Killing Time

by John Kerr

  ‘Mr Bank Manager…Mr Bank Manager,’ said Bryant, shaking his head. ‘You taking the four of us on is a very stupid idea. You know, after we are finished with you, I’m going to cut you…I’m going to cut you so bad that every time your little Vicky looks at your ugly face she’ll remember me.’ He made a vicious slashing motion towards Jake.

  ‘Grab him!’ he screamed.

  The two on Jake’s left lunged forward. Jake hit the first guy with a right then a left quickly followed by a perfect uppercut which landed directly under the man’s chin. It lifted him straight off the ground and rendered him unconscious before his weight was back on his feet. Jake then stepped back and with a left hook caught number two on the side of his head. As the target stumbled to his left, Jake swept both his legs away. He kept his left leg going in a wide arc up into the air and brought it down with a heavy stamp on the guy’s face. Suddenly Jake felt two strong arms grab him from his right-hand side. He dropped his centre of gravity and half-rolled to his left. He spun round as he dropped, and pulled his target over the top of him. They fell back and, in the time it took for them to reach the ground, Jake had his right arm round the guy’s neck. He drove the top of the man’s head directly into the concrete. His cranium opened up like a squashed tomato.

  Without stopping Jake rolled over the body and straight up onto his feet. The whole episode lasted 28 seconds and Jake was now left facing Bryant. He studied him closely like a rattlesnake with a mouse. Jake could see the blade in his hand as it shook in the gloom. He never took his eyes from his final target as he took two steps forward.

  Almost there. The words rattled around in Jake’s head. He kept talking to himself. Knife in his left hand… perfect… chest height… even better.

  Suddenly Jake lashed out and the blow struck the back of Bryant’s hand. The sound of breaking bone was quickly followed by the noise from the knife as it crashed against the far-away wall and out of harm’s way. Jake immediately jumped forward and drove his left fist into his stomach quickly followed by a right then another left. Each blow moved up Bryant’s body and he floundered about like a rag doll. Jake grabbed Bryant round the throat with his right hand, forcing him back up against the wall. All went quiet as Jake squeezed.

  ‘Okay it’s done…Now, what I’m about to tell you, you had better make sure sticks inside that empty little head of yours. You have invaded my territory and I don’t like it…I don’t like it one little bit. You have come into my world and hurt a very, very special friend of mine. If I chose to, I could end your wasted little life right here and right now,’ Jake said, as he squeezed harder. ‘What I could do is close my hand completely and within two minutes I’d have stopped all the oxygen going to your brain. You’d start to feel all light-headed, it would start to get darker inside your head and you’d feel like you were falling asleep. Then you’d probably wet yourself as your self-control went completely. Finally, the lights in your head would go out one by one never to come on again… and to think all this could happen because you think you’re a wide boy. You and your buddies think you can treat people like something on the soles of your shoes. Well you can’t, and I’m here to make sure that if I do let you live - and I haven’t actually made my mind up on that one yet, but if I do - you and the rest of your so-called friends will stop being arseholes and start being decent members of this little community. Well, what do you think, dickhead? Do you think you and the rest of this pile of shit can turn over a new leaf?’ Jake squeezed even harder and could feel Bryant’s body gradually becoming heavier.

  ‘What do you say, mate, do you want me to let you live? Just nod your head and I’ll get the message.’ Jake felt his hand slowly move up and down. ‘Good lad,’ Jake said, as he released his grip and stepped back. Bryant crumpled into a heap, coughing and spluttering. Jake lowered his voice to a whisper as he crouched down beside him.

  ‘Let me give you a little word of warning… and this you better take notice of. If you ever find yourself anywhere near Vicky again and I hear that you said anything, and I mean anything, out of turn then I’ll come looking for you again. Only next time I’ll be in a real bad mood, and believe me, I can be an absolute bastard when I’m in a bad mood. So you just think on, mate. It’ll be far safer for you and your people if you just stay completely out of our way. Then there will be very little chance of us meeting up like this again and you guys ending up all covered in blood and in all this pain and discomfort. It also means I won’t have to come out on a horrible night like this and stand in the shadows waiting for you. Okay?’ Jake watched Bryant slowly nod his head.

