Authors: Summer Jordan
Serge glanced at Tanya. “What do you think?”
“I’m cool.”
Bruce held his hands up. “It’s only fair that take you for a wee look around before you give me an answer.” He chuckled. “The wife also wants to cook for you both
… she does a cracking roast. You and your friend can come for dinner and we can chat some more?”
“Right, it’s deal.”
“You take the wheel, I’ll direct you back to the farm.”
The cab rattled and vibrated, every gear change resulted in a metallic screech. Serge couldn’t be happier. He took a fleeting glance at Tanya, who avoided the smell from the cab by keeping her nose close to the open window.”
The sweat ran off Norman’s forehead and trickled down his nose. He dabbed his face with his towel as continued to run on the treadmill.
He felt his phone vibrate causing him to hit the stop button. He saw it was a call from Bentham. “Dave, what’s up?”
“Where are you?”
“In the gym.”
“All you need to do is give up smoking? Anyway, the CCTV from Serge’s place, it’s definitely Vladimir Petrovic.”
“Shit.”
“What?”
Norman took a mouthful of water from his bottle. “I … was enjoying my workout. But sounds like you need me there right away.”
“Of course I do. Get your sweaty arse to the station quick. At least if all else fails, we can get him on
breaking and entering.”
“Good.”
“Hurry up. The Chief is going to give us the go-ahead to raid Vladimir’s pad.”
“Fuck, Vlad’s place, you serious?”
“Yeah, what’s up with you? Sounds like you’re getting a little light-headed in that gym of yours. Hurry up, SFO are going to be involved.”
“Sounds like it’s going to be quite a show. I better get a move on.”
* * * *
The pistol shook in Bentham’s hand. Sweat seeped into his eyes as he glanced at his watch. He peered around the corner at Vladimir Petrovic’s door. He glanced over his shoulder at the commander of the SFO unit. “Right Bill, do what you do best.”
Bentham hated the sound of flash bangs and decided make his way to back of queue of armed police.
Norman waited at the back and nodded as Bentham approached. “Everything Ok?”
“They’re going in now.”
The crack of the door being smashed open was followed by a loud explosion. Shouting and screaming of the rampaging police echoed down the hallway.
The smoke still hung in the air as Bentham entered Vladimir’s apartment. He spotted the open safe and glanced at the Bill the SFO commander. “One of you lot open this?”
“No.”
Bentham stooped down and stuck his hand inside the safe. He tapped the rear wall of the safe. “Been cleared out. Vladimir is long gone.”
The Bill chewed on a chocolate bar he had helped himself to out of Vladimir’s fridge.
“Just a shame someone else will replace him.” As he chewed his chocolate bar, his eyes fixed on a hole in the white alcove. “No one fired a round, did they?”
Bentham shrugged, “Didn’t hear anything?”
Bill shouted, “Lads, none of you guys got a bit excited and fired a shot did you…?” He watched as they all shook their heads. “Didn’t think so. “ He pointed at the bullet hole. “Looks like Vlad left in a bit of temper.”
“Starting to look like a power struggle at the very top.”
Norman peered around the room. “Not seen any other signs though, no blood or d…” He heard the ringtone of his mobile phone. “Sorry.”
Bentham watched an agitated Norman staring at his ringing mobile “Who the fuck is calling you at a time like this?”
“Erm … The bird.”
“I thought you said you didn’t have one?”
“I have, just haven’t got one that I actually like… I’ve got a whole bunch of woman that I don’t.”
“Tell her you’re fucking busy, then.”
Norman turned his back to Bentham and paced towards the door with the phone at his ear. “Look, how did you get this number? You’re going to get us both locked up.”
“That’s not how you talk to someone who paid off your deposit, Fuck Face.”
“I’m sorry, but now is not the time.”
“We need to meet, things are getting a bit out of hand.”
“Tell me about it”
“Dockers Cafe. 1030. Don’t be late.”
“OK.”
Bentham could see the strain to Norman’s face. “Fuck, thought I had woman problems.”
“I’ve always had a habit of getting involved with the bad ones.”
