To Fight For (30 page)

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Authors: Phillip Hunter

BOOK: To Fight For
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‘What's the point of all this?' Bradley said.

I turned my gaze back to him. I watched his eyes as he began to understand what I was doing.

‘The point is: how did Paget suddenly know the DVD was valuable?'

Compton didn't say anything for a moment. I think it wasn't a question he'd ever asked himself. He looked away, towards the bodies on the ground.

‘How?' he said finally.

I kept my eyes on Bradley's. He knew what was coming. His jaw clenched.

‘There's only one way it works out: one of you told Paget what the DVD was worth.'

‘What?' Compton said.

‘Bollocks,' Bradley said.

‘Why would one of them do that?' Hayward said.

‘Because one of them is working for the British Security Service, and the other is working for the man in the DVD. That one tried to make a deal with Paget, maybe tried to buy the film back. Paget wasn't interested, though. Instead, when he knew Cole was after him, he went to Dunham; the only one he thought could give him protection. And he told Dunham what the DVD was worth, and why.'

Bradley tossed his smoke. I think he knew he was walking into death.

They stood still, as if they were in a play, each in a role, each waiting for his cue. The air got staler, colder, deader.

Compton was looking at the ground, his brow creased, his mouth shut tightly.

Hayward watched him, then Bradley. He didn't know what was happening.

So we all stood there, waiting for something to happen.

Then Bradley twitched. I went for my gun, but Hayward was quicker.

‘Careful,' he said, holding the .32 semi at hip height. He had the gun pointed at me. I had to hand it to him; he'd unbuttoned his jacket and got the gun out without me noticing.

I let it go, pulled my hand slowly from my jacket pocket, let it drop by my side. The wound was cold now. Blood had soaked through everything and saturated it.

They were all watching me. Compton saw my blood dripping onto the floor. His face cleared a bit, like he knew I didn't have enough strength left to do anything.

Bradley had his head tilted a bit forward so that he was looking up at me with narrow eyes. He had his tongue in his cheek and moved it, as if he was weighing up whether to kill me. That's probably what he was thinking. He'd always wanted to kill me. I knew that now.

Compton's gaze was more sure of itself. I was just a lump to him. I was muscle, but not much else – no brain, anyway.

But then his eyes narrowed and he was thinking about what I'd said and maybe thinking I wasn't so fucking dumb after all.

Hayward's look was hard, sure, but it was serious, professional. To him, I was a threat. I was the enemy, and dangerous too. He gave me credit, which was why he was first to his gun. But there was no hatred, no personal feelings at all. I might have been a rabid dog that had to be shot. That was fine.

Bradley took his gun out slowly. There was murder in his face.

Then Compton turned to him. He said, ‘He's right. Someone told Paget, and it wasn't me.'

Bradley didn't move for a moment. He smiled, shook his head. Then he swung round, his gun aimed at Compton. Hayward saw it, swung round too, bringing his gun up so that it was pointing at Bradley's chest.

‘Don't,' Hayward said.

Compton stared at Bradley.

‘Cunt,' Compton said.

‘What the fuck?' Hayward said.

Everyone was his enemy.

‘Take it easy, Del,' Bradley said to him.

‘Take it easy? Fuck off,' Hayward said. ‘Ten minutes ago I had two colleagues, two friends. I had a job and a boss. I was a fucking copper. What the fuck have you done?'

While Hayward was losing his bottle, Bradley was working out what to do, who to kill first. I could see it, and so could Compton. Hayward wiped sweat from his forehead.

Everything stopped again, everyone waiting for every-one else.

Then Bradley glanced at me. He'd made his decision and I knew he was going to kill me. Hayward locked his hammer back, Compton reached for his own piece. There would be blood, we all knew that. I steadied myself, tried to figure out what I could do. I couldn't think of anything.

Then the door burst open. We swung round as one. Eddie walked in, flanked by three men, all armed. The men fanned out, guns up, pointed at all of us.

Eddie stood in the middle of them, his hands empty. He would be armed too – he was always armed – but for now he kept his gun in his shoulder holster. For now he was playing it cool, but I knew he was worried, maybe even scared. He would've clocked the bodies on the floor, but he made a point of ignoring them. That's how worried he was.

