Homegrown Hero

by Khurrum Rahman

  ‘No‚’ I said. ‘No! How many times do I have to say it.’

  ‘What did he say to you?’

  ‘What? You think I had a conversation with him? Yeah‚ Dad‚ I’m fine. Life is just fucking grand. How about you? Still killing innocent people‚ you crazy motherfucker?’

  ‘Tell me what he said?’

  I switched the TV on and channel hopped‚ not giving him the satisfaction.

  ‘Look‚ Jay‚’ he said after a moment. ‘Your departure from MI5... God knows it could have been handled better. If it was up to me‚ you’d still be with us. I truly believed that you had more to offer us.’

  I shrugged. ‘I wouldn’t have stayed.’

  ‘They couldn’t figure you out. They were never quite sure if you would deviate from your mission.’

  ‘They? At least have the decency to say his name.’

  ‘Robinson.’

  John Robinson‚ Assistant Director of Counter Terrorism and first rate bastard!

  ‘Your friendship with the attackers‚ especially with Parvez Ahmed‚ and correct me if I’m wrong‚ was genuine. You bought into what they believed in.’

  ‘I didn’t buy into anything‚’ I said. ‘But yeah... I understood.’

  ‘So you can understand why we had to dispatch the police units. We didn’t know what he said to you‚ or how you would react… Jay‚ I need you to tell me what The Teacher said.’

  ‘You are out of your fucking skull‚ do you know that? MI-fucking-5!’

  ‘Jay.’

  ‘Nothing! That coward didn’t say shit!’

  ‘He didn’t give you a clue where he may be heading?’

  All that aggression‚ all that emotion‚ that fucking phone call that I was now replaying over in my mind had drained me. I sat back down opposite Lawrence; genuine concern was etched on his face and I couldn’t work out why.

  ‘No‚ Lawrence‚’ I said‚ softly. ‘He didn’t say a word.’

  ‘Why do you think he called you?’

  ‘I honestly don’t know. I didn’t even know it was him until you turned up.’

  We sat in a moment of silence. I was no longer pissed at him. My anger had been misplaced.

  ‘Jay‚’ he asked. ‘Are you alright?’

  I didn’t think he was making small talk. The question was asked in earnest‚ so I replied with my most honest response. A small shrug.

  ‘If you want‚’ he said carefully. ‘We can arrange further counselling.’

  ‘Lawrence… Please… You can’t keep dragging me back into this. I went to hell and back for you. People I cared about died. I’ve nothing left. All I want is for you to leave me alone and let me live my life.’

  He didn’t respond; he didn’t have to. I was aware that they would never stop tracking me. A change of phone number would not make a difference. I could move address‚ change my name‚ leave the country‚ but they still had the power to find me. The only way our association would end would be when they killed my father.

  44

  Hounslow Police Station

  Daniel jammed his hands in the pockets of his faded blue denim jeans. Not black. On his feet he had on white Reebok Classics. Not cherry Doc Martens. He wore a lightweight navy blue parka which pleased his father‚ who’d had enough of seeing Daniel in that cheap black bomber jacket. He said it made him look like a thug.

  He was worse than a thug. An innocent girl had taken her own life and Daniel had helped tie the noose. The guilt was like nothing he’d felt before.

  It was why‚ late that morning‚ he had been standing across the road from Hounslow Police Station‚ trying to figure out how the last twelve months went from mourning for his mother to mourning for a girl that he’d had a hand in killing.

  In his desperation to belong‚ he’d easily been led‚ his views and opinions no longer his own. Skipping class and heading to Lampton Park to get drunk with Simon and Anthony. Easily becoming immersed in their passion for their country. Their anger and frustration‚ collectively feeding off one another. Laws bent‚ policies renewed to treat the minorities – that one particular minority – with near impunity‚ regardless of the hatred they held towards the West.

  But it was just talk‚ just venting. It was never supposed to be more than that. Not for Daniel.

  On the bus that day. That lad. That girl. Head covered‚ flaunting Islam‚ on the top deck of a London bus‚ as if she owned it. It acted like a trigger for Simon and Anthony‚ Daniel could see it as soon as they’d set eyes on them.

  It was one thing to dress the part‚ but they had to act the part‚ too‚ if they wanted to be accepted by people like Kramer.

