‘Stop. We’re ain’t getting involved in that bollocks. I told you before’.
‘But Charlie, listen. This geezer. Omar, his name is, I met him a few days ago, and -’.
‘You what? For fuck’s sake. We agreed on this’.
‘Wait, a second. Just hear me out. He’s got bleedin’ warehouses full of the stuff. His partners over here got nabbed a few months back. Since then, he couldn’t move a thing. He said he’d sell it to us for a fraction of the going price -’.
‘No,’ said Charlie.
‘But Charlie -’.
Charlie reached out and grabbed Mike by the collar and thrust him into the wall. ‘I fuckin’ told you, no’.
Mike shifted his balance, put a leg behind one of Charlie’s and pushed him in the throat. In one swift movement, Charlie fell back towards the linoleum floor, but he was still holding onto Mike’s shirt. His friend fell on top of him, at which point the pair started grappling. Mike clambered on top of Charlie and was about to punch him, but found Eddie’s powerful arms around his neck.
‘Calm the fuck down,’ said Eddie. He had Mike in a neck lock.
‘All right, all fuckin’ right. Let go of me,’ Mike shouted. Eddie looked at his brother who sat on the floor six feet away, with one hand on his stomach.
‘S’alright, Eddie. Let him go’.
Eddie released Mike from his grip and stood back. Mike rubbed his throat.
Charlie forced himself up from the floor and walked over to Mike. ‘You can’t get us involved in that shit, mate. If you do, you’ll risk everything we have, you know that. We gotta be squeaky fucking clean. You promised me, Mikey. You promised us all’. He held his hand out.
Mike grabbed it and pulled himself to his feet. ‘I’m sorry, Charlie,’ he said. He took a handkerchief out of his pocket and dabbed at his lip. It was bleeding. ‘You’re right. It’s just that they’re all fleecing us. The fuckin’ cops and politicians. I pay them a few grand a month to keep them off my back. We all do. And you know the Irish are sniffing around. And the Dutch. I just figured we’d get all we need in one gig. Just one. It would see us through this property deal’.
Charlie stepped forward and put his arm around Mike. ‘It’s tough right now. I know. But we’ve got to stick together.’
‘Yeah. Okay, okay. I’m sorry, Charlie’. The two men hugged. ‘I’ll be off. See you both tonight’.
Eddie watched Mike walk away, then turned to his brother. ‘So, what’s that all about?’
‘When we first got here, we all agreed that we wouldn’t do no dodgy business down here. If one of us breaks this agreement, does something and gets caught, the Spanish authorities will be all over us. Extradition treaty or not, they can make our lives miserable,’ said Charlie. ‘Mikey’s my oldest mate, but he’s an idiot sometimes. Especially with women’.
‘Uh-huh. And what about Bill?’ said Eddie.
‘What about him?’
‘You told him that Fallaci would pay up. That’s not how it went down this morning’.
‘Fuck that tosser,’ said Charlie. ‘He’ll pay. He’s just trying it on coz he’s heard we’re having some grief with this property deal. Like I said, we just need to get it going with our own cash, then we’re back in control’.
‘You really believe that?’
‘It’s how business gets done down here. You gotta stay strong, or people will try to take you on. We don’t want no trouble, but we’ll dish it out if we have to’.
Eddie shrugged. ‘If you say so. This is your territory. I’m a stranger to this,’ said Eddie.
‘You don’t have to be. We could use your help here. I could use your help’.
Eddie shook his head. ‘I told you. I’ve got this gig in Africa. I gave them my word’. He looked Charlie in the eye. ‘The bloke that runs it looked after me. When it mattered’.
Charlie put his hand on his brother’s shoulder. ‘Okay, okay. I get it,’ he said. ‘You made a promise. And you don’t owe me nuffin. You’re right. Just stick around for a few more days. Please? The boys are on edge here. We’ve always been tight, but we’re fraying at the edges. I’m struggling to keep em all together. Just a while. Yeah?’
‘I can stay for a few days. But no more. I’m serious, Charlie. All this gangster shit. It’s not me’.
‘I know. You were always a better man than me. That’s why you are a soldier, and why I’m stuck here on the run from the law back home’.
