What a Country

by Paul Kirby

  Badini tried to lunge forward toward the gunmen, but he was cut down by a volley of shots fired by both Dell and Richards as they moved around in silence, hitting their targets in exactly the places they’d been trained to hit. The power of the gunshots blew Badini backward and he flew into chairs just behind him. Dasti had been killed with the first bullet, but Richards pumped three more into his chest, just to make sure, Dell and Funnel did the same to Badini.

  Cairo got a single shot right between the eyes and slumped back into her chair. She also received more shots to the chest for good measure. The back of her head had also been blown away, her brains splattered up the closed shutter doors, steam rising from her demolished skull.

  This left The Ayatollah. He hadn’t been shot at yet, but the naked fear was clear for all to see. He tried in vain to reach for one of the guns tucked away on a shelf behind him, but it was no good. The three assassins rounded on him like a pack of hungry wolves with a taste for blood. They’d agreed that if possible, they’d leave him last.

  “Don’t you fuckin’ dare!” snarled Dell as all three of them had their guns trained on him.

  He froze, powerless. With three guns pointing at him, he promptly messed himself. He’d been caught and for him the chase was over. This was the last mission he was ever going to take part in. The smell of gun smoke filled the air as The Ayatollah stared helplessly down the barrels of three guns. Who would deliver the coup de grace? As it happened, all three opened up on him at pretty much the same time. The only one who bothered to waste any words on this despicable man was Richards. “Die, you fuckin’ dog!” he eloquently commanded.

  The Ayatollah died in a non-heroic fashion in a dirty old lockup in West London, left in a bloody crumpled heap on an oily concrete floor in his own excrement. As all three assassins had emptied their weapons into various parts of his body, he was guaranteed a quick passage to the seventy-five virgins, if they would have him.

  “Let’s get the fuck out of here,” said Dell as he turned and made his way to the exit. No one bothered to look back at the damage they’d done. Mission accomplished. It was time to meet up with Butler and the others at the arranged venue. They walked purposely to the car without breaking into a trot and then Richards drove away in an orderly manner. They’d been in and out in less than two minutes and in that time had eradicated an entire terror cell.

  This operation had been successful and could pave the way for others like it, but it couldn’t be celebrated. It had to remain a top secret mission with only those directly involved allowed to know about it, so a smokescreen was going to have to be created. The public, or anyone else for that matter, was never to get wind of what happened on November 9, 2018.

  Terry broke the silence as they made their way through the Friday afternoon traffic. “Well, they certainly thought I was Gerry, didn’t they?”

  “Yeah, they did. I can’t believe we didn’t face any resistance,” said Richards with real surprise in his voice.

  “Well, that was always the plan. Catch them unawares—the element of surprise. But, boys, I have a horrible feeling that was the easy part of our mission. This next bit is going to be the hard bit. You watch,” said Dell. He felt pretty sure he could trust his sixth sense in this case.

  Gerry Funnel meanwhile was making his way on foot to the fateful unit. He was running late after the incident with the law, so he decided to give his friends a call to let them know the situation. He first rang Badini’s phone but got no answer. That wasn’t unusual, so he tried Dasti’s number and he didn’t answer either. This didn’t worry Gerry too much as he thought they were both probably busy. It had happened before. Anyway, he’d be there in about ten minutes or so, so it wouldn’t be an issue. By the time Gerry got to the unit, he was almost half an hour late. As he approached, he saw the Astra parked in front of the doors, but no sign of anyone, so he knocked on the door a couple of times. Again, no answer. They’d arranged a meeting and now it seemed no one was here. Gerry wasn’t very happy. He rang both phones again. He could hear them ringing in the workshop but no one was answering. Odd, he thought. He knocked on the door to the reception area once more before he tried the door handle. It was unlocked, which was again strange as they had never left the unit unlocked, even if they were inside. Gerry took the liberty of letting himself in. The keys to the Astra were on the small reception desk. That was the first thing he noticed as he headed to the door that led into the main workshop, which.

