by P. G. Burns
Four Arc Hon = Amitiel, Raphael, Chamuel and Michael. Unsure whose side they are on seem to be on Simeon beliefs Michael was victim of the same assailant that has been killing the Djinn.
Baal and Solfrid first Djinn to assimilate as humans thousands of years before the thirteen arrived.
The Demiurge, creator, absent God?
Human champion has beautiful woman on her arm?? No idea what this means
Stoke Prison
Leo is grateful to the prison Governor for granting him permission to meet with Shane each day for their chess game. Leo had been a model prisoner before the “incident” and the routine of the chess games could only add to the stability of his mental state so the Governor told him he would ask Shane if he was willing.
At first Leo had wondered if Shane would accept. He wouldn’t blame him if he didn’t. He realises that the tiny crumb of credibility his stories ever had with Shane is probably long gone now that he has been banged up in the loony wing and diagnosed with delusional disorder. Still, he needs to try to warn Shane of the event that is surely going to happen. Faith has been in short supply lately but Leo needs to at least have faith in Shane. The thought that he might fail to convince Shane that he has been telling the truth is his biggest fear, as he knows this could lead to Shane being unprepared for the coming attack the Djinn most definitely have planned. He also knows his idea to escape from the prison will not be met with approval from Shane. Leo decides not to panic. He has to believe in fate, even though he knows even fate is controlled by the Djinn.
Shane had pondered the idea of turning down Leo’s request for special visits. The Governor told him there was no pressure if he wanted to decline; he explained that Leo’s condition was called delusional disorder and caused him to imagine things. Shane had only begun to settle into a normal prison existence since Leo’s episode. He was curious though since so many things didn’t add up. The cameras failing on the two occasions Leo was attacked, the involvement of Robert Price, the lady called Solfrid, even the attempt on Leo’s life at the exact time Shane was off the wing. So he agreed to the visits in the end and the two reignited their chess tournament.
“So they finally clocked that you’re a fruitcake,” remarks Shane on seeing Leo for the first time in months. Leo smiles and hugs his friend. They set up the game and begin to play.
“Do you think I’m crazy?” Leo asks him.
Shane looks away. “I don’t know, man.”
Leo is encouraged that it’s not an outright “no”. He decides to plough straight into it.
“You must plan an escape.” Shane gulps; he hadn’t thought Leo would embark on his normal crackpot conversation so early on.
“Escape? Why would I want to do that? I will be out in less than eighteen months.”
Leo sounds very concerned as he replies, “You won’t be alive in eighteen months, maybe not even in a month if you stay here.”
A sigh from Shane betrays his impatience at Leo’s ramblings. “Listen, old man, I agreed to these meetings because you’re a genuinely nice guy and I enjoy the tales you tell but if you think for one minute you are going to coerce me into some crazy fucking escape plan, you can stop now. Can we not just play chess and do our time?”
This time Leo is irate. “Fucking hell! Are you blind? I have spent the last twenty-odd sodding months trying to enlighten you on what is going on out there. I have explained that you are an important part of what is about to happen. You saved me from my first assassination attempt, for God’s sake! Do you think it is a coincidence that the minute you’re not around a second attempt is made on my life? Do you? I am past concern for my own life; however, I have been given the unenviable task of trying to educate you on the facts.”
Leo tries a lower tone, reminding himself not to panic or throw a wobbler.
“I know, I’m sorry, I also resisted the truth in the beginning,” Leo says. He looks at Shane’s face and sees there is no belief, just pity. Now he feels panic, his tone rises again and the thin veil of calm quickly falls. “I know I had Simeon to show me but still… All the things I’ve told you? Shane, you are now bordering on the retarded scale? Why Simeon and Chamuel ever thought you are something special is beyond me. Fuck, fuck, fuck!”
The guard looks over, concerned at Leo’s erratic behaviour.
“Calm down, old man. You got to sort that temper out and the language is not befitting! I was just saying…” Shane leans in so the guard cannot hear, “…what’s the plan then? How are we getting out?”
Leo knows Shane is humouring him and he regrets his outburst. That was not the best way to prove to someone you are not crazy.