  But they went too far. God‚ even that thug Rose thought they had. However Daniel looked at it‚ tried to justify it‚ a girl had died as a direct consequence of their actions. His actions.

  Now Rose had suggested that they find the boy on the bus and do whatever it takes to keep him quiet. It excited Simon and Anthony‚ more so that they had been given the green light from the leader of a far-right extremism group. As though permission from a grown-up.

  No more‚ not for Daniel. He knew that he’d never fully escape his actions‚ and would have to carry it around with him for the rest of his life‚ but he wouldn’t let it define him.

  Daniel took a breath‚ his mind clear as to what he had to do‚ and crossed the road towards Hounslow Police Station. He had to come clean. Whatever it took to ease the guilt of an innocent girl’s death hanging over him‚ even it if meant providing the names of his friends.

  With one hand on the door handle to the police station‚ Daniel felt his phone vibrate. He slipped it out of his Parka. It was a text message from Simon.

  Where are you?

  Instantly paranoid‚ he dropped his hand away from the door handle‚ spun on his heels and walked away.

  *

  ‘Fucking buzzing‚ swear‚ just fucking buzzing‚’ Anthony exclaimed‚ enjoying the cocktail of a well-built joint and cheap vodka. He was hopping about‚ animated. Simon watched him with amusement from his spot‚ on the bench‚ at the back of Lampton Park.

  ‘Here he comes‚’ Simon said‚ looking past Anthony.

  Anthony turned around and saw Daniel cross the park.

  Daniel watched them watch him. He tried to gauge their mood. The text message frightened him. As if a physical pull. They might as well have been standing at the police station‚ pulling him away. It had the same effect.

  ‘What is up with that jacket?’ Anthony laughed.

  ‘You can talk‚’ Daniel replied. ‘The fuck is that?’ He exhaled through his nose‚ relieved that were treating him normally. There was no way they could have known where he had been or what he was planning to do‚ but the text message had set him on edge.

  ‘What this?’ Anthony pointed at his grass-green sweater. ‘This is Farah‚ mate. Designer‚ yeah. Went down to TK Maxx‚ didn’t I?’

  Daniel nodded and turned his attention to a sober-looking Simon. ‘Alright‚ Simon?’

  ‘Alright‚ Daniel‚’ Simon said.

  Anthony handed Daniel a joint and he pulled lightly on it‚ trying to act as natural as possible. It felt oddly comforting to see Anthony in bright green and Simon wearing a blue Timberland tracksuit. They looked younger. Actually they looked their age. When they donned their Doc Martens‚ the bomber jackets‚ it felt like a uniform. And with uniform came a hierarchy. It had never been said but it was clear that Simon was the leader‚ with Anthony Second-in-Command‚ whilst Daniel tried to climb the ladder. But at that moment‚ they looked for all the world like three kids hanging around a park bench.

  ‘Anthony‚ let’s sober up‚ eh?’ Simon said‚ as Anthony reached for the near-finished bottle of vodka.

  ‘Only a drop left.’

  ‘Yeah‚ but still. Daniel‚ you too‚ have a couple of pulls and put the joint out. Got to keep our heads clear.’

  ‘Why?’ Daniel asked.

  ‘Kramer just texted me a
n address‚’ Simon replied. ‘We’ve got work to do.’

  ‘Let’s do it. Let’s just fucking do it today‚’ Anthony exclaimed.

  ‘Do what? Whose address?’ Daniel felt the tremor in his voice.

  ‘The Paki lad‚ who else? We’ve got to shut him up‚’ Anthony cried.

  Simon read out the text message. ‘16 Fern Way. Heston.’

  ‘What else does it say?’ Daniel asked‚ as he made a mental note.

  ‘There’s a couple of kisses at the end of it! What the fuck else do you want it to say?’ Anthony laughed as though they were on their way to play knock-down-ginger.

  ‘I mean‚ do we know his name? Does he live alone? We can’t just turn up at his door.’

  ‘That’s all it says‚’ Simon said. ‘You alright‚ Daniel?’

  ‘Yeah‚ I’m fine‚’ Daniel replied.

  ‘Good.’ Simon squeezed Daniel’s shoulder‚ but it didn’t relax him. ‘Tonight‚ we’ll do it tonight.’

  Daniel nodded confidently at Simon before smiling across at Anthony. A single thought running through his head. He had to get to Naaim first.

