by Alfie Robins
None of this was going the way Warren expected it to. He thought the operation would just involve intelligence gathering, ok, maybe he would have to get involved in some underhand deals, but robbing an armoured security van was not something he wanted any part of.
‘So, we put that on the back burner for a bit, in the meantime I have a bit of work to put your way, still interested Raymondo?’
He was all but slurring his words.
‘Like I said, my stash won’t keep me in luxuries forever.’ This was the opening he had been waiting for, he just wasn’t expecting it too soon. ‘A mate of mine wants a favour.’
‘Not the kind of favour that involves killing anyone I hope?’ Laughs all around.
‘Na, nothing too taxing. Jimbo here is overseeing an exchange, a wagon-load of booze for a large package of “H”.
‘How large a package?’
Warren sipped the malt. It was good.
‘Fifty grand, thereabouts.’
Conway said it without even blinking.
‘Which way is the swap?’
‘Well, it’s like this – I’ve arranged for a lorry full of export Black Label Whisky to be knocked off on the A1. My lads deliver it to the meet, Jimbo here hands the lorry over in exchange for the “H”. All you have to do is watch his back. Easy, a piece of piss.’
‘When’s this happening?’ Warren asked casually.
‘Can’t tell you that man, not until I know you’re in.’
‘I’m just being on the cagey side Mick; after all I am on the run, and its early days yet I’m supposed to be keeping my head down and not going out the way to get my collar felt.’
‘You’re a fucking worrier that’s what you are. Who the fuck is going to be looking for you up here in this shit hole? The cops will be concentrating down South,’ he said convincingly.
‘Suppose you’re right, ok, how much is in it for me?’
‘Besides your bed and breakfast? There’ll be a good drink in it. Like I said, it’s a piece of piss, what can go wrong?’ If only you knew, thought Warren. ‘You in or what?’
‘Yeah, what have I got to lose beside my liberty? I’m in. Jimbo fill the glasses, I’ll have tequila not this muck.’ Warren held up the fat glass tumbler of delicious malt as if it was dishwater. He thought it wise to keep to the script. The whisky and tequila kept flowing, well the whisky did. Warren took his slowly adding a drop of water to the tequila when he had the chance.
‘You hungry Ray?’
‘Starving, I could eat a scabby horse.’ Warren was genuinely seriously hungry.
‘Jimbo get yourself down to Billie’s Plaice and get us three large portions.’
Jimbo didn’t argue and was dispatched to fetch fish and chips from the local chippie. Alone with Conway, Warren thought maybe this was his opportunity to glean some information.
‘Seems a good lad,’ he said, ‘once you get past the tats and piercings. Just goes to prove appearances are deceptive. He worked for you long?’
‘Aye, he’s not a bad lad, been with me... must be a couple of years now.’
‘You trust him?’ Warren sat sprawled, legs out in front trying to look and act half-pissed.
‘Yep, he may be young but I knew his old man before he topped himself. Told his mam I’d keep an eye on him.’
‘What happened?’
‘The Big C, too many fags. He decided he didn’t want to carry on with the treatment and bloody hung himself. It was the lad who found him, hanging from the banister by his dressing gown cord.’
‘Jesus, rough, how did the lad take it?’
‘He was devastated, what with his mam having the early onset of dementia. I told her not to worry and I’d look after him.’
‘Where’s his mam now?’
‘Some crappy council run nursing home.’
The conversation was beginning to lean towards the morbid side, Warren changed tack.
‘Seen much of Jim Douglas, lately?’ he asked conjuring up one of the names from his homework.
‘Funny you should ask, I was on the blower to him yesterday discussing the possibility of a future deal. We did a bit of business together a couple of months back, he was bringing some bodies across from Holland.’
‘He’s stepped it up a bit, I thought he was more into a bit of baccy and booze,’ Warren nodded his head towards the spare room, ‘didn’t know he was into the serious stuff.’
‘Yeah well, supply and demand. Seems we might be on again pretty soon if you’re interested?’