  Gerry froze. He stopped as though he’d just walked into a brick wall. Nothing on this planet could have prepared him for the scene laid out in front of him. He’d just come face to face with a St. Valentine’s Day massacre here in West London on an ordinary Friday afternoon in November. This was pure carnage. Four slaughtered bodies strewn all over the place. The smell of blood and death was mixed with the smell of cordite and shit.

  Gerry glanced around the room in total and utter disbelief. He struggled to take in what he was looking at and promptly threw up. He couldn’t stop it, it just kept coming. This was one of the most sickening sights anyone could witness. But the scene this lot were plotting in a couple of days would have been a lot worse. He wiped his mouth as he panicked. As he started to back himself out of the door, he happened to look down at the workbench to his left and saw a white envelope sitting there with a few spots of blood on it. Gerry put his hand out and grabbed it, as he knew it contained money and at the end of the day, it was this bit of money he’d gone there for in the first place.

  He’d never imagined in his wildest dreams that he’d be confronted with such a sight. He also didn’t know he was a key but minor player in this act, a bit part performer in a very big West End show. But no one could have worked out the significance of their roles in this performance other than Joey Dell, and he’d already summed up the whole situation. He’d learned from previous mistakes and had never been convicted for murder although he was a gun for hire.

  Gerry scurried away with a couple of grand in his pocket and also the goods, but he was now damaged for life. What he’d seen was unbelievable and was never ever going to be erased from his mind. Blood, guts, and human tissue spread everywhere was just too much for Gerry. He ran out of the unit and as he had no car, he grabbed the keys for the Astra parked out the front. What was a man supposed to do now? What was he supposed to think after being confronted with that?

  Chapter 41

  Big Burt finished up work and went to the Country for a drink. He noticed the place was unusually quiet. He knew something was happening, but didn’t know what exactly. But knowing Dell as he did, he knew it was going to be complicated. He was extremely worried about his mate. He knew he was up for pretty much anything if the money was right, but maybe this was one step too far.

  He’d warned him about Butler, not that he needed a warning in the first place. He was only doing what he felt was his duty. Dell was no mug. He knew what he would and wouldn’t do and no matter what anyone else said, he’d always do what he felt like doing. Although he did respect Big Burt’s opinion.

  Butler waited for his chosen few to return. When they turned up it was with the job done!

  Gerry was in a different position. He had to think fast, something he didn’t have the capacity for, although he had had the foresight to take the money and the keys to get himself away from the nightmare scene. Under the circumstances, Gerry had done well. If he’d known his twin brother was party to what he’d seen, and if he’d known he was the doppelgänger that was his twin brother, he might have felt differently about the situation, but that was very doubtful indeed.

  He got in the Astra and got out of there as quickly as possible. He’d got two grand in cash and two grand worth of crack. That was good enough for him as he made his getaway from the crime scene. He of course had no way of knowing the car was a ticking time bomb. Not wasting any time, he booted it away from the unit and to a place where he could gather his thoughts and
plan his next move. This was a serious situation and he needed to think it out.

  He was understandably shaken. He still felt physically sick by what he’d seen, his mind flashing back to the young woman in the chair with a bullet hole in her forehead. She looked so peaceful. But the worst sight of all was her associate Dasti with half of his head blown off. Who could have done such a thing?

  This whole scenario would effect Gerry for the rest of his life and he would never be the same again. He made his way out of the industrial estate in a blind panic, unable to think straight and with the vision of death firmly imprinted on his mind. He made his way on to the A40 and headed out of London to a place he remembered he used to go fishing with some mates a few years ago. He remembered it being just outside West Drayton and he was desperately trying to remember the way.

