Dead of Night [Full Book]

by Paul J. Teague

  ‘It’s Michael – Mikey. Please don’t hurt me. I’ll give you anything you want.’

  ‘Stand up, you motherfucker!’ Stefan commanded, and Mikey did his best to comply. Stefan held his gun to Mikey’s head.

  There was a movement close to the fire exit. It was Lucy, looking pale and shocked by what she’d witnessed. She looked across at Jack and pointed towards the fire exit. He nodded, holding up his hand for her to wait a moment.

  ‘What is it you want from me?’ he said.

  They knew he was in there now, but what could he do? He had to consider Mikey too, he’d seen what these people were capable of.

  Arne began to move towards the source of the voice, but Stefan told him to wait.

  ‘We need to speak to you, Jack. You’re a difficult man to get an appointment with. You have caused us a lot of trouble tonight.’

  ‘Let Mikey walk out of here, then we can talk. He’s no part of this.’

  There was a moment of silence. Jack dared not look above the shelving to see what was happening.

  ‘Please, let me go. I won’t tell anybody. Please, my foot hurts, let me go.’

  Jack heard the sickening sound of Stefan’s gun handle strike the side of Mikey’s head. He screamed out.

  ‘Behave like a man!’ Stefan sneered. ‘Walk over to the door.’

  Jack heard Mikey limping towards the entrance.

  This time Arne spoke.

  ‘Okay, Jack, when you step forward, Mikey walks out of the door.’

  Stefan was moving up the aisle towards Jack’s hiding place. He’d have to make his play soon. If he was manoeuvred towards the first row of shelving, he’d be too far from Lucy and the exit.

  ‘Stay where you are, Stefan. I’m going to stand up slowly. When I stand up, you let Mikey walk, then we talk, okay?’

  ‘Alright, Jack, have it your way. I am stopping now and I am placing my gun on the shelf. Arne, you know what to do.’

  Jack looked at Lucy. Her eyes were urging him to be careful. Jack held out his hand warning her not to do anything yet.’

  ‘Okay, Stefan. I’m standing up. Now let Mikey go.’

  When death comes, it can come in the blink of an eye. With Jack now out in the open, Arne and Stefan struck quickly, a well-oiled machine. For Jack the horror seemed to play out in slow motion.

  Mikey’s hand was resting on the door handle – he thought his ordeal was over. Arne raised his gun to Mikey’s head, pulled the trigger and blew the top of his head off.

  Stefan was primed and ready. He hurled himself towards Jack. Lucy called out to warn him, giving him just enough time to raise the can of de-icer that he was holding and spray it in Stefan’s face.

  Lucy pushed down the bar on the fire exit. It opened out onto the back of the building.

  ‘Jack, over here. Hurry!’

  His face splashed with blood and brain, Arne levelled up his gun and pointed it directly at Lucy. She turned to face her killer.

  Stefan was thrashing around on the floor, trying to locate Jack with one hand, rubbing his eyes with the other.

  ‘Lucy, run!’ Jack screamed at her. Arne was going to kill his wife. They had no intention of sparing her, it was him they were after.

  There was a flash from Arne’s gun as he fired at Lucy. At the very same moment his chest exploded into a mess of red, the glass in the door shattering.

  Lucy screamed as the bullet whisked past her, splintering the glass of the fire exit. Jack turned to kick Stefan in the face. He was only wearing trainers, there was limited damage that he could do to a man of Stefan’s size, but it was enough to keep him down for a few moments longer. He grabbed Stefan’s gun and looked over towards the broken glass from the shop door. Arne’s body was now lying on the floor on top of Mikey. Outside stood a big, burly figure. He strode into the shop.

  ‘Fuck these arseholes, can’t a man get a wee drop of petrol around here?’

  It was Calum. And he’d decided to show his face just in the nick of time.

  ‘Calum, this way!’ Lucy shouted.

  She was watching Stefan. He was now unarmed, but he was a powerful man, and a determined one too. They would be no match for him.

  Jack rushed up to Lucy, inspecting her as if he couldn’t quite believe that she was unscathed. Calum stepped over the two bodies and struck Stefan on the head with the stock of his shotgun. He slumped to the ground.