‘Was a soldier. Not any more, remember?’ said Eddie.
The sound of raised voices outside caught their attention. Charlie made his way into the public area of the bar, but one of the staff stopped him in his tracks.
‘It’s that Inglés television reporter,’ said the Spaniard.
Charlie peered out onto the street below. A camera crew were standing in the road surrounded by a small crowd of passersby. Eddie could see Mike and the others scrambling to get into their cars to make their escape.
‘You can’t run forever, Michael McNaughton,’ shouted a portly man in a cream suit and a white shirt.
Kenny’s silver Mercedes sped away, followed by Bill and Roger in a dark green Jaguar XJ6. Mike’s Ferrari howled out of its parking space and onto the street, forcing the reporter and his colleagues to dive for cover, and leaving a cloud of white smoke in its wake.
‘Jeremy fucking Crampton,’ said Charlie.
‘The TV reporter that’s after you?’ asked Eddie.
‘Uh-huh’. Charlie gestured towards the scene below where Crampton was urging his crew towards the bar. He took a step forward, but Eddie stopped him, grabbing his arm.
‘If you go down there, you’ll be all over the British television tonight. Do you have another way out of here?’
Charlie, looking flustered, nodded. ‘Yeah, this way. There’s a door in the basement’.
A voice shouted from below, ‘Charles Lawson, I know that’s you. You cannot hide from the British law forever’.
Charlie shouted at the two men standing behind the bar. ‘You two. Shut the bar for the night. And don’t let that bastard in. Got it?’
The two men hurried down the stairs to the bar’s entrance where another of their colleagues was trying to prevent Crampton from gaining access. ‘This way,’ Charlie shouted.
Eddie took one last glance at the scene below and spied several local policemen at the roadside. Next to them was a familiar face - the Detective Constable that Eddie had met at the restaurant, just an hour earlier. ‘Fuck,’ he thought as he picked up the bag containing his new jacket, before following his brother to a set of stairs that led down under the pub.
The basement comprised several rooms. One was full of boxes of crisps and crates of bottles. Another contained dozens of shiny steel beer barrels, their hoses snaking up to the bar above through a hole in the ceiling. A solid-looking metal door barred their access to a third room.
Charlie fumbled around in his pocket for a set of keys, before finding the one he was looking for and inserting it into the lock. He forced open the door and flicked on a light switch. ‘Quick. Get in,’ he said. Eddie snuck inside, crouching to avoid the low ceiling while Charlie closed the door behind him and locked it.
The room seemed to be old - much older than the bar upstairs. The walls were constructed from little weathered bricks. He guessed it dated back to the early twentieth at least, unlike the concrete-framed building above them. The air was crisp. Eddie could see three sizeable wooden work desks, one with an old vice. An assortment of modern tools lay on the surfaces, hanging from hooks on the walls and in metal boxes. There were several cameras and an expensive-looking camcorder on a white, fibreboard shelf. A large TV sat on one desk with a Sony Betamax video recorder next to it upon which rested a tower of videotapes. There were several boxes of various sizes containing a range of electronic components, including miniature microphones. On one wall was a cork board pinned to which were several sketches of architectural layouts, and what seemed to be covert photographs of people, c
ars and houses.
Charlie was standing in front of another sturdy metal door on the opposite side of the room. He stood still, listening for signs of movement on the other side. ‘Okay, I think we’re in the clear,’ he declared. He inserted a key in the lock and twisted it, before he yanked three separate thick metal bolts open. The door opened and Charlie urged Eddie to go through, before locking the door. They were on the top of a small set of concrete steps leading down into an underground car park. The walls were white except for a single, horizontal red stripe painted on the walls and concrete columns. There were over fifty spaces. ‘It’s for the hotel above’ said Charlie. ‘This is my secret escape route, in case of moments like this one. None of the staff know about it’ .
‘And the workshop?’ asked Eddie.
Charlie hesitated for a moment. ‘That’s where Lucian works’.
‘Lucian?’
‘The geezer who does the surveillance work for me. Gets me information. Stuff I can use to protect us all here’.
‘You spy on people?’