Bradley's gun wavered, Hayward's piece was pointed at Eddie who glanced at it, then at Compton, then at me.

‘Joe?' Eddie said. ‘What's going on?'

‘You took your time.'

‘That sounds like you were expecting me.'

‘I was.'

That amused glint came into his eyes. He nodded. He smiled, but it was an effort. I liked that, and he could see that I did. He was so fucking clever, and I'd used his cleverness against him. He must've hated me then more than he'd ever hated anything.

‘Browne's phone,' he said. ‘You found out it was bugged. You knew if you called him, we'd hear.'

I said, ‘Yeah. That was a neat thing with Buck.'

‘I thought so.'

He wandered over to the bodies, glanced at them. Compton had moved back.

‘So you got him,' Eddie said to me. ‘Buck. You got him. I kinda thought you might.'

‘Yeah. I got him.'

I nodded towards Compton and Bradley and Hayward.

‘I think you know this lot,' I said to Eddie.

‘What makes you say that?'

‘I'll come to that,' I said.

‘Okay, Joe,' Eddie said, still looking like it was all fun for everyone, even if he was too fucking cool to join in with it.

I turned to Compton.

‘See, Dunham wants the DVD too. He and Eddie here thought they'd get it from Glazer.'

‘Glazer?' Eddie said.

‘Yeah, Eddie. He's the copper your men kidnapped,' I said. ‘Remember? The one you set Buck on. But you've all been chasing Glazer for nothing.'

‘What are you talking about?' Compton said.

‘You thought the same as me, Compton. We thought that Brenda must've sent him a copy of the film as evidence, and that Glazer had then grassed her up to Marriot.'

I turned to Eddie.

‘And you and Dunham thought the same thing, but only because I told you. So, we all went after Glazer. I wanted him because he'd got Brenda killed. The rest of you because you thought he had a copy of the DVD. But he didn't have one. He never did.'

‘What makes you think that?' Eddie said.

‘Because he told me.'

‘And you believed him?'

‘He told me he'd grassed Brenda up to Marriot. If he admitted that, why wouldn't he admit to having the DVD? Besides, Buck had been working on him long enough, so, if he'd had the DVD, he would've said so.'

‘So what does that mean, Joe?'

‘It means, as far as you lot knew, there were three copies: Paget's, Glazer's and mine.'

‘Yours?' Compton said.

‘Yeah. I had a copy that Brenda left to me. I only found it a couple of weeks ago.'

‘Why the fuck didn't you tell us?'

‘I'm telling you now, Compton.'

‘He wants to deal,' Bradley said.

‘No he doesn't,' Eddie said, looking at me.

‘He's right,' I said. ‘I don't want to deal. I want to kill you all.'

‘You're an idiot,' Compton said. ‘You give us that DVD, you can name your price – immunity, money, even.'

He said some more, but I wasn't listening. I was looking at Eddie, who was looking at me. I think he knew he'd fucked up. I think part of him was glad. He'd hated what Dunham was doing, and he'd hated that Dunham's wife hated him for doing it.

‘You said to me I wasn't big enough to get him,' I said to Eddie, ‘the man on the DVD. Remember?'

‘I remember. I was right. You're not.'

‘Yeah,' I said. ‘You were right. I'm not big enough.'

Compton's lips curled upward. He seemed happy that I'd seen reason. But Eddie – well, the glint had long gone from his eyes.

‘What the fuck have you done, Joe?'

‘I gave the DVD to someone who is big enough. I gave it to Cole.'

Compton's face had gone as grey as the rest of him.

‘You dumb cunt.'

His voice was cold and clean, but there was fear in there. I didn't care about him, though – not right then. I was watching Eddie.

‘What do you think Cole will do?' I said. ‘I've burned you, Eddie. I've burned the whole fucking lot of you.'

Eddie nodded.

‘Yes, you have. Well done.'

Then I turned to Compton. His gun was in his hand, by his side. He was waiting to use it, but he was keeping his options open. Bradley, me … so much choice.

‘There's something else, Compton,' I said. ‘I told Browne I was meeting you. Eddie heard that because he had Browne's place wired. Why do you think he's come with three men?'