  In the boot of the car was a great amount of explosives that could be detonated by pressing the stereo ON/OFF button, or by a mobile phone, which had fortunately been left behind at the crime scene. So the only way this car could blow up would be if Gerry inadvertently pressed the detonator switch as he moved through the slow moving traffic that was now building due to school closing time. In fact he’d only just realised the radio was on. His head was so scrambled he hadn’t heard it.

  He was desperate to find the fishing spot that had a nice parking area surrounded by trees with the canal on one side and the River Colne on the other, but the school traffic was holding him up. He became more and more distressed and he found himself checking the rearview mirror every two minutes. He was sweating like a Durley on a rape charge.

  Just as he was beginning to make a bit of progress, out stepped a lollypop lady outside an infant school, which stopped Gerry in his tracks. She gave him a dirty look, suggesting he slow down in the built-up area by a school. Gerry waited impatiently as queues of school kids with their mums and dads spilled onto the road. Gerry could see he was going to be a while and started to change channels on the car radio very aggressively. He was not happy. He was turning the volume up and down, then tapping the steering wheel as he watched the constant flow of people passing in front of him and there didn’t look to be any end to it either. He couldn’t have come at a worse time.

  “Come on, come on. Hurry up,” he shouted in frustration, banging on the steering wheel. He continued channel hopping and played with the volume. “Come on, will ya!” he said as he sat there in his bomb. Finally, the lollypop lady, seeing the aggravated look on Gerry’s face, decided to stop the flow of kids crossing the road and let the traffic that was starting to build pass through, much to Gerry’s relief. He put his foot down and headed for the fisheries to try and get his head together.

  Eventually, after what seemed a lifetime, he reached his destination and instantly panic was replaced by calm as he inhaled the smoke of the very latest super skunk weed. He was parked well out of harm’s way by the canal, puffing away like a steam train as the painful memory of that afternoon’s horrific sights were replaced by beautiful mellow thoughts of peace and tranquility. He lay back in the car seat and relaxed as he enjoyed this new calmness. He listened to Smooth FM on the radio. But as he tried to cope with the day’s stress, he was starkly brought back to reality by a tap on the window. Peering at him was a dirty, scruffy-looking old man who, when Gerry opened his window, appeared to be drunk and stank of stale alcohol and many other things nasty. He didn’t mean any harm, as Gerry could see. Gerry was in fact happy he had been brought out of his drug stupor.

  Gerry let his window down to see what the poor old chap wanted. Unable to understand his drunken speech, Gerry asked him to repeat what he’d just said. The man only wanted a cigarette, but Gerry was unable to hear him properly. He pressed the OFF button on the radio to get a better listen. Boom! The homeless man was no longer homeless and all of Gerry’s problems disappeared in an instant. The pair of them were scattered into millions of pieces, destined only for crows, foxes, and rats.

  So the DSTC had finally managed to score a couple of strikes, although it wouldn’t have been the sort of score they would have been happy with, but if Gerry had pressed the button earlier, things would have been a hell of a lot worse. When Gerry exited the planet, he’d probably done himself a favour because for one, he’d have been mentally damaged by what he’d seen, and two, Butler had planned to set him up for the murder of the four would-be terrorists, claiming he was supplying them with drugs to fund the operation. Then he found out what they were up to and he was so incensed he killed them in a fit of rage. This would be supported by surveillance pictures of him meeting two members in the pub taken by the two undercover lovers and with guns and ammunition planted in his car, not to mention his fingerprints being at the scene of the crime.

  Butler’s scheme was already falling apart. Another thing he hadn’t bargained on was the local police being called, as someone had heard what they thought were gunshots. Now they were swarming all over the place and someone had also contacted the media, obviously for financial gain, and they were all over it too. This didn’t please Tommy Butler, but he was over the moon with his trio when they turned up at the rendezvous as arranged and started to reveal details of the assassination.