  ‘Correct answer. Right, I’ll be off home now… hope I don’t catch you later,’ Jake said finally, as he patted the top of Bryant’s head. Getting to his feet, Jake turned and picked his way between the bodies lying in the alley. Slowly he made his way back to the entrance. Walking towards the light his pulse was normal and he breathing easy. He stopped and turned back. He could just make out the ghostly figure of Bryant lying propped up against the back wall. Jake raised his hand and pointed a finger back down the alley, and said just one word.

  ‘Remember.’

  Jake pulled the hood off his head and thrust it into his pocket as he stepped out into the brightly lit street.

  FIFTY

  It was Wednesday, and Jake had it in his head to be on the hills later that night. He needed no more information and he was eager to get in about it. He knew this one was going to be hard but he also know the people he was after had no idea he was coming for them. Once again Jake had the benefit of complete surprise on his side. Opening the curtains, he sat on the window ledge. His small bed-sit was no bigger than a single room and contained a double wardrobe and a small three-drawer chest. A portable television sat at the side of the small bed - it was not a lot to show for almost half a lifetime’s service given to your country.

  Jake lay down; he didn’t remember falling asleep but he certainly remembered waking up. The train rumbled through his head and he threw himself up off the bed and rushed into the bathroom. He pulled the light cord and light flooded the small room. Jake stooped over the wash hand basin, and then checked himself in the mirror. He was sweating profusely.

  ‘Shit!!!’ he called out to no one, as he doused himself with cold water.

  ‘I need to get out of here,’ he said out loud, and for a few seconds he hid his face in the towel. For the very briefest moment, the darkness gave him comfort. Again he stared at his own face in the mirror.

  ‘Fuck this.’

  Jake checked his watch 8.15 it said. He pulled the mobile phone from his pocket, punched Peter’s number in and held it to his ear. ‘It’s me,’ he yelled into it.

  ‘Can you drop me off? I want to get out of here now, get me in five.’

  Jake didn’t wait for an answer. He switched the phone off and threw it back into his pocket. Jake was in a hurry. Quickly he grabbed his gear, turned out the light and banged the door behind him. Jake had everything with him that he needed…everything except the small photograph of Vicky, which now lay on the floor at the side of his bed.

  Jake was filled with impatience as he waited for Peter outside his front door. He lasted only last five minutes before storming off in the direction he knew Peter would come from, and as he turned into the market square Jake saw the headlights flash as the 4x4 screeched to a halt. Throwing his gear in the back, he pulled the door open and jumped in.

  ‘Let’s go, Peter!’ Jake screamed.

  Peter didn’t reply. Instead he forced the vehicle into gear and sped off into the night. Switching on the music, Jake closed his eyes and lay back in the seat.

  ‘You okay, mate?’ Peter asked tentatively.

  ‘Yeah, that fucking train woke me again, right in the middle of a nice little sleep,’ he replied.

  Peter nodded slowly and said nothing for a few moments. Then he said,

  ‘Listen, Jake, there’s been a change of plan. Bob’s found Alpine Street; it’s a storage warehouse in the city cen
tre. It’s down by the river. The coastguards are tracking a boat and it looks like it will be here first thing tomorrow morning. But we don’t want to wait till it gets here. So how do you feel about delivering the warehouse first, and then I’ll drop you off at the brickworks?’ asked Peter,

  ‘Targets?’ asked Jake.

  ‘All he could find out is that there are at least two. He couldn’t find out about weapons, but we have to assume they are armed. It’s an old run down warehouse. There are building works going on all round, that’s why we don’t want to leave it till morning - the place will be crawling with workmen. We can be there in an hour. There’s a pistol and some equipment in the glove compartment.’