Compton looked from me to Eddie, then back to me. He said, ‘I … uh …'

‘He's here to kill you, Compton. Eddie's here to kill you.'

Hayward's gun had been back on Bradley, now it moved again to Eddie.

Eddie smiled.

‘Why would I do that, Joe?'

‘Because that DVD was valuable, and you had to get rid of the opposition, anyone who might want it or have it or even know about it.'

I watched as the men in that room glanced at each other, and at me. Most of them wanted me dead, I knew that. And I knew too that, soon, I probably would be, and I didn't much care. But, whatever they felt about me, I was no longer the great danger. Now, each of them was more scared of the others, of each other.

And that's what I'd been counting on. That was what I wanted. Hell was let loose; I'd let it loose, and it didn't matter a fucking thing to me. Let them destroy each other, let them tear each other apart, let them bleed.

I thought Hayward would be the first to lose it. He was panicking so much he didn't even keep his aim steady. Instead, his gun went from one person to another. Then, Bradley knew he was fucked unless he killed Compton and Hayward and me, so it might've been him. But Eddie's men were starting to get the wild look in their eyes. They probably knew less than Hayward, but they couldn't have reckoned on a head to head with the law so they were scared, wondering what their boss had got them into, wondering how they could get out alive.

Eddie seemed cool about it all, but his eyes were narrow, looking from one man to the next. His hand flexed.

I had them all, all the ones who'd hurt Brenda or profited from her death. With the DVD in Cole's hands, with his promise of revenge on the man, whoever he was, I finally had them all.

Eddie looked at me. That glint came back into his eyes. He said, ‘Fuck, Joe.'

He went for his gun.

‘Don't,' Compton said quietly.

I didn't know who he was talking to. Anyway, it was too late.

I don't know who fired first. Maybe it was Bradley; he'd been itching to kill everyone. Maybe he decided to try that. Or maybe it was Hayward; the only real copper there, but now useless, not knowing what he was doing. Maybe it was one of Eddie's boys who were all trigger happy. Maybe it was me.

I saw Bradley swing his gun towards me. And then he took a half dozen rounds, mostly in his face. I think Compton was one of the ones who shot him. Hayward was firing wild. He even shot Buck, who'd been dead an hour. Buck's head blew apart.

I tried my best to kill them, but I could only manage to lift my gun and empty the magazine at the shimmering shadows before me. I might've hit something.

The large room had become small, none of us could hide from the onslaught, from the furious firestorm. The sound was deafening and the shouts and screams were dulled out by the thunder. There were ricochets, concrete chipping, plaster bursting. A couple of rounds punched into the floor at my feet and bounced off somewhere. Someone took a light out, but I think that was a dying shot, the man firing on his way down.

I felt the air move with rounds coming at me. I heard the buzzing and found myself back on that mount, ducking away from Argentinean fire.

Two of Eddie's men got hit. I don't know who shot them. They died, there and then. Eddie was hit and fell, but he managed to stand again and lift his gun and fire at Compton who fired back, and at me.

Then it was all over, and the sound echoed away and left roaring silence and smoke. I felt blood trickle from the cut.

Hayward stared at me, his dark face almost white. He dropped his gun and turned and walked out, his shoulders tight, his arms straight by his sides.

Eddie managed to stagger, doubled over, to the door with his other man helping him.

Compton was still standing, but his face had gone white and he was clutching his stomach. The room span around me, the noise still bashing my ears. I fell to one knee. Compton fell to both knees.

‘Madness,' he said, when he was able to speak. ‘This was madness. Why? Why did you do it?'

I saw him swirl. I saw him try to lift his gun. I heard the words. I saw the room swim around me.

‘Because you killed her,' I said.

‘No. No.'

‘All of you killed her.'

‘No. Not me.'

‘You knew she was trying to get evidence against Marriot. You knew she'd pay for that and you didn't give a fuck. You could've helped her, but you didn't, and she died.'

He looked at me and then at the blood in his hand.

I got up, moved one foot in front of the other. I stepped in the blood of a half-dozen men and left five bodies behind me, and Compton, bleeding from the gut.

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