Parker had made it personal.
Let’s see where we both are in twelve months’ time. Lawrence smiled at the thought as he continued to check out Robinson’s PA‚ wondering if Lucy or Laura or whatever her name was had noticed his dark blue suit‚ cut by the hands of Cad & the Dandy‚ Saville Row.
The door to Robinson’s office opened and Major General Sinclair stormed out‚ carrying a scowl‚ his red ruddy cheeks redder and ruddier than ever. He glared at Lawrence.
‘You can go in‚’ said Laura or Lucy
Assistant Director of Counter Terrorism Operations John Robinson was not one for appearances. Showering‚ it appeared‚ was not a high priority‚ and underarm sweat patches were evident not only through his shirt but also through his crumpled blazer. On occasion he had food stuck between his teeth‚ and his breath always smelt sickly sweet. His office‚ though‚ told another story altogether. Bright natural light flooded through the floor-to-ceiling glass windows‚ overlooking some of London’s most treasured structures. There wasn’t a desk or computer in sight; instead there were two black leather three-seater sofas‚ facing each other with a tinted glass coffee table in-between‚ littered with high-end glossy magazines and newspapers and a Cisco conference phone.
Robinson always enjoyed the look of surprise when somebody entered his office for the first time. He sat down and motioned for Lawrence to take a seat opposite him.
‘Nice suit‚’ Robinson said.
‘Thanks‚’ Lawrence replied. ‘Nice office.’
‘It’ll do‚’ Robinson said‚ as he looked around the office. ‘For the time being.’ Robinson crossed his legs and considered Lawrence as a small victory. ‘Welcome on board.’
‘Thank you‚ sir. I appreciate being given the chance.’
‘You were wasted there‚ Lawrence.’ Robinson ran his tongue across his front two teeth. Satisfied that part of his lunch wasn’t lodged there‚ he continued. ‘I just had a very interesting meeting with Sinclair.’
‘Yes‚ sir. I just saw him leave. He didn’t seem too happy.’
‘We had a disagreement… Regarding you‚ actually.’
‘Sir?’
‘It seems that he wasn’t impressed by the role we have offered you.’
Lawrence shifted uncomfortably in his seat.
‘Sinclair was…’ Robinson continued‚ searching for the right word. ‘Adamant that you are to have no part in this ongoing operation. He wanted to have you removed from Kingsley Parker’s orbit. In part‚ I agreed. You and Parker are not compatible.’ Lawrence absent-mindedly touched his ear. ‘But that doesn’t mean to say that‚ going forward‚ you would not be of any value. You’ve already shown yourself to have some grit‚ and it’s thanks to you that we have full control over Javid Qasim.’
Lawrence nodded. Robinson stood up and walked over to a large mahogany cabinet and opened it. He picked out two whisky glasses‚ holding them in one hand with his thumb and forefinger‚ and in the other hand he brandished a bottle of Scotch. Robinson placed the bottle and glasses on the coffee table and proceeded to pour a decent shot into each glass.
‘Cheers‚’ Robinson said‚ as they clinked glasses. ‘I am not interested in what Sinclair feels. You are still very much involved in this operation. But now you work directly under me; you report to me and you answer to me.’
‘Yes‚ sir.’ Lawrence said. He felt a touch light-headed as the trail of whisky burned through his chest. But more than anything he felt the adrenaline start to rush through him.
‘Now‚’ Robinson said. ‘Let’s discuss your first task.’
21
The sky was dark and the moon was full‚ which made it feel later than it actually was when I eventually got home. From Parvez’s house‚ from across the road‚ he had a direct view of my front door‚ and I hoped he hadn’t seen me earlier‚ being handcuffed away. The last thing I needed was for him to pop round with his words of fucking wisdom. I walked in and the house was freezing. I blasted the heating and kept my jacket on until the house warmed up. I ran upstairs and went straight to the secret hiding place where I kept all my stash that I didn’t want Mum to see. A red Nike shoe box. I flipped open the lid and took out a half-empty half bottle of Smirnoff Vodka and a ready-rolled joint. I went back downstairs‚ slumped on an armchair‚ turned on the box and channel-hopped without paying any attention. I drank greedily from the bottle and puffed mercifully‚ holding every pull deep in my lungs before exhaling. The combination of the two‚ along with an empty stomach‚ took effect in no time at all.
