Daniel Lewis – Naaim had wanted to throttle him the day he’d walked into his house. And then he’d had his chance at redemption‚ of putting an end to it all. But like the weasel that he was‚ he had weaselled out of it.
Simon Carpenter‚ his dirty filthy hands all over Layla‚ his tongue inside her mouth. Ripping off her hijab and pouring alcohol over her head. When Naaim had revealed the detonator‚ Simon was the only one who hadn’t run.
He will.
Naaim picked up the first plastic bottle and shook it. The satisfying sound of the masonry nails rattling and the hotter-than-hell corrosive acid swishing in rhythm. He counted five in his head and then with a feral roar that he didn’t know he was capable of‚ Naaim launched the bottle as hard as he could. He watched it arc high and then drop perfectly in the middle of the desperate mob‚ clawing at the exit.
There wasn’t a loud explosion. If there was one‚ he didn’t hear it. But from the way they scattered and stumbled around in all directions‚ trampling over each other and clutching their faces‚ Naaim knew that the little improvised bombs he and Ira had created in his bathtub were working with devastating effect.
He smiled and picked up another bottle.
82
Jay
I twisted my ankle as I landed‚ the pain shooting up my leg. I stayed down on my haunches and put my hand to it. I didn’t have the luxury of taking in my surroundings or working out a plan‚ as terrified screams ripped through the hall and across the car park.
‘You’re too late‚ Jay.’ Ira rattled the gate from the other side.
Fuck you‚ I thought. I didn’t have the time to say it. I got to my feet and ran‚ the pain in my ankle easing with every stride as I picked up speed. In front of me was a maze of tightly-packed motors. Without breaking my stride I used the bumper of an old classic Capri to give me a leg up‚ then scaled to the roof and stepped from car to car towards the hall. I climbed down a white Range Rover and approached the entrance to the hall.
The heavy pounding of fists from the other side of the double doors mingled with the distressed screams. There was a metal bar looped into the door handles. I tried to slide it out but the doors were being pushed towards me so hard‚ straining at the hinges‚ that it had wedged the metal bar in tightly.
‘Move back!’ I shouted. ‘Move away from the door!’
I pushed the door back with all my might‚ but I was pushing against fuck knows how many people. Behind those doors‚ something suddenly changed. The screams of help were now groans of despair. I felt a little slack against the force of the door‚ the metal bar loosened and rattled against the door handles. I slipped it out and it clanged to the floor. I knew what was coming. I had to get the fuck out of the way. Quickly.
The door flew open with such speed and ferocity that it clipped the side of my head. I stumbled back‚ just managing to catch myself from falling‚ but a body came flying out‚ slamming me onto my backside. Another tripped over my leg and I watched him land on me. His bloody face‚ inches away from mine‚ was punctured with nails.
‘The fuck away from me‚’ I screamed‚ as he dripped blood onto my face. I pushed him off me as a flurry of boots blurred by me. I got to my feet and stood with my back against the wall to one side. The footfall lessened and I took a deep breath and peered into the hall.
That same rancid smell from Naaim’s house was now mixed with burning flesh‚ and made me throw up a little in my mouth. I covered my nose and mouth with my arm and took it all in. There remained around a dozen men in the hall‚ staggering‚ crawling around like Night of the Living Dead. Smoke was coming off them as the acid greedily ate through their punctured skin. All were looking to me for help.
Fuck. Fuck. Fuck. I still didn’t have a fucking plan.
I could just about make out the stage at the back‚ two burning flags and Naaim’s small figure in between them. To my left Anthony was curled up in a ball under the drinks table. To my right‚ Daniel had ducked behind the abandoned DJ booth. He poked his head around and I gestured with my hand to stay the fuck down. He quickly retreated.
Simon was stood at the foot of the stage‚ the only one not to have scarpered. I ran the length of the hall‚ still trying to figure out whose fucking side I was on. Naaim registered my arrival with a sweet smile on his face‚ like his mate had just rocked up. Plastic bottles were neatly lined up by his feet.
I grabbed Simon by the arm. ‘Get the fuck out‚ now.’ He didn’t even so much as register my presence. Like Naaim‚ he was ready to go all the way. ‘Naaim‚’ I screamed‚ and I didn’t know what else to say.