Cumisky’s Casino, present day
Three men are meeting in the plush office at the back of Kieran Cumisky’s Casino in London’s West End. Standing outside the office are two heavily armed Serbian gangsters, an equally armed man who is Kieran Cumisky’s personal bodyguard, he regards the other men warily, and a young man with many piercings and long hair with a fringe covering his eyes. The men inside the office are seated around the table.
Kieran Cumisky, casino proprietor and one of the East End’s most notorious villains, is facing his two guests: Jovan Ramaska, a Serbian drug and prostitution provider, to his left and to his right Reuben Lupas, a blond-haired, pale gaunt man who reminds Kieran of a seventies horror film star.
“Well, I hope you had no trouble finding the place. I feel I should do the introductions as it’s my gaff, but to be honest I don’t know who you are,” says Kieran, addressing Reuben, “so that makes it awkward.”
Jovan scoffs. “Well, I know who you are Mr Cumisky and I am sure you know who I am.” He turns to Reuben. “But I have no idea who the fuck Starsky here is.” Cumisky laughs, then corrects Jovan, “You mean Hutch, the blonde one was Hutch.”
Reuben says nothing as the two murderous and dangerous gangsters amuse themselves taking the piss out of his appearance.
“I think he looks more like a skinny Donald Trump,” adds Cumisky.
Jovan agrees, laughing even louder. “So Donald, why are we here? You’re not a policeman, are you? Because you would be the most obvious copper I have ever seen.”
He laughs one more time, this time alone as Cumisky scans Reuben’s face for signs of nerves just in case he is with the law. Reuben returns his stare and suddenly Cumisky feels a little uncomfortable.
“My name, gentlemen, is Reuben Lupas. I have a proposal that will benefit all three parties: the Serbians, the Cumisky group and, of course, myself.”
Jovan is struggling to take the weird-looking guy seriously. He is pissed off that his so-called superiors back in Serbia have insisted he come to this meeting without telling him what it was about.
Jovan is laughing to himself when he makes his next comment. “So how is a faggot like you going to help two well-respected businessmen like myself and Mr Cumisky?” Jovan flicks Reuben’s blond locks and blows him a kiss chuckling to himself. Then with a spark of inspiration, he lifts his left arse cheek and farts in Rueben’s general direction, laughing hysterically at the discomfort he is inflicting on the man.
Kieran Cumisky watches curiously as if watching a mouse caught by a tomcat. He has no pity for the weird-looking guy and wonders how someone so ill-equipped to handle the type of people in the underworld ever expected anything else but ridicule, or worse, but he catches Reuben’s gaze and once more feels discomfort.
Reuben looks unfazed by Jovan’s aggressive and unfriendly attitude. He stands and walks to Cumisky’s drinks cabinet.
“Aw, have I hurt your feelings?” laughs Jovan.
Cumisky thinks to tell him drinks are not complimentary but then sees he is not looking for a drink. Instead he opens the secret draw under the cabinet, pulls out the gun hidden there, turns, and blows the Serbian’s head off.
Kieran Cumisky jumps back, struggling not to topple the furniture. “What the fuck?” He looks at Reuben who replaces the gun into the drawer. A disturbance can be heard outside the door but no one
enters. The hardened West End criminal sits back down and listens to Reuben politely.
“As I was about to say,” says Reuben, “I have a proposal. It is regarding your brother, Phil Cumisky.”
Now Kieran is confused, his mind races, he struggles to look composed. “My brother is in prison, he won’t be out for a long time.”
Reuben nods and lights up a cigarette. Cumisky thinks about explaining the recent legislation regarding smoking in a workplace but decides this guy has little time for rules.
“And how do you feel about your brother’s internment? I believe you two are very close.”
Kieran is understandably suspicious of this man who somehow knew the location of the gun he hid so well that two previous police raids had not uncovered it, a man who then blew a hole in the face of the leader of one of the most violent gangs ever to operate in London as if he was a lame horse.
“What is this all about? I would appreciate it if you got to the point before our friend here starts to stink the office out.”
