The Jason Green series Box Set

by Gordon Wallis

  Quietly I crept along the front of the wall back towards the huge sliding gate. I poked my head briefly into the guard house where I saw the old .303 rifle leaning in the corner where I had seen it before. Good. The chained gate was extremely heavy, but I managed to push it open slightly leaving a gap of six inches through which I could look into the yard. The overhead spotlights cast a murky yellow glow over the many thousands of cubic metres of hardwood logs that surrounded the interior. Although the lights of the factory unit in the centre were off I could clearly see the two accommodation blocks behind to the right. There was a light in what I imagined to be the bathroom of the one building while the other was in complete darkness. They're fast asleep too. I whistled softly to get the attention of the second guard dog I knew was inside. A similar breed to the one I had just fed it responded immediately and ran at speed towards the gate from a dark area between the housing units. I tossed a piece of chicken through the gap before it arrived at the gate and as expected it stopped instantly to wolf it down. By the time I had fed it a second piece through the gap I had gained its complete trust and I set about finding the key to the lock on the chain. I found it on the third attempt and I carefully unlocked the gate and slid it open far enough for the dog to get out. With the promise of more food the dog followed me out and as it ate, I slid the gate closed once again. I squatted down and ruffled its head as I fed it another piece. The scrawny hound followed me happily as I made my way along the wall and back to the sleeping guard in the bush beyond. I left both dogs feasting on the last of the chicken while their master snored nearby. I stopped briefly at the parked vehicle and retrieved the equipment I had bought at the builder’s yard earlier. I placed the two short lengths of heavy chain and the two padlocks into my bag and zipped it closed. The scene inside the Imperial Dragon yard was all quiet and as I had left it when I had enticed the second dog out. I took the ancient Lee Enfield .303 rifle from the guard house and checked the breach and the small magazine in the light of the fire. It was fully loaded. Good. Time to go.

  Leaving the gate-chain and lock in the sand near the front I pushed the gate open quietly and slipped inside. After pulling the gate closed, I crept into a dark area to my right and squatted down near the wall of logs to watch and listen. The light of the housing unit to the right was still on and all was quiet in the yard. I knew the basic layout of the yard from the aerial photographs I had taken with the drone, but my immediate focus was on securing the two single entrances to the housing units. Crouching low and keeping close to the wall of logs to my right I crept forward clutching the rifle as I went. The darkened factory unit loomed large to my left as I made my way steadily towards the centre of the yard. My heart pounded loudly in my chest and the tingling feeling of adrenalin made my arms and legs feel like coiled springs. I stopped and steadied my breathing when I made it parallel to the two cottages. Parked behind the first building was the forklift I had seen before.

  A large log of hardwood was still in its forks from when the stacking work had stopped. I cursed the overhead spotlights that would expose me as I crossed the open yard in front of the houses. Nothing you can do about that Green. It’s quiet anyway. The soft sandy soil underfoot made no sound as I padded across the open area to the corner of the first building. I stood panting quietly with my back to the wall, clutching the rifle and waited. The night was still and hot and I wiped the sweat from my eyes as I listened for any activity from within the first house. There was not a sound.

  Parked nearby was the Toyota sedan with the dragon logo on the driver's door. The window had been left open and I stepped forward a few metres to look inside the cab. As I had hoped, the keys were in the ignition. I stepped back and stood against the wall to wait and listen. Satisfied my movements had been unheard I took the bag from my back, leaned the rifle against the wall and squatted on my haunches to open the bag. The heavy chain came out almost silently as did the padlock. Leaving the bag and the rifle I crawled forward to the wrought iron security gate that hung in front of the door. I knew from the photographs it was the only entrance to the building and I needed to make sure the building's occupant would have no way out when he finally learned what was happening. It was a painfully slow process but eventually I managed to thread the chain silently through the security gate and around the bracket that was cemented into the wall. The giant padlock closed in the links of the chain with a dull click effectively making a prisoner of the man inside the building. I crawled back to where I had left the bag and the rifle and sat with my back to the wall to rest and listen. Feeling certain I had gone unheard I removed the second chain and padlock from the bag and crawled back past the locked door towards the far corner of the building. I repeated the process on the second building silently and returned to where I had left the bag and the rifle. My entire body was wet with sweat and I was panting lightly as I leant back on to the wall to rest. You're half way there Green. The moon was rising steadily in the night sky and the air was still and humid.

