by James Hilton
“Try that again and I’ll shoot you in the back. If you survive you will spend the rest of your miserable life in a wheelchair. Understand?”
Julie replied with an inarticulate noise and nodded her head.
Garcia scowled at her, anticipating the things he had planned for her flesh. He took another look at the flailing bodies that were struggling to escape through the main doors and smiled. Turning Julie in a tight circle he moved the pistol from her back and fired. A woman at the rear of the crowd was pitched to the ground.
“Parting shot!” Garcia winked and then forced Julie through the staff door and headed towards the rear exit.
81
Danny raced towards the rear doors of the club. The screams from within and the smoke that billowed from the open door left no doubt what was happening.
A man and woman emerged, locked in an embrace. No not an embrace. He had an arm locked tight around her throat. Her face was a mask of fear.
“Julie!”
Danny’s voice halted the man in his tracks. He twisted Julie around, bringing the Kimber SCU to the side of her head. “That’s close enough, pendejo.”
Danny took a slow step closer.
“You want this bitch’s brains over your shoes? Just keep on coming.”
Danny exhaled. He took another slow step, letting the bag drop to the ground. He held his hands out to the side of his body, palms up.
Julie stared into his eyes. Her face was white, her mouth a tight line. The pistol dug hard into the side of her face.
Garcia grunted as he tightened the hold around Julie’s neck. Another man had entered the wide alley at the rear of the club. He stood head and shoulders taller than the Scotsman and held a pistol up and ready.
Garcia flinched as something exploded in the kitchen behind him. An orange fireball filled the doorway, expanding vigorously as it met the outside air.
“You got him, Clay?” Danny asked.
“Dead in my sights.”
Garcia flicked his attention from the hulking American back to the closer threat.
“That’s my brother, Clay. I should warn you that he was the best shot in his regiment. You shoot the girl, he shoots you. Your one chance is to drop your weapon.”
Air hissed between Garcia’s teeth. “You think I would trust an Englishman and an American? Maybe you should join the Locos.”
“Scotsman.”
“Texan!”
Garcia shook his head, scowling at Danny. “Last time we met, a young boy got in the way of our fun. Now you bring along Buffalo Bill to fight your battles. I thought you were going to be more of a challenge than that, a worthy opponent, but you’re just another pussy pendejo that can’t finish what he started.”
“Listening to you is getting real old, real quick.” Danny shifted his weight onto his left foot. “I’ll give you three seconds to drop your gun.”
“Chingate!”
“One…”
Garcia repeated his curse in English, slow and loud. “Go fuck yourself!”
“Two…”
Julie slammed her right hand back between Garcia’s legs. She grabbed onto what she found there and squeezed, her knuckles turning white.
Garcia’s pistol bucked in his hand as he roared in pain.
Julie dropped to her knees as the flash from the pistol seared across her face.
Spearing forward, Danny leaped over Julie’s crouching form, one hand seizing Garcia’s gun hand, the other going for his throat.
The pistol barked again, the flash illuminating both faces for a brief instant.
Pulling him close, Danny smashed his nose with a vicious headbutt. Garcia pitched back onto his heels, blood streaming down his lower face. Keeping the pistol angled away from both his own and Julie’s body, Danny hit him with his head a second time, the impact sharp and brutal. Julie scrambled to safety, covering her head with her arms.
As both men wrestled for control of the firearm, Clay moved closer. The two men were now locked in a deadly embrace, hands at each other’s throats, gripping so tight their knuckles were white. Garcia’s pistol was forced high above his head as Danny dropped his weight and surged forward.
Clay sighted on the centre of Garcia’s gun hand and squeezed the trigger.
Boom!
Garcia’s fingers exploded in a red mist as the .45 ACP round found its target. The Kimber pistol he had been trying to lever towards Danny’s head fell to the ground.