Naaim was no longer that innocent boy who’d sat helplessly on the bus and watched the girl he loved suffer humiliation at the hands of those ignorant thugs. They’d turned Naaim into whatever it was that was standing in front of me – a product of his environment. He’d be labelled and treated as a terrorist for the rest of his miserable life‚ and every mouth would open and form an opinion‚ and turn this into something that it never was. Pure and simple‚ Naaim had avenged Layla.
‘I did it‚ Jay‚’ Naaim shouted‚ his arms spread to indicate the destruction around him.
Yeah... You did.
It was then that I noticed he had something gripped in his fist‚ his thumb firmly pressed on the trigger. I’d wondered briefly how one man‚ one boy‚ had managed to take control of a hall full of men. Men who could have easily ripped off his arm and beaten him with it. Even with the bottled acid‚ he could easily have been outnumbered and swallowed whole.
I followed the wire trailing from the detonator. It was tucked into his shirt‚ but with his arms spread victoriously‚ the wire had popped out of his jeans and was now dangling uselessly by his waist.
Oh‚ you fucking idiot!
I glanced across at Simon‚ hoping‚ praying that he hadn’t clocked it. The sides of his mouth curled up and he took one long stride forward. Naaim thrust his arm forward‚ the fake fucking detonator in his hand. Simon grabbed his arm and wrenched him off the stage. Naaim dropped at his feet.
I stepped in between them and put my hands out in a conciliatory manner. Simon also put his hand out‚ nothing conciliatory about it‚ and I could do nothing as the brass knuckle duster raced its way into my face.
The last thing I heard before I blacked out was the crack of my nose exploding.
83
Derelict Building Site, South London
From behind the DJ booth‚ Daniel looked out at the men that he was on his way to becoming. Bleeding‚ begging and crawling for the exit. Their clothes shred and smoking‚ their features removed from their faces. The majority had escaped. Daniel could have too. He could have left his spot and run out of the hall. Run all the way home from South to West London‚ locked his bedroom door and tucked himself up in bed. But he’d had a hand in creating this‚ now he’d have a hand in ending it all. A chance at redemption that would eat away at the guilt that had been consuming him.
He could see Jay‚ laid out on the floor‚ blood streaking from his nose down both sides of his cheeks. Next to him‚ Simon was on his knees‚ straddling Naaim‚ relentlessly raining blows down on his face.
Across the hall was Anthony‚ curled up under the drinks table in the foetal position. Daniel left his post and carefully negotiated his way around the casualties. Many were not fatal‚ but probably wished they were. He crouched under the table and shook Anthony by the shoulder.
‘Anthony. Anthony.’
Anthony slowly turned onto his back. He looked up listlessly at the underside of the table. The side of his face had melted away. The white of his jaw on display.
‘Anthony?’ Daniel asked‚ unsure if it was his friend that he was looking at.
‘My eyes.’ Tears ran freely down Anthony’s ruined face as his body shook. ‘I can’t see anything.’
‘I’m going to get help‚’ Daniel said‚ and thought How? ‘It’s going to be okay‚’ he said‚ and then thought It’s not. His pho
ne had been knocked out of his hand in the scramble for escape. He ran across the hall‚ calling Simon’s name. Simon had given his fists a rest and was now towering over Naaim‚ viciously kicking him in the stomach.
‘Simon!’ Daniel had to raise his voice. The fire had latched onto the curtains and was starting to roar. ‘Anthony needs help. It’s all over his face.’ Simon stopped and looked over at Anthony. From his reaction he’d recognised the horror on his friend’s face.
‘I need your phone‚’ Daniel pleaded. ‘We have to call for help.’
Simon took his eyes off Anthony and picked up a bottle from the stage. He calmly unscrewed the cap.
‘Simon‚ please. It’s gone too far. We have to call for an ambulance?’ Daniel cried‚ but he knew from the fire dancing wildly in Simon’s eyes that he had lost his friend to madness.
Daniel stepped away‚ keeping low as the fire threatened to overwhelm him. He crawled over to Jay‚ coughing as the smoke filled his lungs. Daniel shook him by the shoulders and noticed rapid movement behind his eyelids.