  I stood up, put the bag on my back and lifted the rifle. I crept silently to the great wall of logs to my left and made my way in the shadows around the rear of the two cottages. As I had seen in the aerial photographs there were no back doors to the cheaply built dwellings and the two windows to the rear of each building were secured with heavy burglar bars. As in the photographs, to the centre of the rear of the two structures were the two raised fuel tanks. They stood twenty feet away from the buildings on a tall steel stand with an access ladder in the centre. The two cylindrical tanks could hold five thousand litres each of petrol and the height of the tanks would ensure enough pressure to fill a vehicle with the force of gravity alone. After making sure the coast was clear I placed the bag and the rifle in the shadows near the logs and made my way towards the two tanks. I felt naked and completely exposed in the glare of the overhead spotlights but there was no other way. I needed to know how much fuel they contained. I climbed the steel rungs of the ladder until I reached the top twelve feet above the ground. Each tank had a filling port that was sealed with a steel trapdoor and a rubber gasket to prevent any leakages.

  I flipped the latch and lifted the trapdoor to the tank on my right and immediately saw it was full to the brim. The pungent smell of petrol filled my nostrils as I closed the tank and shifted my body to inspect the second one. Although the level of fuel was slightly less than the first I was confident there was at least four thousand litres making a total of roughly nine thousand litres in the two tanks. More than enough Green. After a quick look around, I descended the ladder passing the two steel pipes that met in the centre where the thick black hose was curled. The nozzle at the end of the hose was similar to any at a regular filling station. I carefully lifted the nozzle from where it hung on a hook and slowly unravelled the thick black hose. There were still many loops by the time I had pulled it off to a distance of ten metres. I knew for sure then that I could get the nozzle to the back windows of both cottages easily. Good. I placed the nozzle in the sand at my feet and retreated silently to the darkness near the wall of logs to my left. I squatted down and looked at the scene in front of me in final preparation for my plan. In my mind there was only one weak link. Those men are armed Green. You know that. The padlocks are heavy, but they could quite easily shoot them up and get out. Too much of a risk. You really need to block those doors. There were only two options available to me. The Toyota sedan and the forklift. Moving either would surely raise the alarm so I needed it to be quick and efficient. I stayed in my position and weighed up the various scenarios and how they might play out. A few minutes later, with my mind made up. I got to my feet and picked up the rifle leaving the bag on the ground. Staying in the shadows I moved back towards the front of the dwellings and paused for a moment before my big move. There would be a series of events that needed to follow each other seamlessly for my plan to succeed. I crept forward in the light towards the parked Toyota. The door opened with a quiet click and I slipped into the driver's seat placing the rif
le butt in the foot well of the passenger seat. The interior of the cab smelled of body odour and spilt beer. Ten metres in front of me stood the burglar bars of the door with the heavy chain and padlock lying just in front of it. With my right hand I turned the key in the ignition and the lights of the dash board lit up. Right Green. Here we go. The starter motor noisily turned and I pressed my right foot down hard on the accelerator. Almost immediately a light in the building in front of me was turned on. Still, the motor did not start and quickly I turned the key to the left so I could try again. Fuck! Within seconds, the door opened and I saw the man with the pock marked face staring out at me with a mixture of anger and confusion on his face. He wore nothing but a pair of boxer shorts and upon seeing my face he began to scream obscenities in what I imagined was Cantonese. I turned the key once again and the starter motor groaned as it spun in an effort to fire the engine. The man disappeared into the building and returned immediately with a set of keys. Still shouting, he unlocked the gate and forced it forward with all of his weight. The chain at the foot of the burglar bars clanked noisily and the man stood back and looked at his feet in shock. The man gripped the bars with both hands and began screaming even louder in an attempt to raise the alarm to the man in the next building as he shook the steel gate with all his strength.