  ‘There are lots of them, I counted another five, they’re like ants,’ Calum said, barely drawing breath, ‘too many for us to take on. They’re in the café and the forecourt, making sure yer not hiding oot there. There’s some poor lorry driver taken a bullet. I thought it was you.’

  They went out of the fire exit into the night, moving towards the darkness at the back of the building. There were industrial bins there, contained within a brick enclosure, far enough away from the buildings to provide a temporary hiding place. They ducked in behind the bins. From there they could see that the vans had been left in the car park, their doors wide open.

  ‘What happened to you, Calum? You didn’t meet up with us when we’d got the quad bike,’ said Jack.

  ‘I managed to shake off the two laddies who followed us across the river. And it was me who bought yer tha time to get oot o’there when yer walked oot right in front o’them by the gate, yer wee dobber. And I can tell yer that Rosa is pissed with us. I’ve spent time in Glasgow and I never heard language like that. What’s all this aboot? They keep saying yer name.’

  There was a shuffling noise behind them. Calum’s hand moved to the knife attached to his belt. It was a middle-aged woman wearing an apron. She’d taken refuge at the rear of the building too. There weren’t many other options for staying hidden.

  ‘Are you okay? What’s your name? Can you tell us what happened in there?’ asked Lucy.

  ‘I’m Erica,’ the woman said. ‘I was having a cigarette and checking my phone out the back when I heard a loud bang. They killed him, they killed Travellin’ Bill. He’s a lorry driver, he owns that lorry in the car park. He comes in here for an early breakfast before heading over to Hull on his weekly run. He’s done it for years ... and now look at him!’

  She began to cry. Lucy put her arm around the woman’s shoulders trying to quieten her.

  ‘Did you hear what they wanted?’ Jack asked.

  ‘I didn’t hang around,’ Erica sobbed. ‘They didn’t see me. They didn’t know I was there. I was waiting for them to leave. Then I heard more shots.’

  ‘That was me,’ said Calum, ‘but I’m shooting the bad guys, dinna worry. And ta think I was hoping to come home with a couple o’ wee rabbits or some pheasants, a deer if I got lucky. I’ve been poaching those woods for years but I’ve ne-er seen the like of this before. A couple of those wee bassas were oot in the woods a week or two previous. I wondered what they were up to – assumed it was drugs.’

  ‘This has to be connected with Aberdeen, Jack. What are you doing up there? You’ve pissed someone off,’ said Lucy.

  Jack had remembered Mikey’s mobile phone and was nursing it back into life.

  ‘For fuck’s sake!’

  ‘What now?’

  ‘It’s bloody fingerprint recognition. The phone is on, but I can’t use it.’

  ‘You’ll be able to make an emergency call, won’t you?’

  Jack checked the screen again.

  ‘You’re right, Lucy, nice one. There’s still a crap signal though. One bar.’

  ‘You won’t get a decent signal here,’ said Erica, who was now calmer.

  ‘Here, take mine, but it’ll be no better than Mikey’s. There’s a phone in the kitchen and one by the tills. Landlines. They’re a better bet up here.’

  Jack took the phone and saw that she was right, it was no use right now. He put it in his pocket, looking to Erica to get her approval. She nodded, relieved that someone else was around to sort things out. Jack tucked Mikey’s phone away to the side of the wall, the police would want to see that later, no doubt
.

  ‘Where are the nearest police here?’

  Calum and Erica snorted in unison.

  ‘Twenty miles away at least,’ said Calum. ‘We haven’t had proper policing around these parts fer years. Why do yer think I’m oot poaching? It’s rich pickings fer all.’

  Calum held out his shotgun. It reminded him to reload. It was no threat to automatic weapons, his gun was for hunting animals, not men. He expertly placed two cartridges in the chambers and snapped shut the barrel.

  ‘Just in case,’ he said. ‘Yer saw what two barrels did to oor friend back there.’

  ‘I have Stefan’s gun,’ said Jack, ‘but I’m not sure I could even use it anyway.’

  ‘You might have to,’ said Lucy. ‘Look, they’re regrouping. There’s that Rosa bitch. How many of them? I count six.’

  The four of them strained to get a look into the car park. It was difficult to tell at that distance.