Danny let him fall. He gazed down at what was left of the Spaniard’s hand. He’d seen pictures of shark bites that looked prettier. Behind him, orange flames licked around the edges of the doorway like devils’ fingers, black smoke filling the void.
“You’re finished. Done. No more fire bombs for you, Torchy.”
Clay stepped closer, the pistol aimed at the fallen man. “Not to worry. I hear Spanish prisons are just a laugh a minute. Wonder how long you’ll get?”
Garcia lurched to his feet, the bloody remnant of his hand cradled against his chest. His voice was ragged as he swayed on unsteady legs. “I don’t care how long I get. When I get out I’ll slit the throat of everyone that works in this godforsaken club. I’ll do the cripple first then come back for his wife—”
“Well ain’t you just a ray of golden sunshine.” Clay flashed him a grin befitting a rapturous TV evangelist. “If you’re happy and you know it clap your—oh!”
“I’ll fucking kill them all and then I’ll—”
The heel of Danny’s boot slammed out in a side-thrust kick, catching Garcia in the centre of his chest. The smoke and flames within the doorway seemed to open momentarily like the claw of a behemoth, then he was gone. An agonised scream echoed from within the inferno.
Clay placed a hand on his brother’s shoulder. “Hey, out of the frying pan…”
Danny stepped back from the searing heat and helped Julie to her feet.
“I thought I was going to die,” she said, her voice thick with emotion.
“But you didn’t.” Danny cupped her face in his hands. “You did really well. A lot of people would have frozen up.”
“I did it without thinking. I just kind of panicked.”
Danny kissed her as he brushed hair from her face. She would sport the painful burn from the muzzle flash for a week or two. The red stripe across her cheek looked almost like war paint.
“I hope everybody got out of the club okay,” said Clay. As he frowned, the lattice of old scars on the side of his face crinkled.
Julie shook her head. “I nearly didn’t. I was upstairs when I heard the screaming. Must have gone up really fast. I was only up there a minute or two. I ran back down when I heard the screams. There were flames everywhere.”
“Somehow I don’t think that was Mr Crispy’s first job,” replied Clay.
“Wasn’t. That was the same fucker who was pitching Molotovs at me the other night. Nearly got me a couple of times,” Danny said.
“Live by the scorch, die by the scorch,” said Clay. “So he got what was coming to him.”
“Not soon enough though.” Danny motioned at the smoke and flames.
“Ay-men to that.” Clay pushed his tongue under his upper lip. “Pam’s gonna have my hide for this.”
Danny reached out to both Julie and Clay, a hand on each shoulder. “Let’s go round to the front, see what’s happening.”
Clay tucked the Kimber into his waistband, then covered the weapon with his shirt. Danny picked up the bag of money. As they made their way around the building the noise grew in volume.
A crowd of a few hundred people had gathered in the street. Many wore expressions of shock, tears cutting streaks through their make-up and smoke-coated faces. Several were coughing and hacking. Many more were waving their smartphones in the air, filming the event.
“Look at these arseholes,” spat Danny. “They’ll be selling popcorn next.”
“This’ll all be on the Internet before the fire is out,” Julie said, nodding in agreement.
&n
bsp; Several men and women made their way towards Julie with their arms outstretched. All wore the same staff T-shirts. One of the girls caught her in an embrace. “Jesus, Julie. We didn’t know where you were. We thought you might still be inside.”
Julie returned the hugs. “No, thankfully I got out the back way.”
The sirens of approaching fire engines elicited a cheer from some of the spectators. Two trucks drove up, the lead driver sounding the horn in an effort to cut a path through the jumble of bodies.
“You okay with these guys?” asked Danny. “We need to go and check on Larry and Pam.”
Julie nodded softly, her eyes filling with tears. “I’ll be okay here.”
“I’ll see you later then.” Danny dipped his head slightly as he caught the uncertainty in her voice as she withdrew half a step.
Her next words were drowned out by the cheering from the crowd as the first jets of water were released by the fire crew.
