Force Of Habit v5 (27 page)

They all laughed.

‘You’re turning into a right Bad Lieutenant, North.’

‘It’s good to see you Ray,’ he clasped the shoulder of the man next to him. ‘Tonto,’ he did the same to the man driving. ‘Where’s Girl?’

‘Back there. Don’t worry, he’ll be fine. You managed to sort them so it will be a picnic for him if they twig and start something. We thought it best he was handy just in case you needed a bit of help when you came out - and if you didn’t see him, that bunch sure as hell wont have.’

‘You knew I’d be coming then.’

‘We had a hunch that you would opt for adding ‘wanted for escaping from lawful custody and assaulting a number of security officer’s’ to your CV. It seemed preferable to the alternative.’

‘Yeah,’ said Tonto. ‘If you didn’t you’d have had a whole bunch of stiff cocks stabbing at your shit by teatime, for sure.’

THIRTY-FOUR

‘So, have you figured out who it is yet?’

They were all together. It had been a while. North, Tonto, Girl and Ray.

North took another drag. Held it. Sarah only mentioned the drink. His conscience was clear.

He shook his head.

‘You better stop pissing about,’ said Ray. ‘Harrington is going to have them shooting on sight after today,’ he took the joint. Took a toke.

‘Good for me that they’re still voting to walk the beat unarmed.’

‘The one’s he sends after you won’t be,’ Tonto took the spliff.

‘They’re probably at your place already,’ North said to Ray. ‘You will be the first place they come look for me – Harrington did his research.’

‘Good job I stepped out then,’ said Ray. ‘They’ll find me when I’m good and ready. You can stay here. It should give you a few days breathing space even if they dedicate a whole team to going through our books, searching for all our assets. It’s like three-dimensional sudoku in there, all the companies, holding companies, leases and sub-lets.’

‘You’re not going to be in any bother?’

‘Nah, that stuff we don’t keep records on,’ he smiled.

‘We’re practically totally legit these days anyhow,’ said Girl. He didn’t sound too chuffed about it.

‘We do enough to keep our hand in, it wouldn’t do to get rusty. You must have some Scooby who you’re after?’

‘I have a couple of names, but neither of them do it for me. They just don’t sit right.’

‘You could just be becoming a bad judge of character in your old age.’

‘That’ll be the day – and at least I’ve still got all my hair.’

‘Call that hair?’ said Girl, thick blonde locks down to his arse. With all the muscle and fake tan he looked like he had just stepped off Venice Beach.

‘Scanlan’s one.’

‘Arnie?’

‘See what I mean? But Arnie, the twat, is nobbing the daughter of a family who are all over this, being used and abused by whoever is running the show and Arnie is abusing the daughter – she’s fifteen.’

‘The Kindergarten Cop? We are talking about the same Arnie?’

‘I thought he was bent,’ said Tonto.

‘He obviously is, just not in the way you thought,’ said North.

‘A nonce. That I can believe.’

‘Who is the other one?’ said Ray.

‘Eddie George.’

Girl whistled. That about summed it up.

‘The cops and Mr Clean are the bad guys?’ said Ray. ‘Holy crap.’

‘Man, you are way up shit creek without a paddle and that’s one cruise you gotta pass on,’ said Tonto.

‘I agree,’ said Ray. ‘It seems unlikely that Arnie is the big fish you’re after, but there have to be other minnows swimming in the thin blue too, more than just Arnie.’

‘I’m working on it.’

‘Yeah? Well it’s going real well for you. This whole Sarah thing has twisted your melon, man. You let a bunch of toe-rags do you up like a kipper.’

North laughed. With Raymond Street and the boys you didn’t have to justify shit. They all knew that if he had killed Awayday Harris he wouldn’t have even been a suspect, never mind been captured for it.

Ray was dead right about Sarah too. She had twisted his melon every which way. Only time would sort that. He was getting there.

‘And I can’t believe you didn’t remember Awayday Harris. Some copper you are.’

‘I remember him.’ You couldn’t forget him. Back in Junior High he was always bunking off and everyone thought that he was a shedhead because he spent the days travelling the northern rail network using those cheap away day specials you could get back then. The school had plenty of train spotters on account of the line running by the playing field. But he had been a drug courier. ‘I just didn’t recognise him. I wouldn’t have pinned that guy for Awayday Harris no matter how long I stared at him, so thanks for the assistance. And all since.’

