by Ezekiel King
Chris came back out of the McBride’s house as I got out of my jeep and locked it. “Come, let’s go,” I said to Chris as he walked towards me. I could see the confusion on Chris’ face as I locked my jeep. “What? You didn’t think I’m driving my car around with a gun, did you? Open your car, you fucking idiot,” I said as I walked towards the passenger seat of the 6L saloon. Chris got into the driver’s seat and started the engine. I told him, “If police try and stop us, take them on a straight road and blow them. Then turn a corner, so I can throw this gun out of the car,” I explained. The German saloon we were in was powerful enough to lose any police car on a straight road. 6.5L of German engineering.
“Okay, where are we going though?” Chris asked as he pulled off the kerb from outside of the McBride’s house.
“If you don’t know where Morris is, then take me to his friend’s house,” I said angrily. I had picked the Glock up and tucked it under my waistband before getting out of my jeep. Having a loaded Glock in a 6.6 V 12 supercar, I felt untouchable. I had not a care in the world; the adrenaline having a loaded gun on me made me know, if I saw Morris, I would not hesitate to shoot him three or four times without a seconds thought.
We drove past a police car, and the police did not even look at us. Idiots, I thought as I watched them disappear in the rear view mirror. Ten minutes later, we drove into the council estate that Morris’ friend lived on. Morris’ friend was a mixed-race guy in his mid-30s called Mark. Mark sold a kilo of cocaine every week and had bought that kilo of cocaine from Chris, he’d also bought drugs off Chris before through Morris, who was Mark’s very close friend. “Chris…all I want you to do is knock the door. I will do the rest!” I said as I prepared to get out of the car. I could feel my heart rate increase as I fought to control my nerves. My stomach turned, but I wasn’t scared; it was more anxiety. Turning back hadn’t even crossed my mind. “Come on, let’s go,” I said as I opened my car door. “Hurry the fuck up,” I said to Chris as he walked towards the door at his normal pace. Chris knocked Mark’s door. I kept my hands in my pocket, so nobody would see I was wearing gloves.
Mark looked out of the living room window to see Chris and me at his door. Mark came to the door and opened it. “Are you okay, lads?” Mark said as he tried to remain calm, like he had no idea in the world why Chris and I were at his front door.
“Are you okay, Mark? Could we have a little chat?” I asked pleasantly.
“Yes, what’s up?” Mark asked.
“Can we come inside, I don’t want to talk on your doorstep,” I asked as though he had been rude not to invite us inside.
We followed Mark through to the living room where he had one of his friends waiting for him. As Mark sat on the sofa, I reached into my waistline and pulled out the 9mm-loaded Austrian pistol. “Don’t you move, or I will blow your fucking head clean off,” I grunted as I pointed the gun at Mark’s face. Mark’s jaw had dropped into his lap in shock as his eyes widened in terror. “Or you! You just stay there, or I will paint the walls red with the contents of your fat head,” I snarled as I flashed the gun from Mark to his friend’s face and back to Mark. “Cyrus, why are you doing this?” Mark pleaded as he sat looking into my eyes terrified.
“Where’s that fat cunt, Morris? If you can answer that correctly, I might only shoot you both once each; if you can’t, then I’m going to empty the clip in you and your mate, then I will wait for your missus and children, and do the same to them,” I growled at Mark.
“He was here earlier to drop some stuff off, but he’s moved house recently, and I don’t know where his new house is, but I can find out,” Mark pleaded.
“What stuff?” I asked.
“A kilo of cocaine,” Mark replied. I walked over to Mark and pressed the barrel of my gun firmly against his eyebrow.
“Where is the kilo of cocaine now, Mark?” I asked slowly putting emphasis on every word.
“In the kitchen drawer, next to the sink,” Mark answered.
“Chris, go and get my cocaine,” I said as I nodded at Chris to get his fat arse moving.
“Where is my other kilo of cocaine that Morris stole from my worker this morning, Mark?” I said while still holding the gun pressed firmly against Mark face.
