ‘please drink your coffee. You will feel better’.

  His hand went slowly towards it but when he picked it up it his hand was shaking. ‘Where am I?’

  ‘Where do you think you are?’

  Confused, he shook his head.

  ‘What is your name?’

  He said nothing.

  ‘Come, come’ said the man ‘please be polite. We only asked for your name…..?’

  After a little hesitation he said ‘Ramón’

  ‘Ramon to answer your question, and to be honest with you, you are in a place where, if we wished, you would never be found’ He nodded in the direction of a door ‘Outside that door there are two armed guards. At the end of the corridor there are two others. There is no escape…….’

  ‘Why am I here?’ he asked, his voice was quavering.

  ‘Why do you think you are here?’

  Ramon said nothing.

  ‘Come Ramon, talk to us. We will get nowhere if we don't talk. If you don't talk to us we could be insulted. We have taken the trouble to bring you here. We have given you coffee. You are sitting on a comfortable seat. Why do you insult us Ramon?’

  ‘I don't wish to insult you. I am not insulting you…..I am not’

  ‘Perhaps I misunderstood your silence as an insult Ramon. Perhaps I was a little too hasty to judge. That would be very bad don't you think Ramon, being too hasty?’

  Ramon was lost…..

  ‘Because Ramon I am your Judge. It has been entrusted to me to decide what happens to you. I am your Judge, your Jury and possibly…….your Executioner and so perhaps hastiness is not what is required, eh Ramon?’

  A silence encompassed the room for a minute or so while his interrogator thought about something.

  ‘Ramon I'll tell you what. You are obviously an intelligent man who is involved in something that is beyond your understanding so I'll make you an offer. We would like to know some things that you can tell us. If you talk to us in a civilised way, as we are now, you have my word that we will take you home and drop you off. Completely unharmed…… Now I am sure you are thinking how can I trust this man? And of course there is no way I can convince you. However what I can convince you of is this…. if you do not tell us what we want to know……………you will die! Now I may not be able to convince you of the former but I can of the latter. You will die…….
And, because you have not reciprocated our hospitality you will die in much pain’

  ‘I have a wife’ he said ‘and two children’

  ‘In what way does that make a difference Ramon? Are you saying that when you die you want us to kill them too……? Is that what you are asking?’

  ‘No….no……’ he stammered ‘I am a father, a husband…..why kill me?’

  The man smiled, paused for several moments and then said softly ‘Because Ramon………..it's what we do. It's our job. And I have the power to do so……’

  Ramon started to shake. No one said anything. A silence enveloped them…

  Ramon thought the room had suddenly gone much darker. Tears started to roll down his cheeks. ‘Please…….please….don't hurt me. I am just a messenger….just a messenger’

  ‘Who are you delivering the message for Ramon? And it would be helpful if you don't lie. We will check everything you tell us so if you lie ….’ and he opened his arms and shrugged.

  ‘I can't tell you……..’

  There was silence for a few moments; the man said softly ‘Ramon…Ramon…why do you do this? Why do you put your life at risk for something that you have little to do with? Why Ramon would you do this?’

  Ramon could have told them it was because he was more scared of his father beating the crap out of him than he was of them but he said nothing.

  ‘Are you scared of them Ramon?’ asked the man who was an expert in interrogation and understood the human mind only too well ‘You are more scared of your own people than you are of us? Ramon……what kind of people are these that scare you so? And these are your friends Ramon?’

  The man watched Ramón's eyes and he did not see what he expected to see…. He had not heard what he expected to hear…… He leaned back and closed his eyes for a few moments. No reaction to friends….? No reaction……….? You are obviously new to this game so you are not a hired hand…..? You are not doing this for money but they are not your friends?

  He replayed the conversation…….the responses. Ah………… perhaps? He opened his eyes and moved forward in his chair to be closer to Ramon ‘Believe me Ramon your father is not as dangerous as us….’

  He watched Ramón's eyes which dilated instantly. Knowing he had guessed correctly he said ‘You think we didn't know Ramon?’

  Misunderstanding, Ramon gasped ‘How did you know my fathers name was Ramón?’

  The man did not pause. He was used to people surprising him with what they thought he knew. ‘Ramon, Ramon’ he said as though to a child ‘we know a lot about what is going on but we need to fill in certain gaps…. and we would like you to help us. Will you do that Ramon? Help us…..?’

  Ramon was quiet for a little while then said quietly ‘I can't……’

  The man sighed ‘Is your opinion of our power so low? Even though we hold you in this……..torture chamber…….’ he paused for effect ‘……… where no one can find you?’

  The softly accented words screamed into Ramón's brain and magnified. Torture chamber! They leapt out at him and screamed to him….pain, suffering, death. His shaking became more pronounced.

  ‘How can I persuade you to help me Ramon……Perhaps a small demonstration?’

  He looked at the men on his left and they got up and went round to Ramon.

  ‘No… ’ pleaded Ramon ‘no…..please don't hurt me’

  One pinned him from the rear and held his arms tight by his side. The other just stood there.

  ‘Ramon I want to give you a very small demonstration and then perhaps we can talk sensibly’.

  ‘I see you have a nice watch? What make is it?