“Tell me about it, starting to think there aren’t any good ones out there.” Bentham stared at the vulgar marble ornaments “Vladimir, you think he’s after Tanya? Has to be right?”
“Or he was escaping us. One of the two.”
Bill slung his sub
-machine gun over his shoulder, before opening a can of cola from the fridge. “The girl, always the girl.”
Bentham took a cola from the fridge. “If he’s like any of us, it must be woman problems. So gotta be Tanya.” He passed one to Norman.
“Any news on her whereabouts?
“Traffic
is still sifting through CCTV.”
“How long does it take to watch people getting on and off a train?”
Bentham glanced at his phone. “Speak of the Devil, it’s traffic.” He accepted the call. “You finally found out where they got off?”
“Saturday at Edinburgh Waverly at 0817.”
“Finally, you lot are so slow you work for British Rail, never mind police for them.”
“
Hey, fuck you. We’re really busy at the moment.”
“Busy? Try
Clubs and Vice.” Bentham put the phone back into his pocket. “Right, Edinburgh. Vlad’s probably halfway there as we speak.”
Bill belched and tossed the can
in the bin. “You guys may as well be on holiday, getting to go all around the country like that. Want to try doing a job like this?”
“What are you joking? I’d love to carry a weapon around
like that, must be a babe magnet.”
Norman nodded. “I agree.”
Bill laughed and tapped the telescopic sight. “Yeah, who am I kidding, It’s fucking awesome.”
“Any stories?”
“I was patrolling parliament a few months back. I got this American chick sniffing around. Taking pictures and everything.”
Norman butted in. “What was she like?”
“Buxom, but slim for an American. Anyway she’s like, ‘that’s a pretty big gun you’ve got there’.”
“Whatever.”
“Honestly, I looked her in the eyes and said, it might say nine millimetre along the barrel, but I’ve got nine inches written along something else.”
“Bill, you’re so full of shit, come on, we’re out of here.”
“True story, that.” Bill laughed aloud. “Here, I’ve got another story about an American when I was patrolling Big Ben.”
“Leave it for next time.”
* * * *
Bentham walked to his Jaguar and noticed Norman
trailing behind. “Leave that phone alone.”
“I’m coming, hold on.”
“It’s like working with a teenager sometimes.”
“What do you think they’re doing in Scotland?”
“Escaping Vladimir.”
“Why not go abroad though? Could be in the sun instead of the rain.”
Bentham opened the car door. “Maybe he likes eating fucking haggis or drinking scotch, I don’t know. I suppose we’ll just have to find out.”
“They might just be looking another way out of the country, one less obvious.”
”Maybe, that’s why we have to get up North as quick as possible.”
Vladimir sat in his car in the car park of a fast food outlet. He slid his hand into a brown paper bag. “Where the fuck is he?” He took a fist full of salty fries and greedily chewed as he spotted the man he was waiting for. A shadowy figure approached causing Vladimir to drop his window.
“I’m starting to think I might have wasted my time and money on you.”
“Calm down.”
“Prove me wrong then? Tanya, is she in a safe house or what?”
“Was.”
“So, where is she now?”
“Tanya was seen at Edinburgh Waverly Station.”
“When?”
The man glanced around, his face part hidden under a West Ham football scarf. “Saturday. They arrived on the 0817 from London Euston.”
“They?”
“She was with a man, believed to be Serge Guzun.”
Vladimir slammed his hands against the wheel. “Fucking Serge. I knew it.”
“You know him?”
“Of course I fucking know him. Look, is there anything else you found out?”
“No. But tell me what possessed you to break in Serge’s flat by yourself?”
“I was pissed off.”
“Acting like an amateur will get you banged up. Get one of your goons to bloody do it.”
“Don’t you talk to me like that, you little fuck stick.”
“But you’ve got Bentham sniffing around now. With this and the CD you’re in deep shit.”
“I know, I fucking know. The CD, I need it back. Can you get it me?”
“If I can.”
“If you can? If you bloody can? Am I wasting my fucking money?
“”I’ll do my best.”
“Of course you fucking will.”