“I don’t know, mate. If I had it, I would definitely give it you. I don’t want to get shot,” Mark replied. I pulled the gun back six to eight inches and thrust it forward into Mark face with all my might. It was a calculated vicious attack, as it was a precise blow to Mark’s eyebrow. The flesh that had been Mark’s eyebrow split instantly as the barrel of my gun ripped through his flesh, exposing the bone above his eye. Mark screamed in pain as he cowered up to protect himself.
I didn’t smile as Chris waved one of our stolen kilos of cocaine at me. I was too zoned-out to smile; Morris still had one! “Mark, show me where Morris lives, and I will let you and your mate stay alive. If you don’t, then you both are dead,” I said angrily.
“I will show you, Cyrus, just tell me what you want me to do?” Mark pleaded as the blood started to drip onto the laminate wooden-flooring from the gash above Mark’s eye. The severity of the blow had made a third of Mark’s face deformed with the swelling instantly—a flap of flesh was clearly visible.
“You two are coming with Chris and me; then when you show me where Morris lives, you can go. If any of you two try any funny business, I give you my word that I would murder the pair of you! I also give you the same word; if you show me where this cunt lives, I will let you both go without injuring either of you any further,” I said while still pointing my gun at Mark, then his friend and back at Mark.
“We will not try anything, Cyrus,” Mark replied in compliance.
“And what about you? Are you feeling brave?” I said as I aimed the pistol at Mark’s friend’s face.
“It’s nothing to do with me, mate. I just came to get a gram of cocaine,” Mark’s friend said as he looked at me full of fright.
“Okay, let’s go then. Mark, you sit in the back with me, and I’ll sit behind your mate who will be sitting in the passenger seat,” I said signalling everybody to get up. I was the last person to leave Mark’s house, and I locked the door before following the group to the car.
I opened the car door and slipped my phone out of my pocket. I still had the loaded Glock in my right hand. I didn’t care about Mark’s neighbours or anyone else that had anything to say. I was in ‘act first and think later’ mode. “If any of you two makes a sudden move, I’m going to start squeezing this trigger; so everyone, stay calm and relaxed,” I said as I held the gun in my left-hand facing towards Mark, who was on my right in the back of the car. In my right hand, I held my phone to my ear. “I’m with a guy who knows where this Morris guy lives. I’ve got a kilo of cocaine back; so if you want to go come over and fuck this guy up, then I am happy to wait for you and L to come over,” I said to Yax as he answered. I didn’t want to use Luke’s name, in case Mark told the police, or his friend told the police.
“Yes, we will come over, has the guy still got a kilo of your cocaine?” Yax asked.
“Yes, the guy who stole two kilos still has one, you and Luke can keep that if you get it. I just want him stabbed up or shot,” I said still annoyed at the fact I hadn’t caught up with Morris yet.
“Okay, text me a postcode, and we will be in Coventry in half an hour,” Yax said in his Birmingham/Asian accent. I cut the phone off and placed it onto my lap.
“So, where does Morris live then, Mark?” I asked as I sat next to Mark, pointing the gun at his midsection.
“I will have to call him and ask him. I know it’s in an area called ‘Coundon’ somewhere, but I’m not sure where exactly. I would have to call him,” Mark replied. I believed Mark; he was holding his eyes to stop the bleeding, and I could tell he just wanted to comply and get himself out of this situation as soon as possible. “Cyrus, Morris is not my friend if he is going to get people coming around my family house with guns. I don’t even want anything to
do with him ever again after this,” Mark said as he sat bleeding and scared. We devised a plan for Mark to find Morris’ address while we drove to a public park’s car park.
The plan was to wait for my friends from Birmingham (Yax and Luke), then Mark would called Morris and say he needs another nine ounces of cocaine. If Morris asked him if he’s heard anything from Chris or me, Mark would tell him ‘no’. When Morris gives his location to Mark, my mates will make forced entry to the house or flat. When Morris is bleeding to death, I would drop Mark and his friend home.
“Sorted then?” I asked Mark.
“Yes, deal, I don’t want any trouble with you, Cyrus. You are driving around in a £50,000 saloon with a loaded handgun. I am not stupid, and Morris deserves whatever he has coming to him for messing with you,” Mark said as he analysed the situation.