  Butler had been starting to get a little bit worried when the boys had taken so long to arrive. That was because Dell had gotten Richards to pull over, as he thought he should explain everything to the other two, just in case his hunch was right. Dell always trusted his sixth sense and wanted to prepare the others because he had a plan. He didn’t want to say anything before because he didn’t want to put them off in any way.

  Another reason for Butler’s momentary panic was he’d puffed Dell’s firm up so much. It was, after all, he who had put them forward for this covert operation in the first place and he certainly didn’t want to end up with any egg on his face that might jeopardise his future in the Force. When Butler saw them pull into the warehouse, he couldn’t hide his happiness and he started to feel a great sense of pride. His boys had returned safe and sound and not a blemish on any of them.

  Dell was most surprised to see just the two officers standing there. He actually expected more, but then he was pretty more were on their way. The three men stepped out of the car, which had been parked next to Richard’s vehicle. Dell, wearing his bag over his shoulder, told Richards to check the boot of his car to make sure the cash was still there, as a beaming Butler asked how it went.

  “Good,” replied Dell cagily.

  “Good! Hand the guns over please, boys, then you can tell me all about it.”

  Dell turned to Funnel and motioned with his head for him to do as Butler said. Richards took his head out of the boot of the car and shouted over, “It’s still there, Joe.”

  “Good,” he replied. “Now, what do you wanna know then, Tom?” he asked.

  “What happened, of course,” said Butler.

  “What happened was exactly what you asked for. Oh yeah, and we left the fella with the funny name for last, just to make him suffer a bit. Know what I mean?”

  “Good boys. I knew you’d pull it off,” said Butler, getting anxious again.

  “Yeah, and he squeaked and squealed and made funny noises before we even put one in him. He made sounds like that mate of yours Durley used to make when he was in the pub.”

  As he was explaining what happened, a vehicle sped into the warehouse with lights on full, followed by a minibus-type motor with blacked-out windows, all with lights on full, temporarily blinding everyone for a moment. The cavalry had arrived as expected. Dell and Co. hadn’t spotted the van parked among other vehicles in another warehouse car park, hidden out of view. But this was something more like what Dell had expected in the first place. Although they had been physically disarmed, he felt that mentally he was fully armed and had told Richards and Fennel such earlier.

  Butler looked at the entourage that had now invaded the place and regret and embarrassment embraced him like a po
ison. Although he’d gone along with the plan from the off, he now felt so proud of his team he wanted the ground to open up and swallow him. The look on his face was one of deep regret. Why hadn’t he tipped them off toward the end? Butler couldn’t say, but he sincerely hoped they’d walk away from this situation alive.

  But he and everyone else had overlooked the cunning of Dell, the very cunning and foresight that made him who and what he was. He didn’t need a tipoff from Tommy Butler. He’d already thought the whole thing out himself. He’d already positions himself right in between Butler and Wilson for safekeeping. Dell looked at the SWAT team and said to Butler, “Oh yeah. So what do they fuckin’ want?”

  “I, I don’t know, Joe.”

  “Not much, you fuckin’ don’t. You set us up, you dirty cunt,” spat Dell.

  “No, no I didn’t, Joe. You got it wrong.”

  “Yeah, I did, didn’t I? You must think I’m some sort of idiot. You’d better call that lot off, mate. ‘Cause I got somethin’ here you all might wanna take a look at,” said Dell as he and his boys now faced a potential firing squad.

  Butler had set them up, but he now found himself between a rock and a hard place. His feelings were very much divided and he knew he should never have tried to pit his wits against Dell. He never failed to surprise and today was not going to be any different.

  They faced too many guns to count, but Dell’s nerve held firm, even if Richards and Funnel’s flapped a bit. Could Dell save them? They surely hoped so as they’d been so loyal and put their trust in him. After all, it was Dell that had gotten them in this position in the first place, although it hadn’t take too much arm-twisting to be honest. If Big Burt could see the scene here now and how cool and calm his mate Dell was, he’d place every penny on his old mate walking away unscathed.