‘Hell fire Mick, one job at a time,’ Warren joked, ‘don’t want my collar felt too soon. Know what I mean?’ They both laughed.
Jimbo came back with their fish suppers, along with more booze, lager this time. Warren had forgotten how good fish and chips tasted when eaten out of the paper wrapping.
‘Nice fish this,’ he said as he sucked the grease from his fingers.
‘Well it’s more who you know, know what I mean?’ he tapped the side of his nose with his finger. ’Cos they know if they sell me or my lad any crap that they can’t fry fish with deep fried fingers.’ They both creased up laughing. Warren believed every word he’d said.
The lorry full of booze was to be “hijacked” at the Peterborough Services on the A1M, on its way to Dover. The term “hijacked” was an exaggeration, as the driver of the truck was aware of what was going to happen. He was to leave his truck, grab a coffee and go to the gents. When he returned the vehicle would be gone. What the driver didn’t know was while he was in the gents he was to receive a nasty tap on the head to help keep things realistic. The exchange was to be made the same day, with a crew from Newcastle at the Goole Lorry Park, thirty miles west of Hull. It turned out Warren’s role was as the Watcher, just to keep his eye on things and pull Jimbo out if he suspected anything untoward.
Eventually goodnights were said, Warren’s nerves were shot, he’d been swapping battle stories with Conway for what seemed like hours.
Chapter 10
Even though he thought he’d taken it easy with the booze, Warren’s head throbbed when he woke the next morning. He didn’t feel too good. This coupled with the fact the flat smelled of stale booze and old greasy fish and chips didn’t help. Unfortunately, the hot water boiler was on the blink and a quick cold shower shocked some life into him. He’d have to tell the landlord, he joked to himself. Warren made himself some coffee and sat mulling over the events of past days and weeks. A hell of a lot had happened and he didn’t know where it was going. A quick tidy of the flat was called for, he dumped the cans and chip wrappers down the communal rubbish chute, and then it was time to make the call.
Watching was one thing, but taking part in a full blown armed robbery was a different proposition all together, one which he really didn’t want to be a part of. He’d signed up for some excitement and it looked like he was going to get his share. He gave it half an hour to be sure Conway or Jimbo wouldn’t turn up mid-call, then pressed speed dial one.
‘Greg, an unscheduled call, I take it there are developments?’ The voice belonged to John.
‘Things are starting to move.’
‘Already… I am surprised, tell me more.’ For the benefit of John, Bob put the call on speaker phone.
‘There’s to be an exchange made, a wagon load of booze for a substantial amount of class ‘A’.’
‘And when is this to take place?’
‘The exchange is later today – early evening.’
‘And you’re happy to take part, so soon after making contact?’
‘The job’s obviously been set up for ages. I reckon he’s sussing me out, a test.’
‘And your role?’
‘Watcher, I’m to look after Conway’s lad’s back when the exchange takes place. They call him Jimbo, don’t know his real name at this stage.’
‘You have the details?’
Warren told him as much as he knew.
‘How are you going to play this – you going to intervene?’ He ask
ed.
‘Not this time, everything will go as planned without any interference from outside. Just keep us in the loop.’
‘Before you hang up, he’s after putting a team together to rob a Securicash van.’
‘You have any details?’
‘Not yet, still in the planning stage.’
‘Righto, let us know when you have more information.’
‘Hang on I haven’t finished yet. What’s your take on an armed robbery?’
‘How soon is this to take place?’
‘Imminent, that’s all I can say.’
‘I think maybe we should discuss this in person, how soon can you be at your safe place?’
‘As soon as you like, I need some guidance.’
‘Be there this evening.’ The line was disconnected.
Chapter 11
It was Warren’s first visit to the Beverley Road flat since making contact with Conway. The place felt cold, unlived-in, he turned on the gas fire and waited. He didn’t have to wait long before there was a knock on the door, he checked the door viewer, the distorted faces of John and Bob looked back.
He unlocked the door and let them in. ‘Good to see you Greg,’ Bob said as they entered.