82
The smell of hospitals was the same the world over. That slightly disconcerting cocktail of cleaning chemicals, nervous perspiration, relief and sorrow. Clay and Danny sat opposite Pamela in the waiting room. Her face was puffy and streaked by tears.
“So it was all for nothing.” Her voice was flat and tired. “Larry is lying in intensive care and the club is gone. I wish we’d never called you.”
“Pam, I…” Clay reached for his friend but she shrugged away from his touch. His hand hovered awkwardly in the space between them.
The tense moment was broken as Sally and Phil entered the room at jogging pace. Sally’s questions came out in a flood of nervous emotion. “Where’s Adam? Is he all right? We’ve been sick with worry. What the hell is going on?”
Pamela looked up at the new arrivals. “He’s okay. Broken arm and some cuts and bruises. He’ll live.”
“Larry?” Sally’s shaped eyebrows moved like caterpillars as she spoke.
“Damn fool managed to get himself shot up again.”
Clay stood to his full height. “He saved my life doing so. And Adam’s. If it wasn’t for Larry we’d all be dead. Give him a break, Pam.”
“Don’t tell me what to do, Clay. It’s my husband in there, getting bullets picked out of his butt.”
“I think the bullets went straight through him.”
Pamela rounded on Danny, anger flashing in her eyes. “Is that supposed to be funny, Danny? Because it isn’t.”
Danny held out his hands.
“And what about poor Dez. You had no business taking him with you on your friggin’ Rambo adventure. He’s dead you know. His family is just down the hall and I can’t even look at them.”
“I know he’s dead,” Danny almost shouted. “He died pretending to be me, to give us a fighting chance. But what Clay said is true. If it wasn’t for Larry we might all be dead. So count your blessings he’s still breathing. I agree, we shouldn’t have let them join us but we had no fucking options. Adam’s head was on the chopping block. That’s why they came. To save their friend.”
Pamela began to speak but Danny cut her off. “You knew the risks from the start. Instead of blaming your friends and family just remember who was trying to steal your business out from under your feet. The fucking Locos! That’s who deserves your anger, not us.”
Pamela cupped her head in her hands. This time she allowed Clay’s arm to hug her tight without objection.
“A much wiser man than me once said the night is darkest just before dawn. Larry will pull through and he’ll be back on his feet in no time.” Clay felt Pamela judder against his chest as she began to cry again.
The door of the waiting room swung open and a male nurse ushered Adam inside. Looking like a survivor from a disaster movie, he shambled in on stiff legs. His face was one big bruise, swollen and misshaped. One arm was cradled in a sling, a thick cast encircling his forearm. His other hand was also bandaged.
He was helped to a seat and Sally fussed around him while Phil looked on with a concerned gaze. Adam stared at the Gunn brothers with unmistakeable admiration. “You both came back. I knew you would. Aunt Sally, you should have seen these guys, they’re unbelievable.”
Sally tried to quieten her nephew but he continued despite her best efforts. “Did you get them all?”
Danny gave a single stern nod.
Tears spilled down his battered features. The quiet voice that came next was that of vindicated relief. “I knew you would.”
The remainder of the day was filled with more questions than answers. Pamela grew increasingly short and terse with the hospital staff as she asked about Larry’s condition. He had lost a lot of blood and the trauma from the gunshot wounds had wreaked havoc on his already damaged body. Sometime close to four in the afternoon a doctor whose name badge identified him as Dr Inosanto entered the room with a satisfied smile and gave Pamela the news she was desperate to hear.
After a round of shared embraces Clay decided that the Dukes had earned some private time. “We’ll come back after dinner to check on him. Go easy on the old coot, Daisy. He did it all because he loves you.”
She smiled up at him.
“That smile’s like sunshine after the rain,” said Clay as he gently shook her.
“See you later, you big dumb-assed Yank.” She stood on her tiptoes and kissed the side of his face. “Thank you.”
