by Steve Liszka
Jo winked at him and patted his bum as he walked past.
After pulling up his seat at the table, Harrison turned his attention to Jimmy. ‘Now that the station is staying, do you think you can order us some more knives for the kitchen? I might as well have been using the side of my hand to cut that onion.’
‘I’ll ask Wesley when he gets back,’ Jimmy said. ‘I’m sure Phil Collins won’t mind helping out his favourite Watch.’
Bogarde’s offer to bankroll the station had been reluctantly accepted by the fire authority in an emergency meeting held earlier in the month. Some of the councillors on the panel were happy to endorse his offer, whilst others felt it reflected badly on them, with a U-turn suggesting they had made a mistake in the first place. Eventually, the yeses and their belief that it was the people of Brighton that were the priority won the day by the slimmest of margins. The station would stay open as long as Bogarde was happy to finance it.
‘How do you think Wes’ little family holiday is going?’ Lenny said. ‘You reckon they’re sharing the same bed yet?’
‘If a week in Butlin’s doesn’t bring them together,’ Dylan answered, ‘I can’t imagine what else could.’
Wesley had been spending much more time with the girls, and as a consequence, his wife too. They hadn’t got back together, but their relationship was healthier than at any time since they’d separated, and there had even be tentative conversations about him moving back in again. The holiday was their first step in an attempt at reconciliation. Another development for Wesley was that he had decided to stay put as an operational firefighter and forego his job in fire safety. He had already proved to the crew that he was up to the task but on the night at Bogarde’s house, his own actions had convinced him that he was capable of the challenge.
‘Don’t be a snob, you knob,’ Lenny said. ‘When you’ve got little ones, you’ll think Butlin’s is the best thing since sliced bread. Especially when you can pack them off to kids club so you and the missus can get jiggy.’
The bells went down, interrupting their conversation.
‘What we got, Jim?’ Dylan said from the back of the lorry as he did up his fire tunic.
Jimmy stared at the computer screen in front of him. ‘Fire in the open, Bevendean Woods.’
‘Little bastards,’ Lenny said from the driver’s seat. ‘They’ve only been on holiday for a couple of days. Usually takes a week or two before they get bored and start burning stuff.’
Pulling out of the bays, he cursed every child under sixteen that lived in the vicinity of the woods and continued to do so until they arrived at the incident a few minutes later.
Lenny parked up at the bottom of a track that led into the offending area. It wasn’t that large a space, but the track was far too narrow for an appliance to get down. The only way the crew could get to the fire was on foot.
At the pump bay, Lenny filled up two buckets and, with a smile on his face, handed one each to Bodhi and Harrison.
‘You sure you’re going to be all right with this?’ Lenny asked the senior member of the crew. ‘A man of your age shouldn’t be doing this sort of work. Let laughing boy do the heavy lifting.’
He nodded at Dylan who was wearing the flex-pack; a back-pack full of water that made him look like he’d gone to a fancy-dress party as one of the Ghostbusters. The flex-pack was the least effective piece of equipment on the fire engine, if not the planet. The nozzle required a vigorous pump-action in order for water to be ejected out of it, so much so, that after getting a few litres of wet stuff on the fire, the mug doing the job would be well and truly knackered. If he was on duty, Dylan always got dumped with the flex pack.
‘Take care in there,’ Lenny said as the crew traipsed off into the trees. ‘If you get scared, give me a call, and I’ll come and hold your hands.’
After walking for less than a hundred yards, Jimmy stopped and sniffed the air. He turned to his left and looked to the tops of the trees. Grey wisps of smoke could be made out rising above them and drifting north. He turned and pointed in the direction of the fire.
‘This way, troops.’
In the clearing, a small bonfire was burning at a lazy pace. All that was left of the mattress that laid on top was the springs. When the call came, it was probably chucking out heaps of black smoke, looking far worthier of a visit by the brigade.
Jimmy turned to Dylan. ‘Hopefully, the buckets will do it, and you won’t have to waste your time with that thing.’
‘I knew it,’ Dylan said. ‘I told Lenny not to fill it up so much. My spine feels like it’s about to snap.’
As Bodhi and Harrison made their way to the fire, a familiar figure stepped out from behind a tree and smiled at them. He had a pistol in his hand, and it was pointing in their direction.
‘Gents,’ Mac said, ‘I’ve been waiting for you.’
The firefighters stopped dead, not knowing what to say or do.
Mac nodded at the fire. ‘Go on then, put it out. We wouldn’t want it causing a mischief.’
Bodhi and Harrison looked at each other then walked forward and poured the buckets over the fire. The steam produced made Mac take a half-step backwards.
‘What do you want?’ Jimmy asked the intruder.
‘What do you think I want? You and your team of do-gooders have ruined my life. I want revenge, Jim. I want retribution. I want you fuckers to pay for what you’ve done.’
