BlindFire (10 page)

  “Like I said
,
Neighborhood watch."

  "Look,
you can shoot him I don’t give a shit
.
Take what you want but I’m off."  He  picked  up  a  black  leather  suitcase  off  the table  and  bolted  out  the  back  door.

  Almost  immediately the
Englishman  returned  onl
y  this  time  both  his hands
wer
e on his  head and he  had
a  badly  cut  lip.

   "Ah I see you met my other friend then. This is
Doris
s
he lives at number three."   Danny
s
aid  as  Beth stepped  into  the  room  with  her  pistol  pointed  at  the Englishman. After tying up both
men Danny
questioned them.

  "What are your names?"

  "
Get lost
."  Said  the  Englishman and  then  noticed  Beth  fitting  a  silencer  to  her  pistol.

  "Look I’m getting very tired now."  She  said  and  walked  up  to  the German  then  placed  the  weapon  at  the  side  of  his  head.
“I hate drug dealers..!”

  "Right, I’ll give you till five and then she pulls the trigger."

  "You wouldn’t!"  Screamed the German and spat in Beths face.

  "
Oh
I would."

  "One...  Four...  Five, shoot him."

  "What about two and three?"  She asked.

  "Just taking a short cut.”

  "Ok."  Beth pulled the trigger.  Even  though  the  silencer  was  fitted the  bang  was  still  quite  loud.
“I hate drug dealers.” She repeated.

  The  mans  body  jerked  under  the  impact  and  discharged  the  left hand  side  of  his  face  over  the  wall  and  the  Englishman.

  The body was still moving
, twitching even with more than half of his brain missing
.
Danny glared at his trigger happy partner. “You weren’t meant to actually shoot him. We were just scaring him so that he’d answer some questions.”

  “Oh sorry.” She said and giggled.
  "I
think he’s still alive." 

 
"No that’s just his nerves.  Oh my God do you smell that?  I think he shit himself........  You’re next." She
said to the panicking Englishman and
forced the barrel up his nose.

  He
began to struggle and shouted at the top of his voice.  "Help....  Somebody help me!
You’re insane!
"

  "Be quiet!"  Danny
insisted  and  slapped
  him 
hard
on  the  side  of  his  head, sending  him  sprawling  across  the  room.

  "Please don’t kill me.  I’ll tell you anything you want to know, please?"

  "How  about  once  upon  a  time  long  long  ago there  was  a  man  c
alled Jack
...."

  "I’m a drug dealer, I was buying drugs."

  "I don’t believe you."  Danny
told the Englishman.  "
And I’m
running out of   time
and patience
."

  The man started to cry.  "I can’t,   I simply can’t."   He sobbed.

  Danny
got up and started to walk towards the door.  "Shoot him." He said to Beth over his shoulder.

  "No, I think it’s your turn.  I nearly puked the last time."

  "Go  and  wait  in  the  car  then,  I'll  be  out  in  a  minute." Up  until  now  he’d  been  fine  watching  a  drug  dealer  get  the  good  news, doing  it  himself  was  some thing  else. It’s  not  easy  to  kill  a  man  in  cold  blood.

  Danny
was determined to get the information he so badly needed. After  waiting  for  Beth  to  leave  the  room  he  turned
on  the  man  and  took aim. Slowly squeezing the trigger he fired a round into his shoulder.

  Th
e
Englishman
  screamed
in agony
  and  started  hyperventilating  as  soon  as  he  saw  the 
blood spewing out of the wound. He
knew that he didn’t have
much time, death was coming to him
.

"Lets start again, shall we?  Or maybe you want to finish it here and now
.  Where would you like
it,  in  the  mouth,  under  the chin is usually  pretty  good  or
  even  like  your  mate  there, fashionably in the side of your ugly
head
,
." He  poked  the  barrel  in  the  mans  left  eye.  "
But you know I really like it messy
."
Then h
e forced the barrel into the man
’
s crotch.

  "Please don’t kill me;   I have a wife and children."

  "
So did I!"  Danny
growled
and
slapped him across the face
.

  "My boss is Irish...  He tells me what to do."   He screamed in pain.

  "And?"

  "He comes over once a month on a fishing boat.  "The
Regina
....  It’s called the fucking
Regina
."

  "Where can I find it?"

  "
Calais
, it’s moored in
Calais
docks.
.! Please don’t kill me!
"

  "
Did you see how easy that was?
If you can find yourself a telep
hone and ring an ambulance
within the
next five minutes or so you might just
live."

  As  he  strode  toward  the  door  Beth  came  back  in  carrying  a  brief  case. “Haven’t you killed him yet?”

  “I was going to let this one
live.”

  She smiled softly and shook her head
. “Jus
t a big softy really aren’t you?
”
Then s
he raised the gun
, aimed
and pulled the trigger. 

***

"Wakey wakey rise and shine, we’re back
."  She whispered in Danny’s ear,
who had slept most of the journey. "Race you
to the bath!
"

  He stirred. "What already...?"

  "Yes
,
come on."  She replied and left the car, taking with her the briefcase full of money which she h
ad taken from the Englishman
at the house.

  Danny
followed still half asleep. "What's in there?"

  "About five hundred thousand in used notes." She whispered.

 
suddenly wide awake.
"What?" He cried incredulously

  "The
IRA just paid for our little adventure.”

