Look, we can sort this. Please J…
I had no choice but to shoot the bastard square in the forehead. I didn't want him to talk. The bullet penetrated his brain. Cartwright's dead body slipped off the chair and onto the floor to lie in his own piss.
That'll have to do, I thought.
I went to Nick, pulled his hood up to just over his nose and ripped off the gaffer tape gagging him. 'Who are…' He tried to struggle but he never got to finish the question as I ripped open the polythene package and placed a chloroformed cloth over his mouth and nose. He was out in seconds.
I cut through the bonds holding him to the chair, his wrists and ankles were still secured by tape but I didn't have time to do anything about it. I pulled him up and over my shoulder and made my way out of the office quickly and then carefully down the stairs. Going past the boxes again I wondered what was in them but now it didn't matter and I really didn't care!
Opening the door gently I peeked outside. Luckily it was all quiet.
I made my way through the industrial estate as quickly as I could until I found the gap in the fence that separated it from the houses and dragged Nick through after me. Pulling him down the embankment to the car I opened it without taking the keys out of my pocket. The car lit up like a Christmas tree as the hazards flashed and the interior light came on.
I quickly pushed my son into the boot and closed the lid. It wouldn't be too uncomfortable, as I'd put a thick duvet in there.
I didn't want to be stopped by the police with a comatose body trussed up like a turkey on the back seat of my BMW. If I was stopped all they would find was a pub bouncer going home after his shift.
I drove carefully back to his mothers house making sure I didn't get caught by any speed cameras and even at that time of the morning there was a lot of traffic around.
When I got him back to his home I cut off the rest of the tape and carried him to the front door and propped him up against it. He would be awake soon.
I removed the hood and rang the doorbell for a few seconds before running back to the car. As I slowly pulled away I could see the hall light come on and the door opened a few seconds later.
I headed the car northwards with plenty of time to think about who set me up. I promised to find them and then there would be hell to pay!
BIO:
On sick leave from his job in banking Ian McAdam read books by Matt Hilton and Stephen Leather as well as many short story compilations. It was whilst on holiday that he thought to write short stories himself. With help from Matt Hilton, Graham Smith and Col Bury he forged out several stories that were distributed to friends and family. It is, he has come to realise, a long journey.
JACK BE NIMBLE By Gavin Hunt
Breathing steady, the heart rate slowed down as anticipation grew.
Every sound heard but not one made by myself. The thick walls muffled the talking inside the house. There was never a good time to go in, when the right time came, I would take it.
Centred on the lock, the wooden door held no resistance as it splintered on impact. Two smoke grenades rolled in, fumes billowed out filling the room in a blue dust. Hands grabbed for guns as men scrambled to their feet, chairs and tables kicked out from beneath. Through the thick smoke, they could see nothing. The sound of the breaking door meant they knew the direction to fire and they all obliged. Bullets flew, striking nothing but wall.
I was no longer there. Swiftly moving inside, stealth now became my best friend. Hugging the walls, I made my way around. They realised too late that I now stood behind them. Slashing the throat of the first, the knife coated with death as blood spurted forth. My second victim stood in close proximity.
Dropping to my knees, he spun around seeing his friend’s dead body fall to floor. Firing where I once stood, he played the game of chance that the I stood close. His mistake. The first knife pierced straight through leather, skin, blood and bone, pinning his foot to the wooden floor. By the time he registered the pain, the action repeated itself on his next foot. Panic washed over his face. It lasted seconds. Rising from the crouched position with a third knife in hand, I stopped my enemy’s heart from the back. With the smoke dissipating, time began to run out. I had no option.
Drawing two guns from the rear waistband, my quick fire turned the scene into a bloodbath. Two more bodies fell, blood covering walls and floors. The last figure made a run for the door. There was no way anyone was leaving here alive. A bullet in the head stopped him dead in his tracks. With the ground floor clear, time to get down to the series business. In an upstairs bedroom was what I came for.
Marcus Reynolds, fat, bald and the wrong side of fifty, yet he still surrounded himself with young women and girls. He sat upon the bed, two naked girls cowered in a corner, arms wrapped one another for support, bed sheets draped over naked flesh. I ordered them to get out. I set them free from Marcus’ wrath and the life of forced prostitution.
I made my request simple. “I want what’s in the safe.”
“There’s nothing in there and even if there was, I don’t have the combination.”
“Don’t make me ask again. Open the safe, give me what’s inside and I’ll let you live.”
“And if I don’t?”
“Is that a chance your willing to take?” I pulled out my second gun. Both of them trained on his chest.
“You have any idea who you’re fucking with?”
“I wouldn’t be here otherwise would I now Marcus.” His blatant disregard was not winning me over. The sound of his name made him more alert. I could hear the clocks hands ticking away inside my head. “Give me the contents of the safe and I’ll let you live.”
Marcus laughed right back at me. “Don’t take me for a fool. You will kill me as soon as it’s open.”
“You have my word that I will not take your life.”
“Somehow I don’t trust you.”
I squeezed the trigger. “The next one won’t miss. I know how much you like that sad excuse for a prick.”
Lodging itself in the mattress between Marcus’ legs, the bullet came closer than anticipated. His bravado soon left as he gave up the combination. About to leave with what I came for, Marcus made a big mistake. Pulling a gun from under the pillow, he took his shot at me. Clipping the doorframe, his aim as useless as the limp dick lying between his legs. One would have been suffice but Marcus deserved the four bullets I put in his overweight body.
“I never said how long I’d let you live.”
The first bullet opened a hole in the stomach the size of a fist, the second struck him between the eyes. The last two in the chest for my own pleasure. I made my exit with the money from the safe piled into a holdall I found under the bed. I thought about taking it all but pride won over greed. I didn’t need it all. The USB device I really came for now in my possession. Enough money left to give me probable cause for breaching the property. Sweeping the house, I assessed the destructive scene. Twenty minutes and I called the incident in to dispatch.
“This is Jack Starke of the nineteenth precinct. I have six dead bodies at three-two-six Libertine Gardens. I need ambulance, police and CSU on scene ASAP.”