  ‘What about that lorry driver?’ said Lucy.

  ‘What aboot him?’ Calum asked, looking into the distance, worried at what was being planned over in the car park.

  ‘Could we escape in his lorry? Or what about your van, Calum?’

  ‘I left it way back up th’road. No way I was announcing ma arrival.’

  ‘A lorry will be harder to drive than that bloody quad bike,’ Jack interrupted. ‘Erica, do you have a car?’

  ‘No, I don’t. My husband drops me off and picks me up. Mikey’s car is out there in the car park, though.’

  ‘We can’t get to Mikey’s body to grab his keys. There’s too much glass in the shop window, they’ll see us from a mile off. How about we try to get Travellin’ Bill’s lorry keys?’

  A short distance away from them on the tarmac their hunters were splitting off into search groups.

  ‘Come on, Calum. You and I can creep round the back and into the café.’

  ‘What about us?’ said Lucy, indignant that she was being excluded.

  ‘You need to rest your ankle,’ Jack replied. ‘You and Erica can take Calum’s shotgun and we’ll have the handgun – it’ll make them duck for cover if nothing else.’

  Lucy nodded and took Mikey’s phone. Calum quickly showed them how to cock and uncock the shotgun.

  ‘Yer’ve got two chambers, ladies, two shots maximum. These wee things make a mess close up. Good luck!’

  Jack hugged Lucy. She hesitated for a moment before responding. She’d felt isolated for so long that she’d almost lost the instinct to be close to his body.

  The two men began to move through the darkness towards the open kitchen door. They could see it as soon as they emerged from the bins, the back of the café was unlit, it was easy enough to get there. They heard voices, the area beyond the buildings was now being searched.

  As Calum and Jack neared the kitchen door, the area flooded with a bright light. Damn, a movement sensor. They’d have to take their chance and go in anyway. The damage was done now, they’d have to hope that nobody saw it.

  The kitchen was brightly lit. There was a large deep fat fryer gently bubbling away alongside the wall. A large metal catering bowl was full of batter. Erica had been in the middle of preparing food for the day ahead. All the clutter of a working catering environment was ranged along the worktops.

  Carefully, quietly, the men made their way through the kitchen to the door to the café. All was quiet. They appeared to be alone. Jack gasped when he saw Bill’s body. He was slumped over his fry-up, a newspaper on the table bright red with his blood.

  ‘Stay here, Calum. Take the gun, keep an eye on both doors.’

  He kept low, crawling along the floor for the second time that evening. He didn’t want to risk being seen through the windows, it was like a goldfish bowl in there with all the lights on.

  He made his way over to Bill’s body, repulsed by the sight of his corpse. He wanted to scream seeing the old man like that. He felt in his pockets: matches, cigarettes, tissues. Finally, the keys. He’d expected them to be bigger. He had no knowledge of lorries, he hoped that Calum would know what to do. He seemed like the kind of man who might.

  ‘I’ve got them,’ he whispered. ‘Everything still clear?’

  Calum raised his thumb to indicate that all was well. Crouching low, Jack made his way across the café. Back in the safety of the kitchen, he held the keys up for Calum to see.

  ‘Okay, we need to create a distraction. I take it you know how to drive that thing?’

  Calum nodded.

  ‘I used ter drive them for a living years ago. It’s been some time, mind you. But aye, I’m sure I can get us oot of here. If I screw it up, ma van is parked up along the hard shoulder. We can always switch vehicles if we make it that far—’

  ‘Shh!’ said Jack. He had heard a click. Was it the safety catch of a gun being released?

  The sensor light outside the kitchen door had just been triggered once again. They were not alone. There was someone outside and they were about to walk straight into them.

  7

  They had no alternative but to hide. There was no way they could fight this man. If they fired the gun, the others would descend on the café in no time.

  Calum climbed into a metal locker which contained some chef’s whites and what must have been Erica’s coat. He pulled the door as close as he could, leaving a slight gap so that he could keep an eye on what was going on. He felt naked without his shotgun, but did have his hunting knife in its sheath. It would make a quieter kill if it came to that.