  Jake opened the glove box and removed the Browning 9mm pistol He quickly loaded it, unloaded it and then reloaded it once more, just to get the feel of the weapon.

  ‘What about people? Will the general public be wandering about, because I don’t like it when I’ve got to go to work in the city? I much prefer them to come to me.’

  Peter could hear the consternation in Jake’s voice.

  ‘No. The whole area is one large construction site, there’s not even a night-watchman to worry about. It’s well out of the way,’ said Peter, trying to reassure him.

  ‘Yeah, well let’s just get there as soon as possible. I’ve a feeling this night is going to turn into a little bit of an adventure,’ Jake replied.

  Peter manoeuvred the car out of the village and pushed his foot to the floor. The engine growled, fighting the road incline and they left the lights of Fenton behind. They twisted and turned through the small, unlit road and disappeared upward towards the hilltop and into the night.

  Driving alongside the river and passing beneath the large bridge, Peter peered into the gloom. ‘It should be second on the left,’ he said. Moments later they turned into Alpine Street and left the second-rate street lights behind.

  ‘Drive straight up to the top and let me take a look,’ Jake told Peter.

  It was a small, dimly-lit, side street. All the buildings had been demolished except a small wooden hut, which didn’t look unlike a scout hall. It sat halfway up on the right, directly opposite the warehouse. On the left-hand side there was a metal door with the words ‘NO ENTRY’ in large letters. The building itself was stone built with a large wooden door that sat on rollers and opened by sliding to the right. It had a small wicket door, which was heavily padlocked.

  Jake motioned to Peter to carry on driving as he checked out the far side of the building. On the right-hand side he noticed what looked like windows almost at ground level. They drove slowly past and stopped 100 metres beyond, on the same side of the road. It was a dead end. They waited… all was quiet.

  ‘Okay, here’s what we do. Turn the engine off and keep all the windows down. Take the handbrake off and slowly let the car roll back down the hill. Stop just before the building, keeping the side wall always in sight. I’m going in through one of those windows. I want you to listen for any noise after I go in. I’ll take a couple of charges with me, but I really don’t want to use them if I can help it. I’d like to keep this as quiet as possible. As soon as the shooting starts, swing the car round and get me on the opposite side of the street. I don’t want to hang around here any longer than I have to. Are you okay with that?’ Jake said quietly, as he lowered his window.

  Peter nodded, hardly believing how calm Jake appeared to be. He watched as Jake again checked his pistol and put three small explosive charges in his side pocket.

  ‘Okay, let’s go to work, mate,’ Jake said, as he glanced over his shoulder, never once taking his eyes off the building, which lay only 100 metres behind them. Jake turned to Peter just as he pulled at the handbrake and in the quietest of voices said,

  ‘No noise, Peter… Let’s just think the words.’

  Peter felt the adrenaline start to rush through his veins as he took his foot from the brake and the vehicle very slowly drifted backwards. There was no sound, not even from the street… Eighty metres… Fifty metres… Thirty metres… Ten metres… Five metres. Peter brought the car to a halt silently, almost parallel to the side wall. Jake swung the door open and without a sound stepped out onto the darkened street. He closed the car door without engaging the lock. He took three paces and stepped effortlessly into the shadows at the side of the dilapidated building. The area was overgrown with bushes and small trees and there was rubbish lying everywhere. Peter shook his head slowly. It’s going to be hard getting through that lot without making any noise, mate, he thought, as Jake suddenly disappeared from sight.

