Mikey Burrows had spent the couple of hours since the two dodgy looking bastards had walked into his pub watching the clock. Three nights in a row these two had been in. Arriving just after nine each night and leaving 20 minutes before Mikey called lasties.
But tonight things were different, tonight last orders had been called 10 minutes ago and they hadn’t moved. There were only a few stragglers left. And them. The glasses on their table were all but empty and had been that way for 45 minutes, just enough in the bottom so that they weren’t going to get collected and they’d not have to buy another drink. Either they were tight fuckers or they were keeping a clear head as they had plans after hours, either way Mikey wasn’t happy.
Two nights earlier when these two had walked in for the first time, Mikey hadn’t paid them much attention at first. There was no reason to, this was a holiday town and despite The Anchor being a local’s pub, being off the track of the main tourist areas, the occasional new face wasn’t uncommon. Some holidaymakers liked to explore beyond the traditional bench front shite and find an authentic seaside town pub. However as that first night went on Mikey found his focus pulled towards these men. One in his late forties and looking like an extra from a bad TV gangster movie, all cheap suit and Brylcreem. The second man was so young he barely qualified for the title, he dressed less formally but equally cheaply. Mikey noticed that they’d hardly spoken to each other as they sat at a table in the centre of his pub. They were more interested in watching the room than having a cheeky pint. When they’d left at 10.30, neither man spoke. They just got up and left, it was like they were on a schedule. That night Mikey was extra cautious as he locked up and made sure he had a little extra security under his mattress when he went to bed.
Last night it had been exactly the same routine, turn up, one pint each, nurse it for far too long then leave at 10.30 without a word. Tonight’s change of routine told Mikey to be ready, for what he had no clue. Fuck it, enough was enough, Mikey came out from behind the bar and made his way over to them. If something was going to happen he was going to force their hand, put them on the back foot from the start, let them know that he was on to them.
As he made his approach both men grinned. It wasn’t the ‘Oh shit he’s coming over’ reaction Mikey had been hoping for. No backing out now though.
‘You finished with these lads?’ Mikey had his shovel sized hands around each of the glasses on the table at which the men sat.
‘Yeah they’re done thanks Mikey.’ Said the older of the two men.
OK so they knew his name, and they knew to use ‘Mikey’ not Michael, Mike or Mick, they hadn’t just read it from the license above the door. So whatever it was they were here for it involved him. He let go of the glasses and took a seat at the table.
‘Right you boys are clearly after something so how about you come out with it.’ His confident tone was not matched by the stirring in his bowels. Mikey was a big man and could take care of himself but he wasn’t stupid and knew it was best to be fearful of the unknown quantities.
‘Not yet.’ The older man said looking around the room at the stragglers finishing up their drinks. The younger man hadn’t said a word and had barely moved, in fact that grin was still all over his face. He might have been mute or a statue but he was doing a fine job of putting the shits up Mikey.
Mikey stood up and looked around. ‘Right you lot bugger off, I’ve got things to do here.’ He shouted out. There were a few reluctant groans and dragged feet but within a less than a minute Mikey found he was alone with his unwanted guests.
The older man looked at his young friend and gave him a nod, with that the lad stood up and walked to the pub entrance. He slipped the bolts across and made his way back to the table.
Perhaps Mikey was now wearing his fear on his face because the older man quickly tried to reassure him. ‘Don’t worry Mikey we’re not here to do you a mischief.’ Although the words were meant to reassure, Mikey still found the tone held a threat he couldn’t quite shake from his mind.
‘So what exactly is it you want that can’t be discussed in front of my punters then?’ He was trying to be brave but if truth be known he was loading brick after brick in his stomach.
‘We need a man with your special skill set Mikey.’ The young man still hadn’t spoken.
‘Pulling pints and selling crisps?’ Mikey asked. He knew where this was going but he wasn’t exactly going to lay things on a plate for two blokes he’d never met. They wanted something they could come out and say it, there was no need to speak in riddles no one was bugging a little pub in Dorset.
‘We were thinking more of your other profession, behind the wheel.’
‘I’m in the pub game now, all that’s behind me.’
‘Perhaps two grand will be enough to put it back in front of you?’ Brylcreem said. ‘The pub game isn’t exactly thriving, we read the papers.’
He was right about that it had been a struggle recently, there’d been a couple of times when a can of petrol and a match were looking like they could be his soundest financial investment over the past year. Mikey wasn’t ready to show that hand to these boys yet though and as he was relaxing into the conversation went for ‘You read?’