“Yes, Mark, I would rather be out shopping or having a cocktail or a joint somewhere, but when people start trying to rob £40,000 from me, I have to put the cocktails down and pick the guns up, my friend,” I explained still holding the gun pointed towards Mark as I rested my hand on my lap. We had sent the postcode for the car park we were sat in to Yax. The four of us sat waiting. The adrenaline I had in Mark’s house had faded from my bloodstream, leaving lactic acid that was now making me feel somewhat at ease. I didn’t allow myself to relax too much though, as I still had a loaded gun on my lap, pointed at one of the two hostages in my car.
Having been so angry in Mark’s living room had taken a lot of energy from me, and I almost felt like leaning back on the seat and going to sleep, like the calm after the storm, but I couldn’t do that yet as the storm hadn’t passed. I decided to stay one hundred percent alert with the knowledge that Morris would soon be dead or fighting for his life, then I would relax. I watched as a black saloon turned into the car park. I had been keeping a close eye on the coming and going of any car, in case the police turned into the car park. The black saloon drove around the car park before parking next to our white saloon. Luke was driving, and Yax was in the passenger seat. I opened the car door to get out. “You lot stay in the car,” I said as I got out to speak to Yax. There was a big black guy in the back that was dark-skinned and built like a house; he looked scary. I stood by the black saloon and explained the whole scenario, leaving nothing out, from Chris giving Morris two kilos of cocaine, to taking Mark and his friend hostage, ending with the plan of Mark calling Morris.
“Okay, when you get the address, we will follow you there; then leave it with us,” Luke said.
“What do you want us to do to Morris after we take whatever money and cocaine he has?” Yax asked.
“I want him either shot or put in a wheelchair for the rest of his life; so if anybody even thinks about doing anything like this again, they will think thrice first!” I said as I turned to get back into my white saloon.
“Make the call then, Mark, and make it good,” I said as I sat back down, gun still in hand.
“What phone number are you calling, because his phone has been off all day?” Chris asked
“He gave me a new number today,” Mark replied as he began to make the call. The car was silent inside as Mark held the phone to his ear. He had dried blood smeared over his cheeks and chin, blotches of blood had dripped into Mark’s T-shirt, leaving coin-sized circles of dry blood soaked into the material.
“Yes, Morris…”
“Morris, I need another nine ounces if you have got them; my friend wants to buy them now.”
“No, I don’t want to give it out of my kilo. I will not make any profit, because my friend only wants to pay what you charged me.”
“Morris, I don’t want him to know that I’ve got a kilo of cocaine because he owes me one ounce; so if I get him to get the cocaine from you, he will have to give me the ounce he owes me.”
“No, Chris hasn’t called me. Why?”
“Okay, give me the address, and I will get my friend to drop me to your house.” This was the side of the conversation I had heard before Mark put the phone down. “It’s 180 Hall Green Road,” Mark said as he put the phone back into his pocket.
“Is he there now?” I asked.
“Yes, he said to come now,” Mark replied. I got out of my white saloon to relay the message to Yax and Luke and the abnormally big black guy in the back.
I had been told that when we get near to Morris’ house, I should park around the corner. Luke would go to the door with Mark, then Yax and the big black guy would go straight in after Luke had pushed Morris back inside his house. “He is a big guy, Luke,” I said at the thought of Morris being pushed back inside his house.
“I will shoot him in the head if he messes about,” Luke said as though me thinking he couldn’t handle Morris was ludicrous.
“Okay, follow us,” I said as I turned to get back into the white saloon.
“Chris, drive to this silly bastard’s house,” I said as Chris started the powerful saloon. On route, I told Mark what I wanted him to do.
“Morris is going to kill me for this,” Mark had said in reply.
“Morris will be lucky if he can walk after this; and like you said, it’s his fault you are here. You’re just making sure you get home to your family safely,” I explained.