‘I gather information. I told you, we have to be clever down here’. He scanned the surrounding space. ‘C’mon, we need to get out of here’.
‘Who do you spy on?’
Charlie put his hands into his pockets. ‘Politicians. Businessmen. Civil servants. Bent cops. Some other Brits. Lucian used to work for the KGB or something. He knows his shit’.
‘And how do you use this…information? Are you blackmailing people down here?’
Charlie started down the steps. ‘Sometimes’.
‘Jesus, Charlie,’ said Eddie. ‘That’s not keeping things “squeaky clean”, is it?’
Charlie snorted. ‘And what would you have me do? The boys would all be penniless and stuck in a ten-by-six cell in Wormwood Scrubs by now if it weren’t for what I do for them. Knowledge is power, bruv. It’s how we move forward. The other lads are living in the past. I’m different. So are you. And if you were to stick around, we could -’.
Eddie held up both palms in a “please stop” pose. ‘No,’ he said. He took a few steps back and leaned against a black BMW. ‘I told you, I ain’t no gangster. I think I should -’.
The sound of a car starting up at the other end of the car park stopped him.
‘Not now, bruv. C’mon, we ain’t got time to natter. That bastard up there will figure out we’ve left soon. I’ll leave the Porsche on the street. We can get a cab from the front of the hotel above’. He strode off towards a stairwell.
Eddie sighed. ‘I need to get out of this mess,’ he thought, then marched after him.
Chapter Nine
No Gangster
The brothers made their way out of the hotel above the underground car park. Eddie watched as Charlie flagged down a cream-coloured Mercedes taxi.
‘Nuevo Andalusia,’ he said to the Spanish driver who replied with a lazy nod. ‘And go the proper way. I’m not a tourist. Comprende?’
Charlie collapsed into his seat, wiped the sweat from his face with his shirtsleeve then wound down his window. His shirt was half untucked at the waist and his armpits were drenched with sweat. ‘Fuck me, what a day. Do we need to get rat-arsed tonight, or what?’ said Charlie, chuckling. He leaned towards the open window and into the passing air. ‘There’s a few people at the party at the party I want you to meet. I do a lot of business with them’.
‘I told you, Charlie,’ said Eddie. ‘I ain’t staying in Spain. I can catch a flight to Kinshasa from Morocco. I just need a couple of grand for the travel. Like you promised’.
‘Whoa, bruv. You said you’d hang around for a bit. Don’t make any snap decisions before you’ve had a chance to get the lay of the land’.
‘Charlie, I told you. This ain’t me. I’m sorry’.
The taxi slowed as it approached a pedestrian crossing and the driver shot his passengers a fervent look in the rearview mirror.
Charlie leaned towards his brother and lowered his voice. ‘Ed. Look, these last few days…it ain’t always like this. You’ve caught us at a bad time. Honest, all this business with the property project, that fuckin’ reporter and all the other stuff. It ain’t like that normally. Please, give it another week at least. You’ll see’.
‘I made a commitment to an army colleague,’ Eddie said. ‘End of story’.
Charlie sighed but was plainly not about to give up. ‘I get it. I do. It’s like you have this code of honour thing, right?’ he said. ‘But, Ed. That’s just like the boys and me. Don’t you see? It’s the same’.
‘It ain’t the same,’ said Eddie.
‘It sort of is, Ed. We’ve had our battles too. Of a kind. We’ve had our victories, and we’ve had losses together. We’ve lost people. We’ve suffered. As a crew. As a family. But we stuck together through thick and thin and now look what we have’. He motioned at Eddie to look at the view out the window. The car was now making its way up a steep road lined with tall pine trees. Eddie looked at the big houses as they passed by with their large fences, walls and imposing gates, most of which were closed. ‘I understand you want what you had in the army. That sense of togetherness, of purpose and camaraderie. That you were all in it together’.
‘Charlie I can’t-,’ said Eddie.
‘Just a sec, listen to me. I understand, I really do. And I know that what we have here ain’t the same. Of course, it ain’t. But neither is being a paid mercenary fighting in some godforsaken shithole in Timbuktu or wherever. They might give you a uniform and a gun, but it won’t be like it was for you in the paras. It might feel like it is for a while, but before long, you will start to question what the hell you’ve got yourself into. Then what? Where do you go from that? Hey?’