‘No worries.’

‘That dealer was ahead of his time, who would have suspected a little kid trafficking back then? How times have changed.’

‘We were no angels, but enough of the nostalgia. Right now you need to lay low, rest and re-energise so you can go back out fighting. You look like shit.’

‘You need to fight fire with fire,’ said Tonto. ‘Have some more shit.’ North took the freshly rolled joint and fired it up.

‘All we hear is that the Choirboys deal most of the streets round these parts. We keep well away from that racket. This stuff is home grown,’ Ray took the roll-up from North. ‘Grade A melon masher for personal consumption only.’

‘It’s like old times,’ said North.

‘It is now,’ Ray brought out North’s guitar. ‘It was the only thing in your place worth nicking.’

They jammed along, all out of synch. It was terrible. They all started laughing and descended into giggles. Their one hundred and eighty-eight combined years reduced to a mental age of five. For the first time since North had come home it felt good to be back.

THIRTY-FIVE

By the time he twigged it was too late. He was caught like a rat in a trap.
Stupid.
He pushed the thought away. Those were the thoughts that ensured you died in the trap. He kept on as he had been. At least he could keep them from realising he knew. For now.

At the bottom of the stairs he strolled into the open area that held the ticket machines and rows of turnstiles that barred the way until fed. As soon as he was out of their sightline he ran, vaulted the barrier and legged it down towards the tunnel wishing he was back in London, and not just because if he'd stayed in London he wouldn't be in this mess, in central London he would have had options. In the right station, one with several lines running through it, he could have disappeared within the maze of pedestrian tunnels that connected them. Here there were only two platforms so all he could hope for was a few extra yards. A sudden roar had him taking the steps two at a time and drawing exclamations and expletives from those he clattered on the way past. He followed the sound to his left to find an empty platform and the arse end of a train disappearing up the city bound tunnel. The board indicated another eight minutes until the next one. He turned back.

At the bottom of the escalator one of the people he had barged into came forward to challenge him but stopped dead when North looked at him. It wasn't a face you fucked with.

North carried on towards the other platform, glancing back up the stairwell. There were six of them. No one was saying dick back at them as they waded through, all hooded up. All in Choirboy colours.

How had he missed them outside? Had they got lucky? Somebody had to be getting all the luck because it sure as hell wasn't him. Had they been watching key areas across town? Had someone put them on to him? He had to get his act back together. He should have seen them earlier than he had. While he was still out in the open. It wasn't like they were hard to spot. These kids didn't believe in blending into the background. Their power was in standing out. Being highly visible. When you could see the constant threat you were way more likely to shut the fuck up when required, and to blab like your Aunty Iris when asked.

They had passed the halfway mark. North ducked onto the other platform. There were plenty of commuters. That meant it had been a while since the last train so one must be due. Two minutes, the board announced. He turned right and slipped into the crowd, trying to make himself small, keeping his head down. He moved as slow as he dared to create as little disturbance as possible. People filled his wake. He was lost to the gang when they piled in.

North's heart was hammering. All this shit couldn’t be good for him. He took control of his breathing. Got control of his mind. Readied himself. He daren’t risk a look back. Hopefully they'd split up and trawl the platform to either side of where North came in. He'd only have three to deal with at a time rather than all six at once. And he would have to do it quick. It would be no good to get past these young punks only to find a wall of blue waiting for him at the exit because security had dialled nine-nine-nine while watching it all unfold on a CCTV screen. He slipped his hand inside his jacket and his fingers closed around the rubber handle of the knife sheathed in a shoulder holster. He was already in it up to his eyeballs and he was about to sink even deeper. They would have knives. They carried knives to the cinema these days never mind on a manhunt. North wished he’d waited for Street to come back with a gun, but he’d agreed to rest up and Street was going to swing by with it the next day. But North had been too restless for sleep. Knackered as he was his brain had fried the off switch. He’d decided to press on.