Vladimir hung a cardboard burger box out of the window. “I’m sure you’ll find it a bit nicer than your usual cheese burger from this particular establishment.” He smiled. “Let me know everything you find out, if she farts, I want to know what it smells like. Got it?”
“Yeah.”
“Make sure Bentham doesn’t get too clever.” Vladimir started the car. “I don’t need that dismal pile of shit causing me anymore problems than he already has. ” He raced out of the car park, almost running over the
man’s feet.
* * * *
Vladimir parked outside the club. He gazed at the drunken girls in short skirts. Their long legs reminded him of Tanya. “Fuck, I miss them pins wrapped around me.” The car rocked as Igor sat in passenger seat of the Porsche.
“Where are we going then boss
?”
“Scotland.”
“Seriously?”
“Why would I be joking at a time like this?”
“Why are we going there?”
Vladimir sighed. “For the weather, Igor.”
“Really? I thought the weather is supposed to be awful.”
Vladimir clenched his fist and threw a punch at Igor, jabbing him in arm.
“Shut up Igor, just shut the fuck up.”
“Who put you in a bad mood
?”
”I find it fucking hard to believe we share the same genes. Fuck me, did I get all the brains
… and the looks?”
“Sorry.”
“Tanya and Serge were last seen in Edinburgh train station.”
“Great, I’ve always wanted to go there.”
“We’re not fucking sightseeing, Igor.”
“I know, I know.”
* * * *
Racing along the midnight motorway, the Porsche sped through the yellow pools of light. Vladimir tightened his grip of the wheel. “I bet he’s fucking her. My best friend and my girl, you can’t trust anyone.” Igor snored incessantly beside the angry Vladimir. “Wake up you fat bastard.”
Vladimir ground is teeth as the snores continued. “Igor, wake the fuck up.” Fed up, Vladimir leaned over and slapped him in the chubby face.
“Who, what, where?”
“Oh, you’re awake?”
“I felt like something hit me.”
“It sounded like you were having a pretty bad nightmare to me. Probably a good thing you’re awake, try a stay that way.”
The flat plains of the Southern English countryside slowly formed into the rolling hills of the North. Vladimir rubbed his watering eyes at the red-blooded sun broke to the East.
“So fucking tired, not even the Charlie is keeping me awake.”
“Just saw a sign for a service station, pull over there and I’ll take over.”
The sound of the motorway roared in the background as the morning commute was in full swing. The Porsche stood parked and Vladimir supped a strong coffee as his sat sideways on his car seat with his legs stretched out through the open door. He watched Igor approach with a large bucket of fried chicken. “There is no way you’re bringing that into my car.”
“Come on boss, I’m starving.”
“Eat it on the bench over there.”
Sitting on the bench
, Igor shouted as he pointed at Vladimir’s cup of coffee. “Shouldn’t be drinking that, all that caffeine is bad for your health.”
“That might be true, but I can see the grease from that chicken all over those ugly fat cheeks of yours.” Vladimir slurped another mouthful of coffee. “I’ll be attending your funeral, before being the centre of attention of my own.”
“Let’s hope we’re both be at Serge’s first though.”
“Hopefully.” Vladimir stood and walked to an overflowing bin. He placed the cup carefully on the top of the pile. “Just stretching my legs. I’ll be back in five.”
* * * *
The service station was quiet and only a few early morning
travellers occupied the food court. He walked past the small casino put resisted the urge for a quick flutter. Inside a tourist information centre he sifted through hundreds of pamphlets. “Now where would Serge go? What would that diehard Moldovan get up to?” His eyes fell upon a Royal Scottish Agriculture Show “I wonder?” Reading through the pages he smiled as his mind travelled up the gears. “He won’t be able to resist such a thing.”
Back at the car Vladimir spotted Igor wiping his face with a tissue. “What do you know about farming?”
“Nothing. Cows, sheep and tractors… Oh and they smell of shit.”
“For once we’re on the same playing field.”
“Huh.”
“We need to learn as much as possible.”
Igor shrugged. “Why”
“So we can set up a stall at a farming festival.”
“Seriously?”
“He might keep an eye on the crowd, but last thing he would expect is us in stall.”