After a quick goodbye, Sally and Phil led Adam towards the exit. Adam looked over his shoulder, his eyes parting company from each other as he counted his teeth with his tongue. With unabashed admiration he looked at the sutures on Clay’s face. “You look like Marv from Sin City!” He waved a bandaged hand as he was ushered through the auto doors.
“You ready for something to eat? I know I am.” Danny patted the flat muscles of his stomach.
“Damned right,” Clay said. “I’m sure there will be a café around here somewhere.”
“Good, because I’m about to double their takings in one sitting. I hope they do decent steak and eggs. I could eat half a steer myself.”
“I’m thinking about going vegetarian. You know Dad died of a heart attack, probably from all those cheeseburgers he used to eat. Don’t want to go the same way.” Danny smiled as he took in the expression on his brother’s face.
“Two things: one, don’t ever expect me to stop eating meat. And two, what the hell are our chances of dying from cholesterol? You attract bullets like Brad Pitt attracts women.”
“Classy.”
“Indeed.”
83
One week later
The Woo Hoo had been reduced to a blackened shell. The smell of smoke clung stubbornly to every surface like a bad memory. The windows, doors and framework were missing and the club now resembled an oversized barbecue pit. Odd piles of blackened furniture were piled on the pavement outside, still awaiting removal. The buildings on each side of the club had sustained smoke damage and were closed.
Larry and Pamela huddled together as they surveyed what was left of their club. Larry propped himself on a new set of crutches while Pamela was rarely more than a few inches from his side. It had been that way from the moment the hospital had signed his release.
Behind them stood Danny, Clay and Julie. Jacks sniffed around the piles of charred wood with an occasional disapproving huff. He did not venture inside the remnants of the club, casting dubious looks at the charred building with his good eye.
Danny stepped up to Larry. “How are things going with the insurance company?”
“Ah, you know they never want to pay up. But they will. Pam upped the cover on the place like you said to. We were covered for nearly four times the amount that we were originally. When the money comes through the Woo Hoo will be bigger and better than ever.”
“So you are definitely sticking around? That’s good.”
Larry and Pamela exchanged a look. She brushed a strand of errant hair from her face. “After everything that’s happened we couldn’t just take the money and run. Besides, this is our home. We
’ve put down roots here.”
“The bag of money we found in the car will help tide you over until the insurance pays up.”
Larry shook his head. “Nah, Danny. It was good of you to offer but we gave that to Dez’s family. They need it a lot more than we do.”
“At least it went to a good home.”
“It did,” agreed Larry and Pam in unison.
“Dez’s family are still talking to the police. They need answers that we can’t give them,” added Pam.
“How are you faring with the cops?” asked Clay.
“It’s hard going. They ask the same ten questions over and over. They know that this wasn’t a random attack but can’t prove it. This is going to go on for a long, long time. They pulled three bodies out of the club. One poor bugger in the toilets and a woman out of the bar.” Larry shifted his weight on his crutches. “Oh, and the bonus prize in the kitchen.”
“Yeah, he got what was coming to him,” said Danny.
“Don’t worry about it. Your names will never come up.” Larry lifted his chin in respect to the two mismatched brothers. “You’re welcome here any time. Both of you.”
Pamela nodded furtively in Julie’s direction. “I know someone else that wouldn’t be upset if you decided to hang around a while.”
“I’ve already had that conversation. She knows I’m leaving tomorrow.” Danny shrugged apologetically.
Larry winced. “That explains the sour looks you keep getting.”
“Aye. I don’t blame her. I think she’s a bit scared of me and what I do. I’m just not what she’s looking for.”
Pamela scrutinised him with concern. “But what are you looking for, Danny?”
“I don’t know. I’ll send you both a postcard when I find it.”
“Well, like Larry said, you and Clay have always got a free place to stay with us if you need one.”
“Good to know,” said Clay. “And you’ve got my number if you ever need us again.”
Pamela thumped him on the chest. “We need your help like I need an extra layer of fat on my arse.”