I logged onto my banking app and checked my bank balance‚ hoping for a miracle‚ a bank error to the tune of ten thousand. It showed £500‚ five hundred more than yesterday‚ transferred by Mum as she said she would‚ with the same amount to be deposited regularly over the next few months‚ on the promise that I would double my efforts and look for a job. Well‚ about that‚ Mum‚ I had just had a very interesting job interview on the hard shoulder of the M4 for the Security Service!
Parker was right‚ I didn’t have a hope in hell repaying my debt. It seemed I had few options: grass up Silas and then join MI5 as the token Paki. Or get banged up. Or get killed.
Apart from the recent incident with Silas‚ he’d always been good to me‚ but I guess that’s because I’d always been good to him. I’d always been on time with my drop offs‚ every other Friday without fail‚ and I took my cut without counting it. Any gear I had left over I knew I could shift the next time‚ especially as there were always a lot of student parties at the local college. A couple of times after I’d made a drop Silas wouldn’t let me go home‚ instead making me stay for hours into the night‚ watching back to back nineties movies while getting wasted. There was one particular time‚ when we were both smashed on tequila shots and some very fine Blue Cheese skunk‚ that he insisted that he show me something. He took me up to the converted loft space. Outside a heavy-duty door there was a small‚ numerical keypad. He clumsily entered the pin incorrectly and just as he was about to try again‚ he paused. His hand hovered over the keypad and I could see him calculating through his high‚ as he tried to come to a decision. Slowly Silas dropped his hand to his side and turned to me. ‘It’s not meant to be‚’ he said simply.
I didn’t push him‚ even though I was curious as George. We went back downstairs and he indicated to me that the night was over.
He came this close to showing me something.
I had a good idea what was behind that door‚ and I knew if I put pen to paper it could put him away for a long time.
*
Three hard knocks on my front door made me jump out of my skin. After the day I’d had I thought it would be wise to clock who it was first through the living room curtains. I tutted loudly to myself when I saw that it was one of my freshy neighbours.
‘Jay‚ Beta‚ I knocking on door for long time‚’ Aunty Rashida said in broken‚ heavily accented English. ‘I saw you come home and then I thought something bad happened to you when you not answer.’ She wasn’t a real Aunt but everyone of a certain age and colour on my street was a fucking Uncle or Aunty.
‘Salaam‚ Aunty‚’ I said‚ mirroring her clumsy inflection. ‘Sorry‚ I was busy‚ I didn’t hear you. Sorry.’ I wasn’t taking the piss; I always talked like that to my elders whose first language wasn’t the Queen’s. It was patronising‚ I know‚ but also the most effective way to communicate. ‘How are you?’ I said‚ eyeing up the Tupperware in her hand
‘Fine‚ Beta. How is Ami? Has she landed safely and soundly?’ she asked‚ wrinkling her nose. I knew she could smell the drink on my breath.
‘Not sure‚’ I said‚ through the side of my mouth. ‘I’m just waiting for her to phone.’ I knew why she was here‚ and it wasn’t to ask about my Mum. I also knew that like most Aunty-Jis she didn’t have any tact.
‘I saw lots of policeman take you today‚’ she said. Straight for the jugular.
I cursed under my breath. ‘Not to
worry‚ Aunty‚’ I said. ‘Misunderstanding.’
She looked at me with a confused expression as she tried to decipher misunderstanding.
‘Mistake. Big mistake‚’ I said‚ making it a little easier for her. The smell from the Tupperware was now making its way into my house and my stomach rumbled‚ and at that moment I missed my mum so much.
‘But they put…’ She couldn’t find the right word‚ so balancing the container in one hand‚ she put her wrists together.
‘Handcuffs‚’ I said and she nodded excitedly at the new word that she had learnt. ‘No. Aunty. It was nothing. Just a mistake‚ big mistake. Please don’t worry.’
We stood there for a moment‚ aimlessly nodding at each other. My mouth had started to water as I recognised the smell. Lamb Biryani!
‘Is that for me?’ I said‚ pointing at the container.
