by David McLeod
‘I agree,’ Elwood replied, ‘but I think I can do better. I happen to know where his guys live, so I’ll do a little snooping and be sure.’
‘Fine, but don’t spend too long there — I’m not paying you to holiday in LA.’ Elwood’s boss rang off leaving him to stew a little at his ingratitude.
Chapter 22
Corvettes, Dodges, and Cadillacs filled the panel beater’s garage, all in various stages of undress from the almost perfect to the virtually unrecognizable. Car panels, doors, and bumpers leaned against work benches and ramps, and the toxic smell of paint fumes hung in the air, coating the visitors’ throats.
‘This was really a great idea of yours,’ Vince said to his partner as they walked around the freshly painted car. The car had been sprayed bright yellow by the paint shop owner, one of their less than legitimate friends, and they stood back and watched as he finished the job by stenciling on some ID tags and attaching a lightbox to the roof.
‘What do you think guys? Will she do?’ the panel beater asked as he went and stood beside them.
‘A perfect replica of an LA cab, outstanding work, I’d hail it myself,’ Scott replied, smiling as he admired the car.
‘We owe you one,’ Vince followed, slapping the panel beater on the back.
‘Nah, this one’s on me, guys, happy to return the favor.’
The two partners knew what he was referring to. Over the years, they’d handled a number of jobs that required immediate attention. It seemed some stolen cars were never meant to be recycled or recovered intact. They never questioned the reasons, just did their job.
‘Thanks again,’ they both replied.
‘Where to, guv’nor?’ Scott asked in his best Cockney/English.
‘Home, James,’ Vince announced from the back seat. ‘Hey, I could get used to this,’ he joked as his partner smiled.
‘Don’t get too comfortable back there; this is for one job only!’
They drove back to the house with Vince sitting in the rear like a paying passenger.
Pulling up to the house, Vince crouched down to be out of sight as Scott flicked the garage door remote and they drove straight into the garage. They wouldn’t normally bring a car they were going to use for a job back to the house, but these were not normal circumstances. They let the door close behind them before Vince sat up. Should any of their neighbours be watching, seeing a cab drive into their garage would appear odd, but seeing it pull in with a passenger on board would, no doubt, arouse too much suspicion.
They entered the house, and Vince went to check on the explosives while Scott went to check on Joshua.
‘How you doing, kid?’ he asked.
Joshua was in the room playing with his Playstation PSP. They’d confiscated the game after finding it in his pocket when they initially frisked him. He’d complained, but the duct tape over his mouth had solved that problem. After the office job, Joshua had asked why they hadn’t dropped him back with his mother. They’d told him there were still a few things they needed him to do before they could let him go. Joshua had then become insufferable. He began to cry, then rant, swear, and sulk. It had been quite a display. Rather than tape his mouth again, a compromise had been reached when the men agreed to give him back his PSP in exchange for silence. Actually, the men hadn’t agreed; Vince wanted to threaten the kid with the demise of his mother again, but Scott had taken him aside and persuaded him, for the moment, that having the kid pacified and on their side was best. So Vince had said from that moment on, the kid would be Scott’s problem — except when it came to disposal!
Joshua put down the game console and turned to Scott.
‘We’ve spoken with your mother?’ Scott began.
Joshua’s eyes lit up.
‘We explained that taking you was a bit of a mistake and that we’re sorry. We told her that you’re in safe hands, and will be with her soon.’
‘Does she miss me?’ His face was bright and inquisitive.
‘To be honest, it all got a bit weird from there on in. She started off by being concerned, even threatened me, but then she went quiet for a moment and sorta changed, almost like she didn’t sound too worried about you,’ Scott said solemnly.
Joshua’s face fell flat.
‘What do you mean, what did she say?’
‘I’m sorry, but once I told her you were okay, she kinda lost interest. We spoke for a while, and I have to tell you, I got the feeling that she was relieved you weren’t around.’
Scott looked sadly towards the ground as he continued.
‘She almost thanked me for calling, and said she had to go because she had a friend to meet. Has she got a boyfriend? Coz she sounded flustered like it was a date. Then she added something I didn’t quite catch, but it was about her not being able to go out for years — I sorta feel like your unpaid babysitter now.’
‘She didn’t try to get me back?’
‘I’m sure she meant to…’
Joshua’s shoulders sank and he began to well up.
Scott sat on the bed beside him and put his arm around him.
‘It’ll all be alright, kid. We’ll take care of you.’
Scott had a twinge of guilt about lying to Joshua, especially breaking the parent/child bond between him and his mother, but whatever it takes he thought to himself.
Vince gently opened the door to the storage cupboard in the living room. The cupboard was the coolest and darkest part of their house, so he knew the plastic explosives were safe and stable, but it didn’t hurt to be cautious. He bent down and unclipped the lid on the wooden box, easing it up to have a look. Four lumps of what could be mistaken for clay were snugly nestled in polystyrene. Each brick was individually wrapped in clear cellophane, it had astounded him how such an easy to shape and palpable product could cause such destruction, but when he thought back to the mess it made of the warehouse in Burlington, shivers of anticipation ran down his spine.