‘Take it easy,’ Harrison said, ‘and think about what you’re doing for a minute.’
‘You should have stayed retired, pal,’ Mac answered without bothering to look at him.
Dylan put out his hands and stepped forward. ‘Despite what you think, we’re not your enemy. We were just trying to stay out of trouble, that’s all.’
Mac laughed. ‘You were out of trouble, you streak of piss. I was through with you, I told you that. Why the fuck did you have to stick your noses in where they weren’t wanted? Because of you, I had to leave my family and run off to Spain. They don’t even know if I’m still alive. Do you know what that feels like? Abandoning the people you love, knowing there was fuck all I could do to protect them from that bastard. Why the fuck didn’t you just let it go?’
‘Because we didn’t believe you, that’s why,’ Jimmy said, ‘How long would it have been before you came back and wanted more from us? We did what we had to do to protect our families.’
‘You had it coming to you after what you put us through,’ Bodhi said, ‘or have you forgotten what your goons did?’
Mac shook his head. ‘That’s nothing compared to what they’re gonna do. After I’ve killed you lot, I’m going to wait for that dumb-fuck driver to come and look for you, then I’m going to kill him too. After that I’m going to go to each and every one of your homes and kill your families, and that includes that pregnant bitch you’ve shacked up with. I’m going to make sure she suffers worst of all. It’s you who’s got it coming, son, and believe me when I say it ain’t going to be pretty.’
Bodhi dropped his bucket and stepped forward. ‘You touch her, and I’ll fucking kill you.’
‘Go on, Blondie,’ Mac said, pointing the gun at Bodhi’s face. ‘Just fucking try it!’
Jimmy’s radio crackled into life with the gruff tones of Lenny’s voice. ‘Everything okay, Jim? You boys need anything?’
Before Mac could protest, Jimmy lifted the radio and spoke into it. ‘All good, Len. We’ve got a number of potential Code Ones down here. Hopefully we’ll have it sorted soon.’
‘You, what? Yeah okay, got it,’ the voice came back.
When he lowered the radio, Mac looked ready to use the pistol on him. ‘What did you say that for, and what the fuck is a Code One?’
‘A Code One is a suspicious fire, and the reason I said it was because if I didn’t answer, he would have come down here looking for us. If you’re gonna do us in, I’d rather you didn’t kill him too.’
Mac shrugged. ‘No big deal. I’ll get him later. Just after I’ve
gutted your wife and made your kids watch.’
Jimmy snorted. ‘You’re full of shit. You’re not going to kill my family, or anyone else’s for that matter. You may be a cunt, but you’re not that much of a cunt.’
Mac walked up to him and hit him on the side of the head with the butt of his pistol. Jimmy dropped to his knees before quickly stumbling back to his feet. He didn't want to give Mac the satisfaction of seeing him stay down.
‘I owed you that. But, yeah, you’re right, I’m not going to kill them, but I am going to kill you. Then, when I’m finished, I’m going to go to Bogarde’s office and kill him. After that, if I’m still in one piece, I’m going to get my family out of this shitty country and back to the sunshine. That’s the advantage of being a smuggler; passports are not essential to international travel.’
Mac stopped talking and studied the faces of the men in front of him. ‘So, come on, let’s get on with it… Who wants it first?’
The crew stared at each other, sharing a look that spoke of fear and desperation, but there was also something in it that said that none of them were going to give up their friends.
Mac studied the pistol’s muzzle. ‘Come on, boys. I haven’t got all day.’
‘Me,’ Jimmy said as he put his hand to his head to stem the flow of blood. ‘Do me.’
‘You'd better put me down first,’ Bodhi said. ‘Otherwise, I'm coming for you.’
Harrison looked at his friends and shrugged. ‘Fuck it, it might as well be me.’
Like a schoolboy requesting the attention of his teacher, Dylan put his hand up in the air. ‘I’ll go first.’
Mac laughed. ‘Isn’t that just the sweetest thing. I’m Spartacus. No, I’m Spartacus. You boys crack me up.’
Jimmy stepped forward and walked to within three feet of Mac. He lifted his head in the air like he was waiting to receive a punch in the face. ‘Come on, you wanker. Just get on with it.’
Mac raised the pistol, bringing it to within inches of Jimmy’s skull. ‘Good choice,’ he said. ‘I’m glad it’s you.’
He was about to pull the trigger when he heard the sound of cracking twigs behind him. Mac turned just in time to see something rushing towards his face. The impact lifted him off his feet and back to the floor with a thump. He was unconscious before his head hit the ground.
Lenny smiled and kissed the head of the shovel he was brandishing. ‘Gotcha, motherfucker!’
He looked around at the others. ‘So, is everyone all right or what?’
Jimmy placed his hands on the bigger man’s shoulder. ‘We are, now that you’re here.’
Lenny checked that Mac was definitely sleeping, then put the shovel down. ‘Was he really going to do you?’