  ‘Eh….?’ mumbled Ramon

  ‘What make……is……..your…….watch?’

  Perplexed he said ‘Rolex’

  The man looked enquiringly at him ‘Rolex?’ He stared at the watch ‘it doesn't look like a Rolex. I thought they were only gold?’

  ‘It's stainless steel’

  The man looked slightly disgusted that he was in the presence of a stainless steel Rolex. ‘Well Ramon, what we're going to do to demonstrate that your cooperation is the best policy is break your stainless steel Rolex’

  Ramon relaxed a little. What the fuck did he care about a fucking watch? The man nodded to his standing compatriot who moved to a small cabinet by the wall, took something out and came back. They then forced Ramon's wrist on to the table. Ramon struggled but they were far too powerful.

  ‘You don't have to hurt me I can take the watch off’

  ‘Thank you but its ok’

  He nodded to his associate who brought the hammer down as hard as he could on Ramón's watch……. The incredible pain ripped through Ramon as the broken glass and metal were being driven ever deeper into his wrist. His breath left him; he took in an enormous lungful of air as he screamed in absolute mind blowing agony……..then passed out. The man rang for a medic who came to patch him up and they let him get on with it while they went for a coffee. ‘Beep me if he wakes’

  When they returned his arm was bandaged but he was still unconscious so they put smelling salts under his nose. His head jerked from side to side as the strong salts assailed his senses and he came round. The pain from his wrist was less as the painkillers were very strong but it was still bad; very bad. He started to cry and moan.

  ‘No more, please….no more’

  ‘Now Ramon’ said the man ‘you will see that we are sensible here. All we did was break your watch……. We are giving you an opportunity to help us with the minimum of pain and as I said before, if you do, you have my word you will be dropped off at home. So………?’

  ‘Could I have a drink please? And a cigarette?’ he asked through his sobs and they knew he was ready to talk…….

  And Ramon, in the dark, quiet, deathly room deep below the Colombian Embassy where death had been a visitor before, did talk. And talked and talked. Ramon, it would appear was not just an emissary; he was the son of the leader of the Cabal, who had emigrated to England several years earlier to get a good education and to promote the business when the time was right. Their time was now right. However the son was not of the father. The son was hardly a decent human being and knocked the shit out of his wife but he was not his father. His father would have spit in their faces and gone to his grave in agony before saying anything. The son had verbal diarrhoea and couldn't even stop himself urinating on their carpet.

  When it was all over and the emissary's story had been thoroughly checked the man, true to his word, arranged for him to be dropped off at home. They had promised Ramon that much and it would happen. Ramon was sedated and taken home, as promised………………….

  Ramon had known much more than they had expected.

  Much, much more.

  Ramon senior, it would seem, could not resist telling his son what a powerful man daddy was………….

  H Chapter 46

  The priest

  The hooded priest looked up at the hospital from the back seat of the taxi then felt in his robes for his purse. The amount the driver demanded seemed a lot but it had been a long time since he had used a taxi for something like this, and in London, so he just handed it over without demur.

  He climbed the steps, went in and walked slowly to the reception desk. His heart was pounding and he willed himself to keep control. Keeping his voice soft and calm he said ‘Where do I find the room of Mister James? James James?’

  The busy receptionist, dumped by her boyfriend the night before, who hated the world and all men in it and that included priests, pointed to the lift and said curtly ‘Six!

  The priest walked to the lift, went inside and pressed the button for 6. The Nigel Kennedy version of the Four Seasons wafted through the speakers as it made its slow way upwards. The door slid open and he disembarked. The object beneath his garment felt heavy and he moved it around a touch so that it was balanced. Seeing the desk with the nurse behind it he went over. ‘Good morning. I am here to see Mr James’


  The nurse looked at him ‘Do you have an appointment?’

  The priest smiled reassuringly ‘I have been asked to attend James by Senor Reyes. Senor and Senora Reyes and their daughter, whilst understanding Mr James is not overly religious, wish that every effort, including pastoral, be made to assure the well being of Mr James’

  The nurse nodded. She could see them wanting to do that….. She pointed to a door outside which a man sat reading. ‘Over there….’

  His heart pounded again. So near…… He walked over and the man stood up and looked at him enquiringly, then looked across at the desk? The nurse nodded her assent so he opened the door for the priest.

  ‘Thank you my son’.

  He sat down again to continue reading the latest edition of Gun Mart.

  The priest entered H's room and stood still for a moment….just looking. Beforehand he wasn't sure how he would have felt but now he was here he was gratified that that his body's memory had not reacted. All the discipline, the training, the control of the mind and body, were as they should be.

  Thank The Lord….

  He looked at all the medical paraphernalia attached to H; the monitors going beep beep, the little electronic graphs going up and down and knew H was struggling to live. He allowed his memory to take him back and was again relieved that he felt nothing untoward. Perhaps just a slight frisson….?

  In a different world, in a different time, in a different place, this would have a different ending…… He took a deep breath, let it out slowly then repeated the process several times. Calmer he pulled a chair closer to the bed and sat down. He looked over his shoulder to make sure but there was no-one else in the room.

  How could there be?

  Except perhaps one other?

  The Priest listened intently for any approaching footsteps…… The last thing he wanted was to be disturbed.