  45

  Imy

  Yousuf Ejaz had walked into the restaurant aided by crutches. He made sure to catch my eye as he was shown to his table. Despite the fact that I had smashed a car door against his leg‚ he smiled warmly at me. It wasn’t unexpected that I was being watched; it would be this way until I had received word from Pathaan and carried out the fatwa.

  ‘Imy.’ Shaz clicked his fingers in my face. A little Nandos Extra Hot Sauce smeared on his left cheek. ‘You listening to me?’

  ‘Sure‚’ I said.

  ‘What did I just say?’ Shaz narrowed his eyes.

  ‘That you’ve been using the same brand shampoo all your life‚’ I said‚ trying to muster appropriate enthusiasm when my mind was elsewhere.

  ‘For a second I thought that your mind had drifted off to cushion covers and wallpaper samples.’ Shaz fidgeted in his chair. ‘Shit‚ Imy. I don’t feel comfortable here. I mean it’s alright‚ but I miss chilling in your flat‚ dipping into a bucket of chicken and skinning up a fat one.’

  ‘Those days are gone‚ Shaz. I have to grow up‚ make things work with Steph.’

  ‘Come on‚ Imy‚ one more night‚’ Shaz pleaded‚ a childlike quality to his voice.

  ‘Maybe‚’ I said. ‘Let’s see how I get along with Khala first. I’m going to see her as soon as we’re done here.’

  ‘You’re coming clean?’

  ‘I’m coming clean.’ I nodded.

  ‘We definitely have to hook up after and celebrate.’ He smiled.

  ‘I’m going to wash my hands.’ I sighed and stood up before my irritation became clear. It wasn’t his fault‚ but Shaz was starting to frustrate me. He may not know about every damn thing that was happening in my life‚ but he did know that I was trying hard to move forward with Stephanie‚ Jack and Khala. I could no longer be as carefree as him.

  I walked through the restaurant to the wash room. I passed Yousuf. He was sat by himself‚ watching me over the menu. I wanted to grab him by the lapels of his kameez and scream at him to stop following me. Instead I acknowledged him with a curt nod. He returned it with a warm smile.

  46

  Jay

  ‘Hey. Yo. Jay!’ Idris clicked his fingers in my face. ‘Are you with me?’

  ‘Yeah... I’m with you.’ I glanced around and took in my surroundings‚ just to remind myself where I was. My eyes landed on the Nando’s menu on the table in front of me. I picked it up and glanced over it‚ unable to make out the words let alone decide on my order.

  ‘God‚ Jay. Have you clocked a mirror lately? You ain’t looking your best. Looks like you’re smuggling loot under your eyes! You not sleeping?’

  ‘Sleeping’s for wimps!’ I said and then couldn’t stop myself yawning. ‘Just got a few things on my mind‚ that’s all.’

  ‘Did you hear that helicopter this morning?’ he asked. ‘It wasn’t far from yours.’

  ‘Yeah.’ I blinked at him. ‘I saw it.’

  Idris looked over his shoulders‚ ensuring that we weren’t overheard. We were alone up on the first floor of Nando’s‚ apart from the woman at the far end of the floor‚ wrestling a baby onto her breast. Like us‚ she’d probably come up for some privacy.

  ‘Straight away I assumed the worst‚’ he whispered.

  ‘What d’you mean‚ worst?’

  ‘Silas‚’ Idris mouthed.

  I nodded. With all the drama in my life‚ Silas had taken a back seat‚ in a different car‚ driving in the opposite direction.

  ‘Your boys made a breakthrough yet?’

  ‘Put it this way‚ they’re not pouring all their resources into it. But a minimum task force has been set up. I have a man on the inside‚’ Idris said‚ tapping the side of his nose. ‘I’ve pulled him out of the fire a few times‚ so he owes me.’

  ‘Yeah.’ I cleared my throat‚ trying to muster appropriate interest‚ but my mind was on Lawrence‚ the phone call‚ my pain in the arse father.

  ‘Did you know he had CCTV?’ Idris said. ‘Above his front door.’

  ‘Hmm. Who?’

  ‘Jay!’ Idris raised his voice. ‘Smell the fucking roses. Hell is wrong with you?’

  ‘Silas?’

  ‘Yes! Silas! CCTV! Above his front fucking door!’ He tapped the side of his head. ‘Where are you‚ Jay?’