“Of course. I wish to join forces in a common interest. I will assist you in organising a prison break. I also have someone in the same prison and I have a couple of inside men who will aid our mission. I have an excellent plan and a relocation strategy as well.”
Kieran asks the obvious. “So why do you need me?”
“Manpower. its common knowledge that you command a small army of your own and that you have good relations with other mob bosses.”
Kieran looks at the Serbian’s body. “Well, I did have.”
Reuben chuckles. “Don’t worry. I will clean up this mess. Jovan here has been skimming profits from his overlords back home; they requested that he be eliminated. They will announce a new London boss today, one that I will introduce you to. Together you will have a very lucrative relationship.” Reuben smiles at the awe in Kieran’s face. He is glad he took the opportunity to kill two birds with one stone when he killed Jovan here. He has terminated the target and cut out any doubt with his new partner that he is a serious and well-connected man.
Once business is agreed and the next stage finalised the two men shake hands and Reuben leaves. Jovan’s two henchmen enter the room, saying nothing as they place Jovan in a prepared body bag. Then the young dogsbody wheels in a cleaning trolley as soon as they leave and proceeds to remove any smaller parts of Jovan still remaining. Twenty minutes later the office is spick and span as if nothing had happened.
Once he is alone, Kieran walks to his drinks cabinet, checks the hidden drawer where he concealed the weapon. It is locked. He delves into his pocket and pulls out the key. He pours a drink, sits down and reflects on the most bizarre meeting he has ever had.
Stoke Prison
Back in Stoke Prison Shane has managed to calm Leo down. Convinced now that the old guy has truly lost his marbles, Shane rethinks his decision to spend his recreation time listening to ever more ridiculous stories and prophecies.
The fact that the guy is a fruitcake doesn’t stop Shane from liking him though, so on returning to his cell he decides to play along with Leo’s scheme. He has to admit, loon or not, he was definitely the most interesting person in this prison. As if to reinforce this Johnny and Gary come to his cell raving on about their new favourite TV programme. As Shane pretends to listen he is disturbed to see Robert Price appear at the cell door. Shane looks up at him, preparing for an attack. Johnny and Gary both quickly attempt to get out of the way of any potential conflict.
“Can I speak with you, man?” asks Robert, in a low non-intimidating way.
Shane points to the chair opposite his bunk, inviting him to sit. Robert makes his way to the seat, looking Johnny and Gary up and down.
“It’s a private matter, if that’s all right?” he adds.
Johnny and Gary look to Shane for instruction. He shrugs. “Give us a moment, hey lads?”
The two men wait until they are alone before they begin.
“So what can I do for you?” asks Shane.
“How is the old man?” The genuine concern in Robert’s voice surprises Shane.
“Why are you so concerned about an old Jew? I mean, if I’m not mistaken you’re a follower of Islam and from what I’ve heard an enthusiastic Jihadist.”
Robert is not thrown by Shane’s candidness and answers honestly. “I have discovered the Gnosis. I know about the Djinn. I am a Muslim and he is a Jew but we are just men with a common enemy.”
Shane has to wonder how two people can be suffering from the same delusion and end up in the same fucking prison.
“Listen, I put up with the old man’s bullshit because I like him but he is a fucking space cadet. I don’t know how you have come across this fantasy about the master race of spirits or whatever they are, but if that’s what you came to talk to me about then I got to tell you I have had it up to here with it. I live in the real world, not some paradox where the planet is a giant game and we are being manipulated by some sort of fuckwit aliens or whatever they’re supposed to be.”
Robert takes no offence and nods, not in agreement, more in empathy, before he perseveres in an attempt to convince Shane. “I know it’s a lot to take in but we ain’t got much time. I was told that Reuben would first set the Muslim world on fire. He has done this and then he will bring Europe to the brink once more. Man, you heard what’s going on in the Crimea?”
Shane looks at Robert with a blank expression.
“He is picking his foes off and setting the seeds for his plan. Some of his competitors’ most valuable brethren have disappeared. Planes have disappeared, for fuck’s sake. These are all distractions, that’s how he works and he is planning a distraction here in this prison. You are the target and he will not rest until he has you dead or alive.”