‘I reckon so. It’s a good thing you caught on.’
Lenny gave him a look. ‘You said a number of potential fatalities. I may not be the brightest spark, but you don’t have to be Stephen fucking Hawking to know that something wasn’t right.’
‘Good job,’ Harrison said. ‘Usually, I don’t condone violence, but in this, I’m willing to make an exception.’
‘Me too,’ Dylan chipped in.
‘I’ve always found violence to be a pretty effective means to an end,’ a voice said.
The small, wiry man they all recognised stepped out of the forest. It was Al, the assassin they had escorted to the Albanian’s house to carry out his work.
Bodhi peered into the woods in the direction the man had just come from. ‘Anyone else hiding out there, bud?’
Al smiled. ‘Nope, just me.’
A light bulb went off in Lenny’s head, and he pointed his finger at the new guy. ‘You’re the prick who stabbed me.’
Before he could go for the shovel again, Al nodded at the gun in his belt. ‘I wouldn’t go down that road, if I were you. I’m not here for you boys. It’s our mutual friend I'm interested in.’
‘Mac?’ Dylan said unnecessarily.
‘Clever boy. I’ve been keeping an eye on him for the past couple of days.’
‘You’ve done what?’ Jimmy said.
The man stepped into the clearing and inspected Mac’s prone form before nodding his approval. ‘I’ve been following your man since he got back in the country. As I’m sure you can imagine, Mr Bogarde is rather keen to see him again.’
‘You mean, you’ve been standing there the whole time?’ Jimmy said. ‘Were you going to let him shoot us?’
Al shrugged. ‘I just wanted to see how things panned out. You fellas have been pretty resourceful lately, and so you’ve proved again. If you ever fancy a change of vocation, you should consider a life of crime… Now, do yourselves a favour and get back to your fire engine. I’ll deal with things here.’
Bodhi nodded at Mac. ‘What are you going to do with him?’
Al followed Bodhi’s gaze. ‘Does it matter?’
‘Not really.’
‘Then, fuck off. You boys are done here.’
Without saying another word, the five men turned had headed back down the track. Dylan attempted to look and see what fate would befall Mac, but Bodhi grabbed his arm and pushed him forward.
When they were back on the appliance, Jimmy turned and inspected his crew. ‘Is everyone okay?’
‘Yeah, Jim,’ Harrison said. ‘We’re all good.’
Acknowledgments
The first people I have to thank when it comes to the writing of this book are all the firefighters I have worked with over the past seventeen years. I love my job and the people I work with. People often take the piss out of us for playing pool and drinking tea, but my colleagues are some of the most professional and caring people you could wish to find. I have worked on some great watches with some genuinely great people, many of whom could tell a great story about their experiences in the job.
I felt like I had a wealth of tales to draw from when I started writing the book, and although the main theme is purely fictional (I swear I, nor anyone I have ever worked with, have stolen anything at an incident), many of those stories have been reworked to fit into my tale. There were also many true stories I have also left out, for fear that you would never believe them! Many of the characters in the book are based on a mixture of the very interesting people I have worked with, and I’m sure if they read it, they will recognise parts of themselves. Other people like Dave ‘Trigger’ Sommer, and Leanne Emery Garner (by far the nicer of the firefighting Garners), I have pretty much cut and pasted into the novel.
So thank you Red Watch, High Wycombe, my first watch where I learnt so much. Keith Carmichael, I remembered one your jokes and worked it into the plot. Thank you Green Watch, Hove for welcoming me to East Sussex. Mark Moss I hope you don’t mind me stealing your unique style of texting. Thank you, Blue Watch, Preston Circus for turning me into the belligerent prick that I am today and ruining my chances of future promotion (I mean that in a good way), and finally thanks to Green Watch, Preston Circus, for somehow managing to put up with my shit for the last ten years. You are literally awesome. I also want to praise the work of the FBU, who despite brutal government cuts to fire services nationwide, have continued to watch our backs and fight the good fight.
Thanks to David Gaylor for reading the book and offering me some incredibly helpful feedback. Thanks to Mark Taylor, for helping with things from the point of view of the police, and explaining how I could smuggle drugs more efficiently. Dave Statham, my gaffer, cheers for your advice on managing operational incidents. Morgen Bailey, thank you for editing the book and teaching me a great deal about the English language. Sorry for not removing all the rude words, but firefighters swear a lot!
Thank you so much to Betsy and Fred at Bloodhound Books for taking a chance on me and publishing the novel. After dozens of rejections from agents and publishers, I was ready to give up on the book, but then I was contacted by Betsy. That was definitely the best moment of my writing career to date. Thanks also to the rest of the team at Bloodhound; Sarah Hardy, Sumaira Wilson, Alexina Golding and anyone
else who was involved in getting the book out into the world. Thank you all, Bloodhound rock!
Buddy and Sylvie, thanks for being you, and Ange, thanks everything x
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