  ‘Alright. I’m here. Don’t get loud.’ The mother‚ who’d eventually managed to get her baby to latch on‚ glared at us as the baby removed itself from her breast to watch the commotion. I smiled an apology‚ catching flesh. She quickly covered her modesty. Idris sat back with his arms crossed‚ judging me. I allowed it. Even the great Detective Idris Zaidi couldn’t work out the mess in my head. After a moment of his eyes boring into me‚ I said‚ ‘The footage wasn’t found‚ was it? We wouldn’t be sitting here if it did.’

  ‘The footage was uploaded directly onto an external hard drive.’

  ‘It wasn’t there when your boys turned up?’

  Idris shook his head.

  ‘What else did your inside man say?’ I asked.

  ‘From what he tells me‚ they’re not exactly breaking their backs trying to find the killers. Between me and you‚ they’re secretly celebrating Silas’ demise.’

  ‘Killers? Plural? You think there’s more than one?’

  ‘You tell me‚ Jay. You saw. Three bodies‚ sliced and gutted. Had to be more than one man‚ possibly a rival firm.’

  ‘Silas didn’t have any rivals‚’ I said. In my mind’s eye I saw the man on the motorbike.

  ‘It’s not him‚’ Idris trawled through my mind again. ‘Chances are he saw what happened and quickly got the fuck out of there.’

  ‘He was in there a while‚ Idris‚’ I said‚

  ‘Well‚ if it was him‚ I wouldn’t like to be on the wrong side of him. Either way‚ I can’t exactly mention him‚ it would place us at the scene‚ and right now‚ Jay‚ as it stands‚ you and me were nowhere near there. So... You know‚ let’s just keep our heads down and I think we’ll be alright.’

  Idris smiled at me. I didn’t have it in me to mirror it. Man‚ I didn’t even have it in me to shrug. I tried to feel relief but it just did not come. Fucking Idris and his fucking bright side of life‚ bless him. Chatting about keep our heads down and we’ll be alright. Every time I try to keep my head down there’s somebody waiting to yank it back up by my hair and make me face things that I just want to fucking forget.

  Yeah‚ Idris would stroll through the rest of his life without breaking stride‚ but the future wasn’t looking so rosy for me. Silas had been the least of my problems‚ but not the last of my problems. He may have been the meanest motherfucker in Hounslow‚ but the meanest motherfucker on earth is my Father‚ and I swear‚ at that moment I wished him dead over Silas.

  ‘How’s your…?’ Idris slid a finger across his throat. It sent
cold shivers down my spine.

  ‘Fuck’s sake‚ Idris. Have some sensitivity!’

  ‘Sorry‚ Jay.’ He grinned.

  ‘It’s alright. My voice is back to full strength and I’m able to eat pretty much anything. I even had a smoke earlier. So‚ yeah‚ you know…’

  ‘Now that you’re back to your irritating best‚ you should start thinking about getting back to work.’

  ‘I have been.’

  ‘Well… That’s good. Try and forget the whole sorry episode. I might swing by later‚ after my shift.’

  ‘Can’t today. Got plans.’

  ‘Remind me – with your right or left hand?’

  ‘With this hand‚’ I showed him my middle finger.

  ‘So what’re you up to?’

  ‘Seeing some mates.’

  ‘Mates…’ He raised one eyebrow‚ a trick I was never able to master. ‘What mates?’

  ‘From… Heston Community Centre‚’ I said cautiously‚ and then felt like a twat for saying it cautiously. So I overcompensated. ‘Zafar‚ Tahir‚ Ira and Naaim.’

  He nodded. ‘Naaim?’

  ‘Yeah‚ Naaim.’

  Idris smiled. Lips pursed tight. It pissed me off. If you’re going to smile‚ smile properly. I want to see teeth. I want to see wrinkles under the eyes. Not this bullshit‚ patronising‚ we need to talk‚ tight fucking smile. I immediately went on the defensive.

  ‘What’s that mean?’ I asked.

  ‘What does what mean?’

  ‘That stupid look on your face.’

  Idris looked away from me‚ figuring out if he should say what he wanted to say. I could read him like a fucking comic. His eyes landed back on me‚ and he said‚ ‘Jay. We need to talk.’

  And there we fucking have it.

  ‘No‚ Idris‚ actually we don’t.’

  ‘I’m worried about you. Shit‚ Jay‚ I’m really worried about you! Why’d you have to get involved?’