Similarly, it had been a job that Tims aka Harrison had told them to have a ball with. It was what looked like an abandoned warehouse on the outskirts of town. When they went to survey the job, there hadn’t been much to see. It was a rusted shell of a building that was more or less crumbling to the concrete floor. The huge steel doors barely gripped hold of their hinges, and not an intact windowpane could be seen. Although they were told not to, they’d peeked through the broken glass just to see what was inside; all they saw was giant grey metal boxes covered with dials all hooked up to what looked like a satellite dish. Strange and odd looking, but certainly not what they’d consider valuable. Based on the state the whole site was in, it looked like it was going to be another mission of mercy rather than an act of destruction.
The biggest problem they could see was the lack of combustible material, only concrete and steel as far as the eye could see. They’d been assured the buildings contents would burn, but they were also warned they were not to set foot inside. The partners had agreed C4 would be the perfect solution. Under Vince’s direction, they’d set the explosives strategically around the outside and then watched it blow. It was crazy. The noise alone had been enough to make his ears ring for hours, but the bright red, orange, and yellow fireworks and carnage of the blast had put him on a high for weeks.
Leaving Joshua in the room, Scott went out to talk with his partner.
‘What’s the smile on your face for?’ Vince asked.
‘I think I’ve got the kid where I need him; he’s basically gonna do whatever we ask.’
‘How did you manage that?’
‘Not important, let’s just say that he’s bitter and twisted now, and as pliable as, well as pliable as that stuff,’ he said as he pointed to the explosives.
‘Lift out the blasting caps, and I’ll get the timers from the garage. Best we set up the job now.’
All materials collected, they met at the kitchen table and set down the assortment of blasting caps, timers, connecting wires, and soldering equipment. Both men had a rudimentary knowledge
of electronics, but their work didn’t need to be first class, just safe for them, and of course, effective
While they worked, Vince thought back to his time in Iraq. After the unfortunate incident, as he classed it, his unit had moved on to another area and another set of mud huts to ruin. However, most of his time there as a grunt or private was routine, dull, and boring; to relieve this, he had befriended a small demolitions team. They were a professional crew that had been brought in to clear some of the smaller villages: places with small pockets of Iraqi resistance as well as places that were deemed too hazardous to send even the grunts into. The powers that be figured that by leveling the buildings, it took away places to hide. Ideally, a few missiles would have taken care of the problem, but with the press monitoring the air; a more subtle method was needed — hence the demo team and Vince’s need to befriend them.
As their honorary new mascot, the crew took him on special ops and assignments, showing him how to use all manner of incendiary devices from good old TNT, through C4, to some highly classified experimental gear. He rapidly learned how to use everything; he was a motivated pupil. The bigger the explosion and devastation, the bigger the smile on his face. The trouble with operating back in the States was that getting hold of explosives such as C4 was becoming harder and harder, so Scott and Vince had agreed to only use it on special occasions — tonight was going to be fun!
‘Did I ever tell you that in Iraq me and the crew used to use C4 to heat our dinners?’ Vince asked as they worked.
Scott had actually heard the story many times, but he knew his friend enjoyed telling the tale, so he shook his head, and Vince continued.
‘Iraq is a vast and desolate place; you never knew where you’d be from one day to the next. Anyway, C4 is the perfect fuel to have with you; it burns hot and it burns slow, much better than wood, plus there ain’t many trees in the desert. Hot as all hell in the day, but it can be a bitterly cold and dark place at night, I can tell you. When the sun goes down and darkness takes hold, your best pal is C4.
‘We used to break off a small chunk and set it alight. The thing not too many people know is C4 needs a detonator or quite a severe shock to make it blow; without that it just creates a great fire. Many a night we used to sit out there circled around a lump of explosive, watching it glow, telling stories, and watching our dinner cook. The stuff smells a bit, but you get used to that real quick, especially when you’re hungry.’
A smile crossed his face as he continued. ‘One night, they told me about another demo team; apparently, this crew wasn’t as experienced, but they’d been sent out to take care of a small resistance group. Anyway, they were up in the hills in a small cave waiting for the green light that was taking its own sweet time coming, so one of them lit up some C4 — made the wait almost pleasant. A little while later, the call came in that they had to move NOW. They all jumped up and grabbed their gear ready to move out; one of them decided to get rid of any trace of them being there and stamped out the fire. The shock of his boot on the C4 caused it to detonate. Certainly got rid of all trace of them!’ he laughed as he finished.
For several reasons, Scott doubted the story was true: for one, if no one was left, who would have told the story? But more importantly, he had done his own research on C4 and knew it took considerably more than a stamp to set it off. It certainly wasn’t something he’d try and do himself to prove either way, but he did think it might be a job for the team at Mythbusters.
Later that evening, the clock hit ten; both men stood up and stretched. Having finished making the bombs earlier and changing their appearances, they’d retired to the living room to watch some inane sitcom on the tube, and were relieved when it finally ended.
‘Time to get moving.’