‘John tells me you’re seeking advice?’
‘You could say that. Conway wants to rope me into an armed assault on a cash in transit van – that’s all,’
‘I don’t think we can allow that to happen,’ John said as he sat on a straight back dining chair. ‘Have you made coffee?’
‘Sorry for being an inhospitable host, but making you a brew was the last thing on my mind,’ he said sarcastically as he went through to the kitchen, filled and turned on the kettle.
‘Instant will be fine,’ John called back.
‘Bloody good, that’s all there is!’
Bob and John exchanged smiles.
‘Coffee,’ Warren placed three mugs down on the coffee table.’
‘Thanks very much Greg, I can’t function without my caffeine. Now, how much do you know about the operation?’
Warren sat down on the settee, leaning forward, forearms on his knees nursing his coffee mug in both hands. ‘At this moment very little, Conway reckons on basing the hit on my escape,
‘Look how are we going to play this, it isn’t as if I can refuse, it’s something the “real” Cole wouldn’t blink an eyelid at.’
‘As things stand there’s little we can do until you get confirmation of how and when this will happen.’
‘So that’s it then?’
‘Afraid so Greg,’ they stood up to leave. ‘Once you have more details then we can act accordingly.’
Bob and John abruptly left leaving Warren feeling out of his depth, and thinking it wasn’t supposed to be like this.
Chapter 12
Forty-eight hours after making contact and Warren was in it up to his neck. If truth was known, he was not a happy bloke, not one little bit – but what could he do about it? Sod all. Jimbo was picking him up at five o’clock, they reckoned that would give them plenty of time to get to the meet and check things out. Warren took advantage of the down time to reacquaint himself with the Sig, even though he hadn’t discharged the weapon since the firing range, he thought a strip down and clean couldn’t hurt. After all, best be prepared.
With still two hours to kill before Jimbo was picking him up, Warren took advantage of the down time and went through to the bedroom and lay on top of the duvet, staring up at the ceiling. Sleep didn’t come easy. He kept going over the what ifs until eventually he nodded off and managed an hour or so before waking up feeling like crap. A quick cold shower helped put some of the life back into him, followed by some strong black coffee.
Warren’s mobile rang twice and then there was a banging at the door, he checked the security viewer in the door. It was Jimbo. Sliding the bolts on the door was a knack, you had to ease them around a bit and give them a firm tug.
‘Bang on time mate,’ he said as he walked in, ‘go through.’
‘Shit,’ he cursed himself as they walked into the living room. He’d left the Sig on the table in full view.
‘For fuck’s sake man, that’s one serious shooter.’
Jimbo headed straight for the Sig.
‘I’d prefer it if you didn’t,’ said Warren grabbing Jimbo’s wrist firmly as his hand reached out. ‘Nothing personal.’
‘Whatever.’ He shrugged his shoulders. ‘You ready?’
‘Just finish dressing, then we’re away.’
It was too late now to pull out; even if he wanted too. He put on the shoulder holster complete with Sig and fastened the safety catch, all nicely concealed beneath his jacket. If he’d had the option he would have preferred to leave the weapon in the flat, but he would have put money on that he might not be the only one with a set of keys.
Watching Jimbo eyeing up the holster beneath his jacket, it looked as if he’d found some respect.
‘Right then mate, let’s get a shift on,’ Warren said slamming the door behind them. They took the evil smelling concrete stairs two at a time to the car park. The only vehicle besides Warren’s Fiesta was a dark blue Audi 4x4. ‘This Mick’s motor?
‘One of ’em, not too flashy but makes a statement. Right?’ He sounded proud.
‘Does that alright Jimbo.’ Then he noticed another body sat in the rear seats. He looked to be in his mid-twenties, hard face with a nice curved scar running from his left eyebrow to his lip, shaved head and dressed in denim. ‘Who the fuck is this? Mick never said anything about a passenger.’
‘Who the fuck you calling a passenger?’ Scar face answered back.