There was a bit of a commotion behind him. They were close. The crowd ahead thinned out and then he was alone in that small piece of no mans land at the platforms end that offers no decent ground from which to position yourself for a lunge at a parting door and force your way into a stuffed carriage. It wasn't a door North would be lunging at. They were going beat the train in. North hit the wall and turned to face them.

A low rumble came from the tunnel up the other end. The air stirred. A whisper ran through the rails. The first of the gang pushed his way out of the crowd as the squeal of metal and a soaring roar announced the arrival of the next train out of the city. It thundered in already breaking, filling up the void. The commuters only had eyes for the train, jostling for position as three figures broke away from the mass. Each had a scarf tightly pulled across their nose and mouth. They stopped. North pulled the knife. The lead raised the bottom of his hooded fleece to reveal the stock of a pistol. His hand went for the grip.

Shit.

North turned and went down the ramp they used to walk people out of the tunnels in emergencies. Pain flashed through his left arm and shoulder and he was thrown into the tunnel wall, the train catching him as it pulled to a stop. He rebounded off the wall and went sprawling onto the track. The train screeched to a dead stop, inches from him. He raised an arm to shield his eyes from the glare of its headlights and winced at the resulting pain. He checked for a live rail before trying to move but these trains were attached to overhead wires. He groaned to his feet. They hadn’t started in after him – yet. He took off down the tunnel.

He'd been on the southbound platform so that meant the next stop was Gateshead. Gateshead was on the other side of the river. Choirboy central. They would already be making the call that would ensure him a warm reception. The tunnel bent to the left and he soon had to abandon his search for maintenance corridors, doors, ladders - anything that might lead him out of here. It was pitch black. A distant rumble caught his attention. He stood and listened. Peered back down the way he'd come. He couldn’t see shit. The rumble kept on coming, getting louder. The air began to move around him. Shapes began to form in the dark. The roar intensified and a pair of lights came into view. They got bigger, fast. North flattened himself against the wall and clung to a metal conduit fixed to the wall. His hair and clothes tried to leave his body as the carriages thundered past, inches from him. The noise was deafening.

Then all was still.

The roar faded. The lights shrank. North watched the train go. What the fuck was the driver thinking? North had connected with the windscreen, right in front of the drivers face, as he had jumped onto the track. He’d seen him run off up it. Did they get a tidy bunch of fully paid stress leave if they killed somebody fucking about on the rails? The fucker.

Noises from behind got him moving again. Not a train this time. It sounded like people. The gang had opted to pursue him after all. North took off again. A minute later he cleared a bend and could see the train up ahead, not just the lights but the actual train. It was no longer in the tunnel. It was outside. It must have gone out of the north bank to cross the river Tyne before going back into the ground on the other side of the bridge.

North came out of the tunnel like a train and had covered fifteen yards before he realised something was wrong. He pulled up. He could still see the train ahead of him. It hadn't disappeared into the south bank. It was no longer moving. It had stopped in the middle of the bridge. A figure appeared out of the side of it and dropped onto the track. Two more followed. North didn’t need three guesses as to who they were. He turned back. The other three came out of the tunnel behind him.

He was trapped.

He couldn’t see the one that had pulled the gun, tunnel side. He must have been in the train using it to coerce the driver. They couldn't all have guns, could they? No, only one had a gun. That’s why he got on the train.

Shit.

Too much thinking.

He committed.

He charged the tunnel. All three stood their ground. All reached into their clothing. North hoped he hadn’t made a bad call on the gun front. He kept going, letting out a battle cry to unnerve them. Each brought a blade up towards him. He steamed into the one on the right, parrying the lunge that came at him, pushing his attacker’s knife down and off to the side as he brought his own forehead hammering into the kid’s nose. The kid dropped like lead.

North rolled to the ground to avoid a lunge from his left. The next Choirboy came at him kicking. North raised a boot a foot off the deck and kept his leg straight. The kickers shin connected with North’s sole. He howled and North took his other leg out from under him. He lifted him off the deck and chokeslammed him into the third kid. Broken nose was getting back to his feet. North could hear the fast footfalls of the three from the train. He wasn’t going to make it back into the tunnel. He was going to be overrun. He changed direction as the sound of gunfire rang out. He ran for the edge of the bridge.