***

  "Sir....  Sir."  The voice echoed along the narrow dark corridor.

  Major Rothschild turned
.
"What is it now?"   He snapped. "Am I never to leave this damned office on the first attempt, without something holding me back?"

  "Sir."  The  young  Officer  skidded  to  a  halt  and  took  a  deep  breath. "We’ve just received a report from Comcen."   He took another deep breath.  "Two  known  players  both  dealers,  one  German one  English  have  been  found  dead  in  Roermond."

  "Roermond?"

  "Yes  Sir,  the  house  we've  been  watching  on  and  off  for  the  last few  years."

  "Fine, the German Police can deal with it."  He muttered and strode off.

  "Sir,  they  were  both  killed  by  the  same  high  velocity  bullets  which killed  those  two  Arabs  last  year  in  Gibraltar."

  Suddenly the Major became interested. "Has anyone claimed responsibility yet?"  He inquired.

  "No   Sir."

  "I see."

  "There is one other thing Sir."

  "And what’s that?"

  "Well,  if  my  memory  serves  me  correctly,  didn't a couple of would be  thieves  stumble  across  an  IRA  Active  service  unit  in  that  house?"

  "Well that’s what our inside man says."

  "No bodies were ever found....  Right?"

  "Right...  Have you been reading the old files?"

  "Yes Sir."  The Officer smiled.  "It makes for a good read."

  "You  would  be  well  advised  to  stay  clear  of old files, they could give youngsters  like  yourself nightmares."

  Another Freshman with visions of grandeur thought the Major as he once more went back to work.  Immediately upon entering his office he picked up the telephone.

  "Hello  Viv,  It's  me  fetch  me  the  Roermond  file  please....  Thanks.
..! And a cup of tea oh and some of those biscuits I like.
"

  Less  then  five  minutes  after  he  had  put  the  phone  down  there  was an  almost  inaudible  tap  on  the  door.

  "Enter."

  The door swung open and in walked Vivien.  A small round woman in her fifties.

  "Here’s your file John."   She said and passed him a green folder.
Then placed a mug of tea and a packet of
Jaffa
cakes on the table.

  "You’re doing overtime tonight then."  He  asked  knowing  full well  of  her  affair  with  the  Colonel.

  "Actually I was just about to go home."   She said and blushed.

  As  she  left  the  Major  took  a  painful  look  at  her  large  behind  and
try as he might
couldn't  for  one  second  imagine  the  Colonel  having  Sex  with  this beached  whale.

  She said goodnight and closed the
door.

  After  taking a sip of the red hot liquid,
  he  leaned  back  in  his  chair  and  tried  to  remember  the  house  in  Roermond  and the  vast amounts of blood which had been found on everything, on the walls, on the carpets and even on the ceiling. Amongst all the blood and sweat  and  particles  of  human  flesh  which  had  been found, male semen  dominated  the  whole  room.  An unknown female had been raped by at least three men.

  Questions  nagged  at  his  brain,  like  if  the  woman  was  aliv
e  when they  dumped  her  the way the  informant  claimed
.  Then  where  was  she and  why  had  she  not  gone  to  the  Police?  If she was murdered then where was the body?  It's  not  in  the  nature  of  the  beast  to  bury  the dead.

  He  picked  up  his  silver  pen  and  left  a  note  instructing  Viv  to replace  the file in the safe and then added on the bottom 'Merry Christmas'.  Questions, questions they could all wait until the morning. He  had   just  switched  off  the  lights  and  was  about  to  leave the office  when  the  phone  rang.

  "You must be joking."   He said to the phone and left.  This time he wouldn’t stop for anything.  He  would  run  the  gauntlet  of  offices,  sneak  past  reception  and  sprint  to  his  car  and the  comfort  of  his  own  bed.

  The  HQ  car park  was  a  very  classy  affair  for  the  British  Army. Neat lines, smooth tarmac, floodlights and even the occasional tree dotted about the place. The Major almost ran to his car. Tonight would  be  different,  tonight  he  most  certainly  would  not  work.  As  he  approached  his  car  he  already  had  his  keys  in  his  hand and  was  just  about  to put  them  in  the  lock   when he  felt  the  massive  hand  on  his  neck.  His reaction was spontaneous, bending forward he grabbed the hand.  The  attackers  own  momentum  carried  him forward  slamming  him  into  the  car.  At  the  same  moment  the  Major was  on  top  of  him  with  a  flick  knife  at  the  assailants  throat.

  The face smiled.   “Hi, Gunter Nolte at your service." 

  "You."  Snarled the Major

  "That was a very effective move."

  "What do you want?"

  "I have some thing to show you.”
He said and grinned.

  They disentangled themselves and stood up. “Back to the office then.”

Once  there  Gunter  reached  into  his  pocket  and  pulled  out  a  small  plastic  bag, the  type  used  for  evidence. He thrust it into the Majors hand. “Take a look at that
beauty
.”

   "It’s impressive i
sn’t it?"  Observed Gunter.  "My people tell me that the bullet that came out of that shell
could drop an Elephant at six hundred
meters."

  The Major placed the brass casing
back in the plastic bag.  "It’s very badly made though.  It could be lethal to the firer."

  "Yes, that has
also
been noted in the report."