Jay blinked his eyes open. Looked up at Daniel. And smiled at him.
84
Jay
I was feeling hot‚ as though someone had turned the thermostat right the way up‚ and I was in my bed‚ wearing my winter jacket‚ a thick duvet wrapped tightly round me. It felt comfortable‚ but that fucking roar in my ears wouldn’t let me sleep. I opened my eyes‚ determined to seek the offending sound.
Above me Daniel was staring down at me‚ and I couldn’t figure out what he was doing in my bedroom. His face registered deep concern‚ as though he needed to find solace in a friendly face. So‚ you know‚ I smiled at him. Behind him‚ the roar that wouldn’t let me sleep was the sound of the fucking stage burning brightly. Daniel helped me up into a sitting position‚ but before I could clear my head‚ I heard a piercing scream. I followed it. Naaim‚ on the floor‚ his arms covering his face as Simon rained searing-hot liquid and shrapnel over him.
I shot to my feet and ran hard‚ building up whatever momentum I could in the short distance between us‚ and connected head-first with Simon’s midriff‚ knocking him away from Naaim. The plastic bottle dropped from his hand as he fell back‚ with me in his grip‚ on top of him. I kept my weight on him and pinned him down.
‘Go!’ I screamed. ‘I’m right behind you!’ Daniel helped Naaim to his feet‚ who was stumbling on the spot‚ his right arm badly burnt and the side of his face massacred beyond recognition. I noticed his hand shaking as he reached behind the tail of his shirt and gripped something.
Fucking Simon was strong. I kept him down as long as I could‚ but he reached up and grabbed me by the back of the head‚ jerking it forward towards him. My already fucked up nose smashed painfully against his forehead, dazzling me. He pushed me away easily and rose to his feet.
I was fucking exhausted‚ man‚ I swear to God. On my back‚ with the fire keeping me warm‚ I was tempted to stay that way. I silently prayed for the police to make their presence felt right about now‚ because Simon did not seem like he was going to walk away until he’d killed Naaim. I didn’t think I could stop him.
But I had to try. I had to match his determination.
Ignoring the fantastic pain in my face‚ I got onto my hands and knees‚ expecting to see Simon launching another attack on Naaim.
But Naaim had gone.
In his place‚ Daniel was lying on the floor. Eyes peacefully closed. Blood streaming out of a large wound in his stomach.
I scrambled over and grabbed Daniel from under his arms and started to drag him away from the fire. ‘Help me!’ I screamed at Simon‚ but he was already backing away. With whatever I had left in the tank I slowly dragged Daniel across the hall‚ away from the burning stage. ‘Fucking stay with me‚ Daniel.’
I could clearly hear the sirens‚ the blue lights illuminating the hall through a small window. At a safe distance from the fire‚ I laid Daniel down and applied pressure on the wound with one hand‚ trying to find his pulse with the other.
Behind me‚ armed police ran into the hall. I put my hand up to get their attention‚ but they dismissed me and fanned out‚ attempting to establish the threat.
‘I need help here!’
A medic put a hand on my shoulder‚ and another gently removed Daniel’s head from my lap.
‘I can’t find a pulse‚’ I said quietly.
85
Imy
I picked up the Glock from my flat and tucked it into the back of my jeans. I slipped the silencer into my inside jacket pocket and drove to Javid’s house. His drive was empty.
I parked across the road‚ the Glock digging into my skin‚ a constant reminder of my jihad. I didn’t need to be reminded. I knew damn well what I had to do. I moved the piece away from my skin and slipped it under an old property newspaper on the passenger seat. As I waited for Javid to return‚ I called Stephanie.
‘Steph. Are you home?’ I asked.
‘Yes. Where are you?’ Hesitancy in her voice‚ she cleared it away. ‘Your uncle is here.’
I gripped the phone so tightly that I could have crushed it in my hands. ‘Where?’
‘Downstairs. Playing with Jack.’ I came down hard against the steering wheel with my fist. ‘How well do you know him‚ Imy?’ Steph asked.
‘I know him well.’ I kept my voice neutral.