  IT WAS THEN I SAW THE lights in the second building turn on and I knew my plan was rapidly falling apart. Fuck! The scene in front of me was quickly turning into one of chaos and I knew that I would have only seconds before I had to move. As expected, the man with the pock marked face in front of me gave up wrenching at the security gate and disappeared from the doorway. He's going for the gun Green, fucking move now! At that moment, the engine fired and I revved it until it screamed. I jammed the gear stick into first and let the clutch out. The vehicle jumped forward in a cloud of dust and sand as the man returned to the doorway with gun in hand. My last vision was the sight of him standing there with the gun pointed directly at my face. The impact of the car hitting the gate coincided with the gunfire and I ducked as the windscreen in front of me turned white as the glass shattered. With the car now stalled and up against the burglar bars I reached to my left to grab the rifle as the bullets slammed into the windscreen above. With my ears whistling I rolled out of the still open door and came to rest with my back against the wall. I wiped at my right temple with my hand and It came back bloodied. A piece of glass from the windscreen had nicked the skin and as with all head injuries it was bleeding profusely.

  “I kill you man!” the pock marked man screamed in English from behind the bars nearby, “I fucking kill you!”

  By then the man in the next building was shouting rapid questions as well. I heard him rattling the security gate noisily as he attempted to escape. Carrying the rifle in my right hand I crawled to my left towards the corner of the building and I heard the window above me smash as I went. The screaming continued as I made my way to the safety of the corner of the building. Knowing I was completely out of the range of fire I stood up and took aim at the nearest tower light. The old rifle kicked my shoulder and the powerful spotlight blew turning the middle of the yard dark. I repeated the process shooting out the remaining two spotlights to the front of the yard and plunging the area into darkness. Move fast Green. The other one will try to shoot his way out as well. I walked around the side of the building stopping once to shoot the three remaining tower lights. To the left of the two fuel tanks the forklift stood in the moonlight. I ran across the sand and climbed into the seat. Unlike the car, the forklift started on the first attempt and within seconds I was trundling along past the back of the second building with the giant log in the forks in front of me. I made the turn left as the back window smashed and I heard the gunshots firing wildly from the back of the second building. I made the last turn as the two men were frantically yelling to each other in Cantonese. As expected, the man in the second building was firing into the chain and lock on the ground outside his cottage and I saw the small puffs of sand and dust in the moonlight. I stopped the forklift and pushed the lever to the right of the dashboard upwards. The huge log rolled forward off the forks and thudded heavily on to the sandy ground. It came to rest three inches from the iron bars of the door effectively blocking any exit from the building. I turned the engine of the forklift off and walked back around the side of the building to look at the situation. I found the electrical circuit box that supplied the two buildings with power and with a flick of a switch the inside lights went out. The panicked shouting continued as I made my way around the building and walked towards the two fuel tanks.

  Hidden by the cover of the darkness I lifted the heavy nozzle and began pulling the thick hose from where it lay in the sand. I backed up towards the first building and the nearest window which I assumed was the bathroom. With my back to the wall I held the nozzle and squeezed it to check the flow of petrol. Within seconds a half a litre of fuel had gushed from the nozzle on to the sand below and the handle clicked in the locked open position. I clicked the handle again and the flow stopped. Good. I turned and put my right hand and the nozzle through the burglar bars of the small window and smashed the glass. Immediately there was more shouting from within and I quickly locked the handle into the flow position. I could clearly hear the liquid splashing on the tiled floor inside the building and with my back to the wall I fed more of the hose in. By the time the man inside had found his cellphone and turned on the torch there were at least three hundred litres of petrol on his floor. His rabid screaming began to tone down and there was a note of real fear in his voice.

  “Why?” he cried in English. “Why you do this man?”