Shane sighs. Why me, why do all the nutters talk to me? he thinks to himself.
Robert persists. “Chamuel told me that before Reuben finalises his plan he will come for you.”
Shane wonders if he should talk to the prison psychiatrist about this man.
“Hmm, I see you think I’m for the nut house also but soon you are going to have defend yourself, so you’d best be ready. I promised Chamuel that I would protect you with my own life if need be, but you need to be on your guard because they’re going to come at us with some mighty-fucking-force, you hear me? Some mighty-fucking-force!”
It would be impolite to throw someone out who has just told you he will die for you but Shane doubts he can nurture another crackpot. Still, he does have questions. “What happened with the fairy and Leo?”
Robert pauses as he thinks back to Leo’s attacker. “You mean the gay man, Graham? He was sent by one of the Djinn. Not Reuben though, most likely Levi. Anyway, he was sent to kill Leo. I had been watching him since I came here. The fairy, as you call him, was known to the Arc Hon and so it was no coincidence that I was able to thwart his attempt to kill Leo.”
“Why kill Leo?”
“The Djinn are aware that you are the Deliverer and that Leo has been mentoring you. Chamuel thinks they were trying to have you transferred out and perhaps Levi wanted Leo out of the way in an attempt to mess up the plan.”
Shane blinks. “What fucking plan?”
“To convince you to side with him.”
“Who?”
“Reuben, of course.” Robert studies Shane’s face, looking for a sign of trepidation regarding this statement. Instead, Shane laughs and falls back to lying on his bunk, closing his eyes.
“Whatever. Listen I am grateful for the warning and all the protection. I will keep an eye out for any ghosts.” Shane says no more; he is hoping Robert will accept his promise and leave him the fuck alone. He waits with his eyes closed then opens them to see his wish was granted. The cell is empty.
From the office of Cumisky Casino, Kieran has quickly put together twenty of his best guys for this the mission. Reuben has explained the plan, that his brother will be safely in the yard when the fire
takes hold and all his boys need to do is roll up in the ambulance. Right now they are all waiting in a barn less than a mile from the prison. Two are dressed in medic uniforms, the others are fully kitted out in police riot gear.
“You will get a call,” Reuben had told him, “and then you move in. There will be hundreds of riot police arriving in similar vehicles. Your men will blend in with all the chaos. They are to go straight to C wing where my guy will act as the commanding officer. They just follow his lead, okay?”
“How can you be certain the fire will spread? What if the inmates don’t riot? We could all be turning up looking like the keystone cops!”
Reuben had planned everything meticulously, as always, but he was not about to explain himself to this two-bit hood who was only here so the headlines would be plausible. The fire will be started via a gas explosion. It will be ignited in the lobby of the admin block, a section of the building that was built in Victorian times. With meticulous calculations by Gerome, an incendiary expert who Reuben had planted in the prison months earlier, a device will be supplied to Phil Cumisky, who will drop it down a shaft that leads to the main gas pipe junction, thus causing an explosion. In this old part of the building the flames will accelerate rapidly and reach the main building within minutes, by which time it will be a twelve-hundred-degree unstoppable inferno. The only recourse for the prison guards will be to evacuate the prisoners to the allotments at the rear of the prison. Protocol is that they call ahead to the nearest Met station. The police will then dispatch all available riot police and cordon off the area.
In the confusion Cumisky’s men, dressed as both medics and riot police, will grab Phil and whisk him off in the ambulance. As his part of the deal, Cumisky’s men will aid Reuben’s guy to capture two inmates and kill another. The men will then use the confusion to separately leave the area. Job done.
“Everything will happen exactly as I have planned,” is all he offered as reassurance.
Reuben had actually had little to no interest in Phil Cumisky’s escape but needed a cover story for his plan to abduct Shane and Leo. These crooks of Cumisky’s will be blamed for the prison break and with the high-security wing breach releasing hundreds of the country’s most dangerous criminals into the general populace, the authorities will hardly bother to investigate a couple of low-risk inmates who were likely to turn up of their own accord.