‘Very good.’ The grin was back on the older chaps face. It still hadn’t left his colleagues.
‘I might be interested, but my fee is four grand.’ Mikey knew if they’d opened with two grand then there was more in the pot. ‘But I’m going to need some details from you boys first, starting with your names and who told you about me.’
‘I’m Jack Francis and this little fucker is Dean Arnold, we can go to four K but that’s it and you can check us out by giving your old friend Rick Thompson a call.’ He’d said their names as if they should mean something to Mikey, they didn’t but Thompson’s did and everything fell into place.
‘When do you need me?’
‘Wednesday night, don’t worry we can go after closing time.’
‘Right this is what’s going to happen, I’m going to give Rick a call and if he says you’re ok I’ll call you and we’ll talk about what you want me to do. But right now I’m going to bed and you’re going wherever you go.’ Mikey felt like he had the trump hand, they needed his help and if they were willing to pay 4K for it they needed it pretty bad.
‘OK just let me give you my number.’ Jack said.
‘Don’t bother, if Rick knows you he’ll have your number right?’
‘Yeah but I can just give it to you now.’
‘I’d rather get it from Rick.’ Mikey was being extra cautious, he always had been when it came to this side of his life. People probably thought he was paranoid, Jack clearly did and even Dean had swapped his grin for a look of confusion, but he’d never been caught and he was going to keep it that way. Rick might confirm that he knew Jack Francis and Dean Arnold but that didn’t mean these two were them. At least if Mikey got the number from Rick it was another check on things.
‘Whatever you want mate.’ Jack said clearly confused. ‘Come on Dean.’
They both stood to leave and Mikey followed them to the door, he slid down the bolts and pushed the door so it swung open.
‘One thing lads.’ Mikey said as Jack and Dean stood in the road outside. ‘What was with the three nights surveillance?’
‘We needed to be sure you were who we were looking for and not just the barman.’ Jack responded.
These boys weren’t too bright. ‘You didn’t think to save yourselves some time and me some worry by asking?’
The phone rang twice before it was answered.
‘Hello?’ It was a question filled with suspicion rather than a greeting.
‘That Jack?’ Mikey asked.
‘Mikey?’
‘In one. So I spoke to Rick, you boys check out, so I guess we get to work together. What time do we need to be where we need to be and how long will it take to get there?’
‘Takes about half hour from your place and it doesn’t matter what time we get there it’s a…’
‘That’s enough, I don’t need to know anything but timings.’ Mikey’s paranoia came into play again. He liked to keep the information he had on a job to a minimum for two reasons, his mind was on the road and not the nasty bastards that might be chasing him as he drove away, secondly the less he knew the smaller the chances of someone offing him because he could give them away.
‘As you wish.’ Jack replied.
‘Right do you know the main car park by the beach?’
‘The one on top of the hill?’
‘That’s the one, I’ll see you boys there at midnight tomorrow.’ Mikey killed the line.
They were walking around the car park peering into car windows when Mikey arrived at 12.01 am. He pulled up alongside them as they over optimistically looked into the window of a new plate BMW X5.
‘Yeah because that would be the subtle car of choice for a getaway driver.’ Mikey said sarcastically out of the open window of a 19 year old Ford Escort.
‘What the fuck is that thing?’ Jack asked appraising the vehicle with disapproving eyes. Dean looked at the car as if he’d never seen one before and at his age it was possible he hadn’t.
‘Get in.’ Mikey said.
Both men jumped in and Mikey drove.
‘Directions.’ Mikey demanded as he drove.
Jack told Mikey where to go. Mikey stuck to the speed limit on the empty roads. He’d kept his window down to try and get a breeze through the car on a stifling humid night, there was no air conditioning and the blowers seemed to be out of order. He’d tilted the rearview mirror so that he could keep an eye on his passengers. Dean had been carrying a bag when he got in the car and he was now checking the contents.
‘I’m guessing you’ve got guns in that bag there young Dean.’ Mikey said. ‘Make sure they don’t come above the window line whilst we’re on the road ok?’
Dean nodded and Mikey wondered if he’d ever spoken.
‘Seriously Mikey, what the fuck is with this piece of shite car?’ Jack asked.
‘This piece of shite car was easy to steal.’ Mikey responded. Did they honestly expect him to turn up in a brand new Merc having gotten past its multiple security features? ‘How about you just stick to giving the directions.’