  I stood panting with my back to the wall and listened to the petrol splashing on the tiles inside. You know why. When I was certain there was at least a thousand litres of the liquid covering the floors of the entire building I pulled the hose out and clicked the nozzle into the shut position. The voice of the man trapped inside had become shaky, almost whimpering and I was certain he was talking to the man in the next building on his cellphone. Feeling certain he would no longer risk using his firearm I left the hose and nozzle on the ground where I had been standing and walked up to the tanks to unravel more of the hose. After doing so I walked back to where the nozzle lay in the sand, picked it up and began dragging the hose towards the back windows of the second building. As I had done before I stood with my back to the wall and using the heavy nozzle, I put my hand between the heavy burglar bars and smashed the small bathroom window. Immediately there was loud shrieking from within followed by two gunshots. In the periphery of my vision I could see the man was shining a torch at the window from the inside. I clicked the nozzle into the open position and fed it through the smashed window. Feel free to use your gun now pal. Your decision. As I expected there was no further gun fire from the man inside. Instead there was a long low wail as he realized what was actually happening. At one stage the man stepped forward and pushed the gushing nozzle back through the window. It clattered and splashed petrol in the burglar bars to my left. I pulled the hose out quickly and clicked the nozzle to stop the flow. Turning to my right I smashed the larger window which I assumed was for the bedroom. I opened the nozzle to flow and fed the hose into the room. This time there was no splashing sound of petrol on tiles but rather a dull patter of liquid falling on to padded material. Maybe the bed? Fine by me. Realizing that throwing the nozzle out of the windows was not going to work, the man inside instead tried to stem the flow of fuel by slamming the adjacent doors closed. To be sure there would be enough to completely cover the interior floors, I stopped and changed windows once again until I was certain there were at least a thousand litres in the house.

  The man inside began crying and praying and I heard him throwing himself against the security door repeatedly. His attempts at escape were futile and soon enough he gave up.

  “Why sir?” he said mournfully. “Please stop.”

  “Go to Hell,” I said through gritted teeth.


  Satisfied I had done enough I pulled the hose from the window and leaving the nozzle open, I walked back towards the first house. The petrol left a thick dark stain in the sandy soil behind me as I walked. Being careful to make sure none of the fuel splashed on to my body I dragged the hose and nozzle to the space between the two buildings. I stood back and watched the flow of fuel as it gushed from the nozzle creating a wide pool with thick rivulets that spread forward towards the factory and left towards the wood piles. Next, I retrieved my bag from where I had left it. By then the river of petrol had reached the wall of logs nearby and was pooling beneath them. I took the old rifle from my shoulder and pushed it into a gap between the logs. No need for that any more, Green. I walked back towards the factory unit to have a look at the scene. By the time I arrived the river of petrol had reached the back doors and was beginning to run around the building to the left. Good. I hopped over the streaming liquid and made my way around the front of the second building. As I rounded the corner, I saw that the petrol had formed a stream that ran as far as the far wood pile on the left-hand side of the yard. By the time I walked back towards the factory the two Chinese men were both standing in the blocked doorways of their cottages. They watched me as I walked in the moonlight past them. The man in the building on the left held on to the bars of his security door and sobbed uncontrollably while the other attempted to reason with me.

  “No do this please!” he called desperately. “No do this Sir.”

  I ignored him completely and walked towards the wall of logs ahead of me. I had no way of telling but I was certain that at least five thousand litres of petrol had spread throughout the yard from where I stood and still it flowed in a narrow stream towards me near the wall of logs. I pulled the packet of sparklers from the bag and removed a single one. From my pocket I took the packet of cigarettes and lit one as I took a last look at the yard. Pray this works Green. I carefully pushed the sparkler through the body of the lit cigarette and twisted it in the air to make sure it was stuck fast. In the moonlight ahead I could clearly see the dark stream of petrol in the sand as it got closer and closer to where I stood. Hurry up Green. I squatted down on my haunches and pushed the wire end of the sparkler into the end of one of the giant logs between the bark and the inner wood. It stuck fast and to make sure I flicked the end of the sparkler.