  Jack couldn’t conceal himself so easily. Looking around frantically for a space to hide, he ended up having to squeeze behind a hot cupboard, which was the only solid object in the room that wasn’t pushed against a wall.

  A man walked warily into the kitchen, expecting trouble. Jack hardly dared to breathe. He edged towards the side of the metal unit, getting a fix on the man’s whereabouts. It was Blake. He was built like a brick shit house, there was no other way to describe him. The people hunting them, whoever they were, appeared to be grouped. There’d been Arne and Stefan and Blake and Tanner. Two Germans and two guys from the UK. He’d heard someone use the name Johnson too, he was one of them. Then there was Rosa and the older man who seemed to be in charge. She worked alone.

  Tanner had gone floating down the river, and Arne’s innards were now decorating the walls of the shop. That left Stefan, who’d been rendered unconscious with the butt of Calum’s rifle. There had been more people than that in the car park. How many were there? Jack did a count in his head: Rosa, Blake and Stefan made three, but there had been six of them in the shadows of the car park.

  Blake was moving cautiously, although he’d been careless enough to leave off his ski mask. Maybe they’d scoped the place and made sure there was no CCTV. He made a quick assessment of the area, checking the café too to be sure that he was on his own. He was distracted by the food. It had to have been almost 3am, Jack had lost track of the time. Blake picked at some sandwich fillings that had been left covered in cellophane on one of the counters.

  Jack silently moved back behind the hot cupboard, watching in horror as Blake approached Calum’s hiding place. He was going to open the door. Could Calum see what was happening?

  Suddenly he heard a crackling noise, a walkie talkie. It was a voice Jack hadn’t heard before, older and self-assured, with a German accent. This man was in charge. His English was good, but he was German, Jack was certain of that. He listened to their exchange.

  —How is the kitchen area, Blake? Are you clear?

  —I’m running a final sweep. There is no one here, only the dead guy in the café. You want me to clean things up before we go?

  —Nein. No. Just be certain Dawson is not there. I want him alive and unharmed, you understand?

  —That might be difficult, this bastard is putting up a bit of a fight. How about his wife, you still want her dead?

  —Keep her alive for now, we may need her to apply more pressure. Once we have him, she’s useless to us. T
he others – kill them. I don’t want any tracks left. There’s no CCTV here, only over the petrol pumps. Johnson has sorted that out.

  —How long have we got, boss? Six o’clock we fly, yes?

  —No delays, we have to fly out at 06:30. It’s going to be tight. Don’t fuck this up, Blake.

  What did they want? Jack scoured his mind for clues. He was tech, not research or product development. He knew pharmaceuticals was big money, but he was a tiny part of the project.

  Blake had finished the call and was placing the walkie-talkie in its holder. He hadn’t forgotten that locker. If he opened the door, Jack would have to act. He still had the handgun. He scanned the area, the sound of the gun firing would only bring the others running, there was no way he could shoot.

  There was a large sharp kitchen knife over by the sandwich meats where Blake had been picking at the food. It was to the side of the fryer. If Blake discovered Calum, he could run to it and use it in any fight. There was no way they were taking Blake down without a weapon. He was twice the size of them, his arms bulging with muscle, his neck as thick as a tree trunk.

  Jack silently cursed as Blake readied his gun and swung the locker door open with his free hand. Calum didn’t give him a moment to think. He had his hunting knife at the ready, he’d gently eased it from its sheath as Blake had been on the walkie-talkie. He’d gone out for a quiet night’s poaching, but instead of being the hunter, he had become the hunted. And now he was fighting for his life. He thrust his knife right through Blake’s gun hand.

  ‘Fuck!’

  Blake screamed and the gun fell to the floor.

  Jack got hold of the kitchen knife from the worktop. They had to take this predator down stealthily, like wolves hunting at night.

  Blake was quick to recover, he knew the score here. It was kill or be killed. He thrust his left hand towards Calum’s neck, squeezing his throat with such a force that he dropped the knife.

  Jack moved towards Blake. Calum’s face was bright red, he had no air. Blake had done this before, his victim was paralysed and fighting for breath. He slammed the door of the locker shut, never loosening his grip on Calum, pushing his victim against the metal door, sliding him upwards so that his feet were no longer on the ground.