‘You don’t know what you’re talking about,’ said Eddie. ‘You’ve never served. All you’ve ever done is lie, cheat and steal from others. You don’t know anything about duty and sacrifice. You’re just a bloody criminal, Charlie’. He was shouting now.
Charlie tried to calm him, but Eddie’s thoughts were being intruded upon by painful memories from that wet, cold island in the South Atlantic.
‘I killed people, Charlie. I killed soldiers…kids. Kids who only were there because their government put them there. I did it because my government told me to. I did it. I came back, but others didn’t. I saw good friends die in front of me, in my fuckin’ arms. I was there, Charlie. I did that. For Queen and fuckin’ country. And you try to compare that to what you lot do? You think shoving a shotgun in some security guard’s face is like being in combat? Telling some poor old sod in a bank to hand over the keys to the safe or you’ll top him and make his missus a widow? Make his kids fatherless? All for money? So you can have this?’ He waved his hands at the scene outside. ‘You think that’s the fuckin’ same as being a soldier?’ His voice was shaking.
Charlie averted his brother’s stare. ‘I’m sorry. I didn’t mean it like that, Ed. But this needs sayin’. Being a merc ain’t the same either. Who the fuck d’yer think you’d be shooting kids for down there, then? Hey? Some oil baron or mining corporation. Or the CIA. That’s who! You think there’s fuckin’ honour in that? Some higher cause? Fuck off is there!’ Charlie noticed that the driver was watching intently. He leant forward, clamped his hand on the man’s throat and pulled him back against the headrest. ‘Keep your fuckin’ ears shut and your eyes on the poxy road or I’ll put you in hospital for six months. You hear me?’
‘Lo siento, señor,’ said the quivering driver. Charlie still had a firm hold of the man.
‘I think he’s got the message, Charlie,’ said Eddie. Charlie waited a few seconds then relaxed his grip. The driver coughed and quickly switched his attention back to the road ahead as Charlie sat back. ‘I’ll be going in a couple of days,’ Eddie continued, puncturing the momentary silence. ‘You gonna lend me that money?’
‘If that’s what you want,’ said Charlie.
‘It is’.
‘Yeah then’.
‘I’ll pay you back,’ said Eddie.
‘I don’t want it fuckin’ back,’ said Charlie as the taxi approached his villa. ‘You can stop here,’ he said, pointing. ‘Aquí. Stop aquí’. The driver nodded and pulled the car to a stop. Charlie pulled a wad of pesetas from his wallet and held them out to the driver. ‘And next time mind your own friggin’ business’. The brothers got out of the Mercedes. Eddie stood holding the bag that contained his newly purchased jacket. ‘Listen, Ed -,’ said Charlie.
‘Forget it. I was out of order,’ as he turned and walked towards the villa’s entrance. Charlie entered a code into the door’s security panel and Eddie heard the electronic buzz as it unlocked and slid open.
They walked down the driveway to the villa’s massive wooden door, the gravel crunching under their shoes. Charlie fetched his keys from his pocket and unlocked it.
‘I’m going to catch forty winks,’ said Eddie.
‘Hang on, bruv. We can’t leave it like this,’ said Charlie. ‘Have a drink with me. Just a quick one, please?’ He walked towards the kitchen. He reached for two glasses, picked up a bottle of Jameson whiskey then poured out two generous measures. ‘Ice?’ Eddie shrugged. Charlie fetched some ice from the nearby freezer and dropped two cubes in each glass. He handed one to Eddie.
‘To Mum and Dad,’ said Charlie and lifted the glass to his mouth. They both downed their drinks. ‘Look, Ed, about what you saw in the cellar -’.
‘It doesn’t matter what I saw’.
‘What Lucian does -’.
‘I said it don’t matter,’ said Eddie.
‘But I need you to understand. I do it all for the boys,’ said Charlie.
‘Oh, come on, Charlie. All that ‘all in it together’ bullshit, you keep spouting. It’s bollocks. They’re all running out of money as far as I can see, but you seem to be doin’ pretty nicely up here in this palace of yours’.
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