‘Not far now, couple of minutes tops.’
Apparently Dean took this piece of information as an instruction to pull a balaclava over his head.
‘What the fuck do you think you’re doing son? Take that fucking thing off.’ Mikey said without taking his eyes off the road. ‘I tell you not to stick a gun above the window line but you think it’s ok to stick that thing over your head on the hottest night of the year. You keep that off until you’re out of the car.’
Dean took the balaclava off and Mikey caught daggers from him in the rearview. His eyes said he wanted to use one of the guns in his bag to stick a hole right through Mikey. A clip with the back of Jack’s hand and a look from the older man was enough to turn Dean’s look from hate to sheepish.
‘Pull up here on the right.’ Jack said outside a detached house.
‘On the right? Fuck off. I’ll turn it around so we’re parked on the left, last thing we need is to plough into oncoming traffic as we drive off.’ Mikey thought that was obvious.
Jack did a quick 360 of the street. ‘What fucking traffic?’
‘How about you boys do your job and I’ll do mine.’ Mikey replied wondering if dealing with these idiots was really worth the money. Within seconds he’d turned the car around and pulled up. Jack and Dean jumped out, each carrying an empty bag and shotguns and pulling on balaclavas. They made their way towards the house and Mikey kept his eyes on the road ready to roll when they came running back out.
Mikey heard gunshots from within the house and his eyes were involuntarily pulled towards their direction. This was when he earned his money. It was all about having the bollocks to stick it out and see if it was his boys that emerged from the house or some nut pissed off at being robbed that was going to start taking pot shots at the getaway driver. He didn’t have to wait long to see Jack and Dean running back across the front garden their empty bags now full and their guns a little lighter.
‘Drop those shooters there.’ Mikey called whilst reaching over and opening the passenger doors front and back. The raiders obliged and jumped in.
‘Go!’ Jack screamed as he sat next to Mikey and Mikey’s foot hit the floor.
‘I fucking did ‘em Jack, I fucking did ‘em!’ Dean’s voice was as childlike as his features and was foreign to Mikey’s ears. The lad was buzzing with excitement at what had just happened and Mikey could see now what Dean’s role had been in the whole thing. He was there to put people down, Jack wasn’t that man. ‘Wooow!’ Dean cried out the excitement still building in him.
‘Keep him quiet.’ Mikey said to Jack, who turned and started talking quietly to his younger counterpart. After a couple of minutes Dean had calmed down, but Mikey’s glances back in the rearview let him know that the lad was still running high with adrenalin.
The 30-minute drive back to the car park above the beach was done in less than 20 and went without incident once Dean was hushed. Mikey pulled up the handbrake and it crunched loudly against its mechanisms. The next sound was the back windshield exploding as a bullet tore through it and made a pulp of Dean’s head. Mikey looked at Jack in time to register his shock and see his head explode into the front windshield. He paused for a moment and felt blood and tissue dripping from his face before turning to see Rick Thompson behind the car the barrel of his gun still hot.
‘Don’t forget the bags.’ Thompson shouted to Mikey as the driver climbed out of the car and smiled at his old friend. Mikey through both bags in Thompson’s direction, a 50/50 split of whatever was in them was going to see him come out with more than the four grand he’d negotiated with Jack and Dean.
‘You could have waited for me to get out of the way.’ Mikey called. ‘Look at the state of me!’
‘We needed them in the car, if you’d got out so would they.’ Thompson handed Mikey a can of petrol and Mikey doused the car and flicked in a lit match.
‘So whose money is this?’ Mikey asked as they watched the car to ensure that it caught.
‘Some dealer that thought he could muscle in on my areas.’ Thompson said unzipping one of the bags and bouncing a pack of coke that he’d pull from inside in one hand. ‘There’s got to be 20 grand worth of gear here and the same again in cash.’
‘When are you going to do one of those jobs yourself?’ Mikey asked with a huge grin.
‘You’re a funny fucker aren’t you?’ Thompson responded. ‘Now get me out of here.’
Mikey moved behind Rick Thompson and pushed his wheelchair towards a second getaway car.
by 
Aidan Thorn
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Good story, nice twist. I do like a bit of dripping blood and tissue
Really enjoyed it : ) Keep ’em coming
Another fantastic read. Blood, guts and double crossing…remind me not to mess with you!
Hard hitting, gritty and with a tasty twist.