‘He... he’s making me uncomfortable. He keeps leering at me and asking me about my wedding dress.’
‘Listen to me carefully‚ Steph.’ I failed to keep the urgency out of my voice. ‘Treat him as you would any other guest‚ I’ll be home as soon as I can.’
‘When?’
I looked across at the empty drive. I had estimated the hit would take no longer than four minutes‚ from stepping out to returning to my car. I had covered my shoes in clear plastic bags. Leather gloves tight around my hands. The Glock sitting within my reach. All that was missing was Javid Qasim.
‘When‚ Imran?’ Stephanie asked again.
‘I have to finish this.’
‘Come home soon.’
‘I will. Let me speak to him.’
I could hear her padding her way downstairs. Jack’s voice‚ screeching excitedly‚ as though he was being tickled. Pathaan’s hands all over him.
‘It’s Imy‚ he wants a word.’
I heard snatches of conversation as I pictured Stephanie talking to him through a forced smile.
‘I’ll make some tea.’
‘Four sugars.’
‘Jack come help me.’
‘But Mum. I want to play with him.’
‘Please‚ Jack.’
The phone changed hands and there was a moment of silence as they left the room.
‘I hear congratulations are in order. I wonder‚ will I get an invite?’
‘Pathaan Bhai.’ I hated myself for still calling him Bhai‚ to still afford him that respect. ‘It’s not what you think.’
‘You have no idea what I think‚ Imran‚’ he sneered. ‘You have become weak. You have surrounded yourself with weak people. Sinful people. Fallen in love with the enemy. A great shame you have brought upon yourself... I assume that you received my message.’
‘Shaz had nothing to do with this‚’ I said‚ quietly.
‘I felt that you needed incentive‚ Imran. It seems like you have forgotten that your parents were raped and killed by the very same Kafirs that you now defend.’ There was an edge to his voice‚ and I didn’t respond for fear of unsettling him further. ‘Is it done?’
‘I’m outside his house‚ waiting for him to return.’
‘Sunday has come‚ Imran. The Sheikh will not be pleased. I won’t be pleased.’
‘I still have a couple of hours.’
‘If you want... I can give you further motivation.’
‘Bhai‚ no.’
‘Maybe I’ll play family man for a while. I hear the white woman can be very pleasing.’
*
&
nbsp; My hand slipped under the newspaper and gripped the Glock every time a car turned onto the road‚ Pathaan’s final words relentlessly ringing in my ears as I waited. A grey Volkswagen Passat slowed and pulled up behind me. A man wearing a dark suit stepped out‚ crossed the road, and approached Jay’s house. I checked the time on the dash‚ it had just gone ten. He didn’t seem to be in a hurry to leave‚ giving me the impression that Jay wasn’t far away.
A further thirty minutes had passed when a red Vauxhall Nova rattled towards me‚ black smoke spattering out of the exhaust. It turned into the drive.
The car door opened‚ and Javid stepped out.
86
Jay
Will this fucking night ever end?
I groaned to myself upon seeing Teddy Lawrence through my windscreen‚ but I wasn’t entirely surprised. I’d just returned from giving a statement at Croydon Nick‚ and my name would have lit up like a firework back at Thames House.
‘I came alone.’ Lawrence smiled as I stepped out of the car. ‘No helicopters‚ no police cars‚ no fanfare. Just me and you‚ buddy.’
I sighed‚ opened the front door. Lawrence followed close behind in case I slammed the door in his grinning face. I wanted to. ‘Wait here.’ I directed him into the living room and headed to the kitchen‚ noisily opening and slamming cabinet doors until I found what I was looking for. ‘Wanna drink?’ I called out‚ my good manners betraying me.
‘No‚’ he said. ‘I’m good.’
I walked into the living room‚ glass tumbler in hand. Chivas Regal. No mixer. No ice. My drink as raw as I was feeling. I slumped down on my armchair and let my body sink into it. I wasn’t getting up anytime soon.
‘Jesus‚ Jay.’ He stood over me‚ taking me in.
My face was coloured with blood from my twice-broken nose. My clothes were cold and damp from when Daniel had bled over me. My heart had pounded so hard for so long that I could no longer feel it ticking over. I blinked blankly at him.
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