‘Yes‚ yes. For you.’ A smile flashed across her face. ‘I come in? Warm up for you?’
Yeah‚ right. More like fish for more juicy details to go and tell the rest of the neighbourhood watch committee.
‘Sorry‚ Aunty. I really am very busy right now.’
I smiled sweetly‚ liberated the container from her and shut the door‚ just as she opened her mouth to say something.
*
I had my tray set up with my spoon and fork‚ some mango pickle and a cold glass of lemonade. The microwave pinged and the Lamb Biryani looked picture perfect. The sweet smell rose up into my nose and attacked my senses‚ almost sending me delirious.
Then there was another hard rap on my front door. What the fuck‚ man? I placed the plate on the tray and looked longingly at it. I stomped to the door in frustration and‚ without checking who it was through the front window‚ I opened the door‚ ready to give my nosy neighbours a piece of my mind.
I hadn’t realised that I’d been punched square on the nose until I was on my backside in my hallway holding it. Two pairs of Timberlands walked into my house and shut the door behind them.
22
Through watery eyes I looked up and Staples and another guy‚ who I had not yet had the pleasure of being introduced to‚ were towering over me.
‘What’s that smell?’ Staples said‚ as his nostrils flared. ‘That smells fucking divine.’ He turned his attention to his comrade. ‘Ben. Take Jay into the living room‚ will ya? I’ll be back in a tick.’
I was lifted onto my feet and dragged into the living room and thrown down onto my armchair by not so gentle Ben. He stood smirking in front of me‚ proudly showing off every one of his gold teeth. Staples walked into the living room with my plate of Lamb Biryani in hand. He pulled up a chair and sat adjacent to me as he tucked into my supper‚ making all the appreciative sounds that I should have been making.
‘You want some‚ mate?’ Staples said to Ben.
‘Nah‚ you’re alright. Indian food gives me the runs‚’ Ben said. ‘I’ll get some KFC later.’
My head was spinning from the drink‚ my senses were numb from the skunk and my eyes were still watering due to my bloody nose. I could sense Staples eyeing me over the plate but I didn’t dare give it back. Instead I turned my attention to the TV. Through my blurred vision I could see a red ticker tape scrolling across the bottom of Sky News‚ but I couldn’t make out what it read and the volume was too low to hear.
‘What are these little black things?’ Staples said‚ picking out a whole pepper from the Biryani and holding it up between his thumb and forefinger.
‘What?’ I said.
Staples threw it at me and it bounced harmlessly off my head. I didn’t even have the energy to flinch.
‘Kali Mirch‚’ I said‚ wearily. ‘Whole pepper‚ in English‚ I think they’re called.’
‘Are they edible or are they put in for the aroma so it—’
‘What do you want‚ Staples?’ I interrupted.
‘Did it sound like I’d finished talking‚ motherfucker?’ Staples hissed at me. ‘Interrupt me again and it will be the last time you do‚ you get me?’
I just nodded‚ unsure whether he had finished talking.
‘Now‚ as you’re in such a hurry for me to get to the point‚ I will.’ Staples eyes fell on the now empty bottle of vodka‚ which I did not remember finishing‚ and the butt of my joint sitting‚ without a care in the world‚ in my ashtray. ‘I just dropped in for a friendly visit‚ is all. Just to make sure that you’re getting Silas’ money together.’
‘I’ve still got two days left‚’ I said. I rubbed my eyes and my vision started to clear. From the corner of my eye on the TV I could see an aerial view but it was hard to determine what the view was of because a thick spiral of black smoke was obstructing whatever it was that they were trying to show. The information bar at the bottom of the screen stated that it was Breaking News: Edmonton‚ Canada.
‘I’m not one to judge a book by its cover‚ Jay‚’ Staples said. ‘But it looks very much to me like you are drinking your problems away. Hmm? Looking for an answer at the bottom of a bottle.’
I had no answer so I gave him my default response. A shrug.
‘Well?’ Staples asked.
‘I still got two days.’ I repeated. ‘We had a deal.’
Staples laughed. ‘We’re just here to see how you’re getting along.’