  Jake dropped quietly onto one knee and listened hard. There was no noise anywhere. Very slowly and carefully he picked his way up to the first window… bars… Shit! That’s not what we are looking for. Next window, more bars. He crept along to the third and final window… same… Fuck! Then, in the shadows Jake saw what looked like an old door. It was below ground level and had steps leading down to it. Without stopping he dropped down and forced his ear hard against the rotten wood. He could hear what sounded like music; it was very faint but it definitely sounded like music. Jake pressed his body weight against the old timber; it gave a little then gave no more. Experience told him that it was on its last legs and that it was never going to prevent him from getting inside. He pressed against it, this time with more conviction, while holding the door handle and suddenly it yielded. Jake prevented it from opening any more than a few centimetres; he held his breath and listened hard. Music sang out a little louder and slowly and silently he lifted his Browning up into the firing position and stepped inside. All was dark; instantly Jake found himself in the basement. He stopped and surveyed everything around. His eyes slowly grew accustomed to the dark surroundings and he identified a number of differently sized discarded boxes lying here and there. To his right, at the far end, was a stairwell, which looked like the only other way in or out. Very carefully Jake picked his way through the debris; at the bottom of the stairs he stopped and listened to the music, which had grown quieter.

  ‘Sounds like they are at the opposite end of the building… good,’ Jake said to himself. As he moved slowly upwards he kept to the right-hand side of the steps to avoid making any noise. There was no light coming from under the door; Jake gripped the handle and with the softest of touches he pushed the door and stepped quietly into a long dimly-lit hall. The hall headed down towards the large wooden front door. There were a number of doors off to the left but nothing to the right. The bottom of the second last door threw a small beam of light out along the floor and it immediately grabbed Jake’s attention. He quietly and methodically cleared every room, including the one at the right hand side of his target room. Eventually Jake stood outside the only room not cleared; he checked his spare magazines, three in number, clipped to the inside of his belt. He had in the past changed magazines in less than two seconds, and could do it with his eyes shut.

  He knew that in all probability behind the door in front of him would be his targets - at least two, but possibly more. Every now and then a job would come up where there was no way in except through the door and Jake wouldn’t know what was on the other side until he crashed through it. It was never the best option but just sometimes it was the only one. This was Jake at his very best. He was breathing easy, and felt good being back doing what he did so well. He also knew that he had thirteen rounds loaded and ready to deliver, however many targets were behind the door, a door that Jake knew would offer little resistance. He stepped back out into the hallway and lined himself up. Jake was directly in front of the offending obstacle, barely a full pace away. He wanted to make sure he would follow the door in as it swung open - he couldn’t afford for it to close back on him as he took aim.

  Jake very slowly and quietly inhaled a large breath of air as he glanced first left and then right. Everything remained quiet and still. Suddenly and without ceremony he took a half pace forward lifted his right leg and kicked. The door flew open and before it hit the wall he had st
epped inside. Half-left was the first target; the man was standing less than a metre from the back wall. Tap…tap…tap… ‘One,’ Jake said. The first round hit him just below the neck and Jake watched the bullets travel upwards. He saw the last one enter directly in the centre of the man’s head… the man slumped backwards, dead, and half of his brains splattered onto the back wall. A sudden movement to Jake’s right made him spin, the pistol spinning with him as they worked totally as one. Target two sitting in a large chair was in the process of getting to his feet… he never made it. Tap… tap… tap… ‘Two.’ The word came from Jake automatically. The rounds slammed into the man’s body and he gave a heavy groan as his life expired before Jake’s very eyes. His head slumped forward onto his chest and Jake stepped forward, moving all round the room checking for any others… everything was clear and the job was done. Ricardo Corseta and Nicolai Bestir lay dead.

  Without a backward glance Jake moved back out through the broken door, ran back along the hallway and down into the basement. He could see the little chink of light as it came in through the door he had left open and it now showed him the way out. Jake accepted it gladly as he slowly pushed his way back through the bushes and piles of rubbish. He had his right hand in his pocket, still with the loaded pistol tightly in his grip. It would stay there until he was well on his way; if there were any surprises in store for him he would be ready.

  Peter had the car exactly where Jake expected it to be, the door still as he had left it. He pulled it open and without any fuss jumped inside. Peter pulled away almost without the rev counter moving. Everything was as Jake liked it - quieter than quiet, even in the big city. They drove for a couple of kilometres or so before Peter spoke.