shop so he only selected a few
from here. Alongside the Glock he had already used today he selected the mini Uzi
and his elephant pistol. This was a
massive handgun designed to be used by the Los Angeles motorcycle cops. The gun was so powerful that the cops would
pull up alongside any car that would not stop, draw the gun and shoot through
the car’s engine. It worked beautifully,
seizing up any engine it hit but it was so difficult to handle it was only in
service for a couple of years and was now a collector’s item.
Collins wrapped this and the other guns in the towels along with a
few tools, plenty of ammunition, cleaning rags and some oil and placed them
into the other bag. He replaced the
concealed door and quickly carried both heavy bags down to the garage. He opened the boot of the Audi A6 and put both
bags in it.
Knowing The Firm was on their way for a cleanup he did not lock
anything, just pulled out onto the quiet street. He drove carefully checking to ensure he was
not followed, he then circled back. Some
two miles from his house there was a row of private lock up garages. Unbeknown to anyone, he owned them all. He opened the third garage and drove in the
A6. He transferred everything to a new
black Range Rover with dark tinted privacy windows that he knew was not traceable
back to him. From a rack at the back of
the garage, he gathered his escape bag. Time was moving on and he powered out of the garage hitting the electric
button that closed the doors behind him. He was operational and now on the run.
. . . . . .
Surge jogged back to his pub, quickly showered and then sat down at
his desk. He wrote two letters, one to
his solicitor which he put a first class stamp on and one to Steve which read;
Dear Steve
I have to go away for a while. Please look after the pub for the next few
weeks. If you haven’t burnt it down by
my return, there will be a nice bonus for you.
If I do not return within
six months I have instructed my solicitor to sign the pub over to you.
Good luck,
Surge
He put that in a
plain white envelope and scrawled Steve on the front.
He pulled out his escape bag from a small,
cleverly concealed box in the bottom of his wardrobe which all field staff have
in case of emergencies. It held his
passports in various names, working credit cards and money. To this he added clothes and his wash bag. He walked downstairs, put the bag behind the
counter and went looking for Steve. Unfortunately
he was out but he bumped into Jonny, Steve’s erstwhile, helper, waiter and friend.
“Give this to Steve when you see him will
you?” said Surge giving the envelope to Jonny who stuffed it into the pocket of
his scruffy jeans.
With the other letter in his hand, Surge started
to walk into town.
Chapter 14
Putting out the Rubbish
Paul the Chemist was in bed when the front door bell rang
and rang and rang. “Someone must be
leaning on the button!” he thought.
He finally dragged himself out of his pit and went looking
for the wanker who had disturbed him. In
the front room music was still belting out and beer cans, last night’s takeaway
and what was left of the drugs were all over the filthy floor. Donkey was snoring on the sofa, too lazy
after last night’s excesses to go to bed and Charisma Jim was nowhere to be
seen.
At the door Paul looked through the eyehole. On the other side was the old publican from
down the road.
“Well this is going to be his unlucky day,” thought
Paul. “Who the fuck does he think he is
knocking on my door?”
Paul threw open the door and was just about to move forward
when Surge hit him in the throat. It was
a perfect hit with just enough force, the strike was aimed at a nerve to the
right of the main artery it allowed Paul to
from here. Alongside the Glock he had already used today he selected the mini Uzi
and his elephant pistol. This was a
massive handgun designed to be used by the Los Angeles motorcycle cops. The gun was so powerful that the cops would
pull up alongside any car that would not stop, draw the gun and shoot through
the car’s engine. It worked beautifully,
seizing up any engine it hit but it was so difficult to handle it was only in
service for a couple of years and was now a collector’s item.
Collins wrapped this and the other guns in the towels along with a
few tools, plenty of ammunition, cleaning rags and some oil and placed them
into the other bag. He replaced the
concealed door and quickly carried both heavy bags down to the garage. He opened the boot of the Audi A6 and put both
bags in it.
Knowing The Firm was on their way for a cleanup he did not lock
anything, just pulled out onto the quiet street. He drove carefully checking to ensure he was
not followed, he then circled back. Some
two miles from his house there was a row of private lock up garages. Unbeknown to anyone, he owned them all. He opened the third garage and drove in the
A6. He transferred everything to a new
black Range Rover with dark tinted privacy windows that he knew was not traceable
back to him. From a rack at the back of
the garage, he gathered his escape bag. Time was moving on and he powered out of the garage hitting the electric
button that closed the doors behind him. He was operational and now on the run.
. . . . . .
Surge jogged back to his pub, quickly showered and then sat down at
his desk. He wrote two letters, one to
his solicitor which he put a first class stamp on and one to Steve which read;
Dear Steve
I have to go away for a while. Please look after the pub for the next few
weeks. If you haven’t burnt it down by
my return, there will be a nice bonus for you.
If I do not return within
six months I have instructed my solicitor to sign the pub over to you.
Good luck,
Surge
He put that in a
plain white envelope and scrawled Steve on the front.
He pulled out his escape bag from a small,
cleverly concealed box in the bottom of his wardrobe which all field staff have
in case of emergencies. It held his
passports in various names, working credit cards and money. To this he added clothes and his wash bag. He walked downstairs, put the bag behind the
counter and went looking for Steve. Unfortunately
he was out but he bumped into Jonny, Steve’s erstwhile, helper, waiter and friend.
“Give this to Steve when you see him will
you?” said Surge giving the envelope to Jonny who stuffed it into the pocket of
his scruffy jeans.
With the other letter in his hand, Surge started
to walk into town.
Chapter 14
Putting out the Rubbish
Paul the Chemist was in bed when the front door bell rang
and rang and rang. “Someone must be
leaning on the button!” he thought.
He finally dragged himself out of his pit and went looking
for the wanker who had disturbed him. In
the front room music was still belting out and beer cans, last night’s takeaway
and what was left of the drugs were all over the filthy floor. Donkey was snoring on the sofa, too lazy
after last night’s excesses to go to bed and Charisma Jim was nowhere to be
seen.
At the door Paul looked through the eyehole. On the other side was the old publican from
down the road.
“Well this is going to be his unlucky day,” thought
Paul. “Who the fuck does he think he is
knocking on my door?”
Paul threw open the door and was just about to move forward
when Surge hit him in the throat. It was
a perfect hit with just enough force, the strike was aimed at a nerve to the
right of the main artery it allowed Paul to
Similar Books