180 Hall Green road was a flat in a five-storey block of flats. Flat 180 was on the top floor, which as Luke said, makes it impossible for Morris to escape ‘unless he can fly’, Luke had said before laughing hysterically.
Luke and Mark walked into the flats, closely followed by Yax and the big black guy, whose back was the size of a small dining room table. They planned for Mark to knock the door, and Luke barge his way in at gunpoint. By the time Luke was in, Yax and the big black guy would also be inside Morris’ house. Mark would then return to the white saloon, so Chris and I could drop him and his friend home. The time was 4:30 p.m. on a Friday afternoon, not the best time for this sort of thing, but Morris’ violation had made us throw caution to the wind.
Chris and I sat with Mark’s kidnapped friend silently as we waited. We were parked at the side of the block of flats in case Morris looked over the balcony or out of his window and saw the white saloon that Chris had drove to meet him earlier in the day. I kept my window open to listen for gunshots. I heard nothing.
Ten minutes after getting out of the car, Mark came running back to our white saloon. Mark looked just as scared as he had been when he had first had my gun pointed at him in his living room. Mark had ran to the car and opened the back door and jumped in.
“Drop me off, it’s done,” Mark blarted out as he waved his hands towards Chris to drive.
“Did they get him?” I asked calmly.
“Yes, Morris is in a bad way; they said drop me off and then meet them where you arranged,” Mark said as he panicked profusely. Chris started the white saloon and pulled off slowly.
“Are you sure that they got him?” I asked again.
“Got him? I think that they have killed him,” Mark said as he sat looking at me shaken by what he had just seen.
“Calm down, and tell me exactly what happened,” I said slowly.
“I knocked the door. When Morris answered his door, that stocky white guy came from behind me and punched Morris in the face with a knuckle-duster; then the other two ran into the house, pushing me into the house with them. They then beat the shit out of Morris and tied him and his girlfriend up. I saw that black guy stab Morris; then they told me to go,” Mark explained as he visualised what he had just seen.
“What did they tie him up with?” I asked.
“Zip ties, the black guy had them, and a Rambo knife,” Mark replied as he held his head in his hands.
As I smiled widely, I felt a large weight lift from my shoulders. “Do you see what happens when people fuck with me, Mark?” I asked as I smiled, realising Morris had got his comeuppance before the sun had set.
“Yes, I know, Cyrus; he is mad for trying to rob from you,” Mark agreed.
“How do you know the black
guy stabbed Morris?” I asked eager to hear all the information I could.
“Because I saw him do it; that black guy is evil,” Mark replied. Chris parked the car back outside the house that we had kidnapped Mark and his friend from.
“You both were not with us today. If I hear different, you know what will happen. Next time you want a kilo of cocaine, call Chris directly, okay, Mark?” I said as I warned them both before they got out of my car.
“Chris, let’s get this gun out of the car now,” I said as we pulled off once more. The relief of knowing Morris had now been taught a lesson had brought me back to reality. It was like my ego had been fed, my pride had been restored, bringing me back to rationality. “Let’s go back to my car, and I will leave the gun in this car while we go and meet my mates by my house in the jeep,” I told Chris as we drove from Mark’s back towards the McBride’s. I left the loaded handgun under the passenger seat of the white saloon and got back into the driver’s seat of my jeep.
“Cyrus, do you think that they killed Morris?” Chris asked as we started the short drive to my parents’ house.
“I hope so,” I replied emotionlessly. If I’m honest, I did hope they had killed him, as long as I wouldn’t get arrested for it. As we made the right turn into a dead-end outside of my parent’s house, I saw the black saloon was already parked outside my parent’s house.
I parked quickly and got out, as I did, three of the four doors opened on the black saloon. Chris and I walked towards Yax, Luke and the big black guy. “Did you get him?” I ask Yax, who was wearing a black tracksuit with a black skullcap.
“Yes, he is finished. My mate stabbed him and sliced his Achilles tendons, so he will never walk properly again. It’s at the back above your ankle,” Yax explained as he smiled, clearly impressed with his friends handiwork.
“And we got a kilo of cocaine and £10,000 from him,” Luke added as he smiled with his usual bright smile.