Staples kept talking‚ but now my attention was fully on Sky News. They were now showing a different angle where the middle of a large building had collapsed‚ and was billowing black smoke. Men and women were running and staggering out of the building and gathering in the car park. Others were being carried. The feed zoomed in and to my horror I realised that that they weren’t men and women. They were boys and girls.
They were children. And the building was a school.
Staples had stopped talking now and Ben had taken a break from giving me menacing stares. Their attention turned towards the news and they quietly watched the horrific events that had taken place.
It was harrowing. And I silently prayed to whoever was listening‚ Please don’t let it be us responsible.
But I knew better.
*
We watched in grim silence as the children and teachers held each other‚ sobbing their fucking hearts out. Medics were on the scene treating those who were still treatable. The press swarmed‚ taking morbid pictures‚ and police milled around uselessly‚ unsure of the correct procedure.
‘Turn that shit up‚’ Staples said. A sign flashed up‚ Warning. Graphic Images. I located the remote control and cranked the volume right up and‚ just as I did‚ at that very moment‚ there was a loud blast which tore through the surround sound speakers filling my living room. The unmistakeable sound of death.
The remote control dropped from my hands and I leaned back hard in my armchair‚ as if trying to get as far from the TV as possible. The echo of the explosion was still ringing in my ears. Staples was up on his feet like a shot. In doing so he knocked the plate; rice and succulent pieces of Lamb scattered on the floor. Ben dropped down onto his haunches and held his head in his hand mumbling random expletives to himself.
A black swirl covered every inch of my 50-inch plasma as smoke billowed around looking for a direction to head towards. Behind the smoke‚ there were earth-shattering‚ ear-piercing screams. The feed cut to a different camera‚ showing the grounds of the car park‚ which was carpeted with a sick concoction of bodies‚ limbs and internal organs.
The bastards. The fucking hateful bastards. They had waited for everyone to escape from the building after the first attack‚ and gather in the car park. As they knew they would. Then a second bomb had detonated right there in the fucking car park‚ taking out all of those children who were fortunate enough to have survived the first attack.
The feed then mercifully cut to the Sky News desk. The newsreaders were as white as ghosts. The man put a finger to his ear and listened into his ear piece. He nodded solemnly to himself.
‘We have confirmed reports coming in from various
sources that Al-Jazeera have just aired a video tape. The tape appears to show a group of three armed masked men claiming responsibility for the atrocities that took place earlier today. They declared that they belong to a group called Al-Aqab.’
Ben got up from his haunches and turned to face me‚ his expression masked with rage. ‘That’s your fuckin’ fault‚’ he spat. ‘You hear me?’
I did hear him. My blood boiled and my breathing deepened.
‘Ben…’ Staples said‚ turning from aggressor to pacifier.
‘No‚ fuck that‚’ Ben continued. ‘It is his fault. Him and his so called fucking Paki Brothers.’ Ben took a long stride towards me and lifted me by my jacket. His face an inch from mine‚ his breath like an old suitcase. ‘Does this shit make you happy‚ bitch? You going to have a good laugh about this with your Brothers?’
The impact of the ashtray smashing against the side of his face sent Ben sprawling to the floor. I stood over him and glared‚ knowing what was to come.
*
Staples and Ben left soon after. I took a good kicking and I took it well. They couldn’t do much damage as I still had a debt to pay. I was laid out on my back on the living room carpet‚ directly underneath the TV. From my view the picture was upside down. There were two photos on the screen of my so called ‘Paki Brothers’. They had been teachers at the school. One had detonated the explosive in the school canteen‚ and the other from his car in the car park. They would have known the emergency meeting point in the car park‚ and planned accordingly.
I gingerly got to my knees and touched the side of my body. My ribs ached‚ but from my limited medical knowledge they didn’t seem cracked. I gingerly got to my feet and stood in front of the television. My finger was on the power button but I was unable to switch it off.
They replayed the harrowing scenes from earlier. On the third floor‚ above the devastated school canteen‚ a small girl in a black blazer‚ a few sizes too big for her‚ appeared at a smashed window. She looked over her shoulder‚ and whatever hellish nightmare she saw must have been worse than the thought of jumping out to her certain death. She stepped forward and dropped.
East of Hounslow Page 9