‘Come on Ray, get real, this is Billybob. You didn’t think I was doing this on me own?’ He kept his mouth shut. It made sense even if Warren didn’t like the look of him. If Conway rated the bloke he was bound to be good at whatever he was employed for.
‘What sort of bleedin’ name is Billybob?’ Warren laughed as he said it, keeping up the appearance of the hard man.
‘You’ll be laughing out of the other side of your fucking face in a minute,’ Billybob said.
‘Like you did? No offence meant.’
Warren leaned into the back of the vehicle, offering his hand.
‘Fuck off,’ he turned to look out of the window.
‘Please yourself…Billybob,’ he said keeping a straight face. Jimbo and Billybob he thought, what sort of crew was this?
Jimbo drove the Audi out of the tower block parking area and headed for the A63, the Clive Sullivan Way that followed the banks of the River Humber, under the Humber Bridge, onto the M62 and Goole, some thirty miles west.
‘You used it then?’ Jimbo asked.
‘Used what?’ Warren asked.
‘The shooter.’
‘When there wasn’t any other option,’ he lied.
‘Cool’.
‘What you got? asked Billybob.
‘Sig P226.’
‘Pass it here then,’ he said leaning between the front seats.
‘Fuck off, hillbilly.’ At least it produced a laugh out of Jimbo. Billybob kept quiet and sat back in his seat. ‘Jimbo, you had dealings with this team before?’
‘Once or twice. Should be three of them, the bloke we’ll be dealing with is one of their top dogs, Jack Spriggs, hard bastard.’
That was a name that wasn’t in Warren’s portfolio.
‘Who runs the show?’
‘Fucked if I know, just do as I’m told.’
It took just over half an hour to get to Goole. The lorry park wasn’t too far away from the docks. The small team did a quick drive past to get the lay of the land, a two storey building was to the left of the entrance – the café and drivers accommodation on the second floor. The shower block was adjacent. Jimbo turned the vehicle around and pulled up a couple of hundred metres short of the entrance and let Warren out. It was a big place, enough room for at least fifty rigs. The whole place was surrounded by a high wire-mesh security fence.<
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Posters and signs fixed to the fence claimed high security. Warren could see a couple of cameras high on poles, from the loose dangling electric feed wires he doubted very much that they worked. Nevertheless he made a mental note to keep out of their view as much as possible. All in all, the wire mesh surrounding the park was totally inadequate for any real security. Warren checked no one was looking and grabbed a flapping wire panel. After a couple of tugs it was loose enough to crawl under. He dropped to his knees and eased his body under the wire.
Commercial transport of all kind and nationalities were represented, articulated trucks from Poland, panel vans from Belgium and curtain sided vehicles from the UK, everything from everywhere. Warren walked around the inside of the perimeter, between, and in and out of the parked vehicles looking for anyone or anything a bit suss. Everything looked fine. He picked up the 4x4 again near the back fence, tucked out of view between a container truck and freezer lorry, well away from the café and drivers shower block.
The trimming knife in Warren’s pocket came in handy. He slit the plastic sheeting on a curtain-sided lorry and climbed in. He couldn’t see anyone nicking this one, it was full of bottles of bleach and drain cleaner, through the slit he had a pretty good view of the area. Jimbo and the hillbilly sat and waited in the car. Ten minutes later a big black Mercedes drove down the gravel road and stopped alongside the Audi. One big guy climbed out of the Mercedes, looked around and then walked around to the driver’s side of the Audi. Warren watched as Jimbo opened the car window. The guy stuck his head in and said something. The other two climbed out of the Mercedes and stood around the passenger side, big fellas. Warren felt he really needed to be in on this, Watcher or no Watcher. He jumped down from the truck and casually made his way over. As soon as he was within earshot the two passengers from the Mercedes blocked his way. They nearly blocked out the early evening sun they were so big. As Warren approached the four-wheel drive the flat of a hand knocked the breath out of him.
‘Whoa – man, where the fuck do you think you’re going?’