Through their usual independent and individual surveillance, they’d worked out the basic schedules of the LAPD patrol cars. The cars seemed to hit the hill every couple of hours, but there was a three-hour gap for shift change between eleven and two in the morning, so they planned to get to the foot of the hill around eleven-fifteen.
From the attic, Scott pulled down some luggage: two suitcases and two travel bags, while Vince went to the cupboard and lifted out the explosives. They carefully placed the C4 into the luggage and Vince took them out to the cab while Scott went in to see Joshua.
‘We’ve got to go and do another job now,’ he began.
‘Who are you?’ asked a startled Joshua.
He’d been playing a video game, but the unit dropped from his hands as a stranger walked into the room. In stereotypical cab driver fashion, Scott had deeply tanned his face and donned a turban. It took Scott a few moments to realize what Joshua was talking about.
‘Oh this,’ he said smiling as he touched his face and head. ‘It’s just a sheet and some face paint for the job tonight — I guess the disguise works.’
Joshua visibly relaxed.
‘You’ve been in here all day, and I kinda feel bad about it. I have a question to ask you.’.
Joshua sat up.
‘What do you want to know?’
‘I want you to take a moment before you answer. This is not like the other time. This time it’s your choice. With what you did for us last time, I think you’re man enough to make your own choices. You can stay locked up in here playing your games, or you can choose to come with us, see a bit of the outside, and maybe grab a burger on the way back. What do you think?’
Scott knew his and Joshua’s friendship was growing. He watched Joshua’s confidence grow as he spoke, especially when he called him a man.
Joshua stood up. ‘I want to come with you.’
‘Good lad.’
They left the room and met up with Vince in the garage. Joshua was startled again by the new appearance of Vince who had opted for a long-haired wig and beard.
‘What’s going on?’ Vince asked looking at the boy.
‘Joshua has decided he’d like to come with us on this job.’
His partner was about to speak when Scott pulled him to the side.
‘Think about it, if someone spots us, there’s no way they’re gonna suspect a boy and his dad being dropped off by a cab.’
Vince thought about it for a moment, and then nodded.
‘You really do have some great ideas,’ he remarked.
‘I have one more up my sleeve, too. Take the kid to the car; I need to make a call.’
Vince and the kid were waiting in the cab when Scott joined them.‘All set,’ he said as he slipped into the driver’s seat.
‘What was that all about?’ Vince asked.
‘I’ll tell you later,’ he said smiling before he added, ‘Now, Joshua, we need you to duck down for a moment.’
Vince and Joshua both ducked down as Scott hit the door remote and backed the cab out of the driveway and drove off down the street.
Victimizing criminals was always a pleasurable experience for Elwood. Not expecting to be followed was a common trait among humans generally, but criminals — since they were the hunters — rarely thought anyone would have the audacity to turn them into the prey. They often made simple mistakes; and best of all, they generally kept unusual hours. His contractor’s torches, Scott and Vince, were a perfect example. They were small-time arsonists, perfect for the jobs he’d supplied to Tims, but small-time nonetheless. Completely undetected, he’d been able to trail them back to their home and watch them come and go, something a man of Elwood’s caliber would never let happen.
There seemed to be no sign of the dwarf they’d used in the LA office job, which was a still a bit of a mystery to Elwood, maybe he was a contractor they’d used specifically for that job. It meant finding him would complicate matters a little, but nonetheless, if he was correct, they’d somehow picked up the flash drive. He was sure of it, but it was something he would confirm the next time they went out. Unfortunately, Elwood thought, they were now involved in something that was way out of their league — something that could only end badly for them.
The garage door beside the torches’ house began to raise, Elwood slipped down a little in his seat, but he knew from experience he could have just as well have been standing on his roof waving a bright pink flag for all the notice they would give him. Elwood watched as the cab drove past; seeing only the driver, he initially thought only one of them was on the move, but as the cab neared the end of the street, he saw a head pop up in the back seat. Elwood was amused at the prospect that they were off to cause some grief to someone else’s life — unaware that if Elwood was correct about them having the flash drive, they were about to find out what the meaning of grief really was.
Elwood waited seven minutes; it was a lucky number for him. In his experience, most people knew within the first few minutes if they had forgotten something or left something like a stove or an iron on that they needed to return to. So, allowing for U-turns and the return journey, seven minutes was ample time to wait. He slipped quietly out of his SUV and across the street to the house, choosing to enter from the rear. The lock on the patio door put up little resistance, and he tutted to himself as the ranch slider ran uninhibited on its rail allowing him access to the house; wasn’t it security 101 that a broom stick wedged in the rails was a simple burglar deterrent, and of course, there was no alarm system.
The computer took pride of place in the living room cum office area. Elwood switched it on and wandered around the room while it went through the motions of booting up. Not exactly lavish surroundings, especially for the money they charge for their work, he thought to himself, the big-screen Sony plasma being the most expensive item in the room. No photos or knick-knacks, it was a typical bachelor pad. He moved to the kitchen and picked up the mail that lay on the benchtop. Some were addressed to Vince and some to Scott. ‘So, I now have a name for two of the faces, but who and where is the dwarf?’ Elwood said to himself.