Bridge of Doom (9 page)

All things considered, Fazzo reckoned it was probably better to face the music and get the inevitable pummelling from his father over and done with as quickly as possible. The condemned man made his way home to find Tommy Duff standing waiting for him at the front door, with a worryingly calm look on his face. He walked his son into the front lounge then pushed him up against a wall, as a prelude to the full on hair drier treatment. 

Nose to nose, Tommy bawled at his son, 'what the fuck happened? You were supposed to phone me and tell me how you were getting on with the drone.' 

'Sorry, da. I was …' 

'Never mind fuckin' sorry, you little twat. Where's my drone?'
 

'I don't know, da.' 

'Why don't you know?' 

'Because … because I don't have it.' 

'And why don't you have it?' 

'Because there was this woman in the park, who picked it up and ran away with it.' 

'A
woman?
' squawked a disbelieving Tommy. 'So did my brave wee gangster son just stand there with his thumb up his arse, watching a big tough
woman
steal my fucking drone?' 

'No, it wisnae like that, da. I did chase after her, but she was too fast for me.' 

A large red vein started to throb ominously on the side of Tommy's forehead as he said, 'I'm almost scared to ask, but what happened to the drone controller and the iPhone?'

'See what happened was, there was this young guy in the park who was helping me, and
he
took it while I was away trying to catch the woman,' said Fazzo, as his voice faded away to a whisper.  

'I don't fuckin' believe it. I send you over to the park, with a simple job to do, and you somehow manage to make a complete and total arse of it. Don't you get it, Danny? The young guy who was helping you and the woman are a team … and they've done a right number on you. And by the way, what was Tyson doing while you were being robbed?'
 

'He bit me … again, as soon as I started runnin' after the woman,' said Fazzo clutching the blood stained leg of his trackie bottoms, as he tried once again to elicit the sympathy vote. 

'It's not all fuckin' bad then,' said Tommy dismissively.
 

Alarmed by the angry shouts and a series of dull thuds coming from the front lounge, Doreen Duff burst into the room to find her husband, Tommy, shaking his son around like a rag doll, before back handing him across the face, sending him flying across the room. 

'Are you mad?' screamed Doreen at her husband. 'If you get any blood on my new cream carpet, I'll swing for you Tommy Duff. You should know the house rules by now. If you need to discipline the boy, take him out onto the deck in the back garden and I'll hose it down later, when you’re finished.' 

'Sorry love,' said Tommy, as he lifted the hapless Fazzo by the scruff of the neck and started to drag him from the room. 

Fazzo was rescued by the insistent ringing of his phone, which was still on charge in his bedroom. Reluctant to miss a possible hash order, his father put him down so he could take the call. The screen indicated that the caller's number was withheld. Tommy said, 'put it on speakerphone, I've got a feeling it might be
them
.'

'Is that Fazzo?' enquired Annie, affecting a broad Glasgow accent. 

'Yeah, who’s this?' 

'You don't need to know that, fuckwit. All you need to do right now is shut your hole. This is not a conversation or a negotiation. I speak and you listen. Understood?'  

'Aye, okay.'
 

'I've got something here that belongs to you. So if you want your wee drone back, be in the park tomorrow morning at eleven o'clock. And come alone, because we'll be watching.' 

'But …' 

'Shut it, okay? Bring five hundred pounds in a sealed C4 envelope and stand near the yellow litter bin, outside the Gents toilet block in the centre of the park. Do exactly as you're told and you will get the drone back. But if you try any stupid tricks, guess what? You'll never see it again.'
 

As the line went dead, Fazzo turned to his father and pleaded, 'let me pay the money, da. I've been saving up to go on Benny’s stag do to Magaluf.' Lying through his teeth, Fazzo continued, 'but that disnae matter, because getting your drone back is much more important to me than havin' a mega bevvy away in the sun wae all ma pals.'
 

Unlike his son, Tommy Duff was no fool and he did not take kindly to anyone trying to take the piss. In his world receiving unconditional respect and fear in equal measure from the local community was essential to the smooth running of his business. So, if word was somehow to get round that he'd been done over by a pair of cheeky little toe-rags, his street credibility would suffer. As a consequence, Tommy badly wanted to shut this mess down as quickly as possible and then inflict the maximum pain possible, on whoever was behind the theft of his drone. The more he thought about it, the angrier he got. It was bad enough to have the drone stolen on its very first outing. But now, to put the tin lid on it, the cheeky bastard of a thief wanted to sell it back to him. Not fuckin' funny, Tommy. At all. Doing nothing was not an option and there will be serious consequences down the line for those responsible, promised Tommy to himself. But the first priority was to get the drone back and then punish whoever was behind the scam.
 

'Okay, here's the plan, Danny. You go to the park tomorrow at eleven o'clock tomorrow morning with the five hundred in a big envelope. Then do
exactly
what you're told, so I can get my drone back in one piece. But the second you have your hands on the drone, you phone me right away, understand? After that all bets are off and it’ll be me who’s calling the shots. There are only two ways in and out of that park and I'll have some of our best boys covering both of them. I swear to God that, when I get my hands on whoever's behind this, they’ll be sorry they were ever born.'

At ten-thirty the next morning Annie and Jamie were already in position, parked behind a row of lock-up garages, which they'd found the previous evening during a thorough recce of the area. The garages adjoined the park's boundary fence and were completely screened from passing traffic, making the location a perfect base for what Annie had in mind. She was talking through the details of her plan for the exchange with Fazzo, which was scheduled to take place at eleven o'clock. But it soon became obvious to her that Jamie was getting cold feet.
 

'Look, maybe we should just call it off, Annie, and quit while we're ahead. I mean this isn't a game, is it? These people are real gangsters, and they're going to be totally pissed off at having to hand over five hundred pounds just to get their own property back.'
 

'I know, it's great isn't it?' said Annie, smiling broadly. 'Trust me, Jamie, this isn't about the money. This is payback for what we've both suffered at the hands of that horrible little thug. So just relax and enjoy it.' 

'Yeah, but seriously, Annie. If your plan goes wrong, we could both end up in adjacent beds back at the Infirmary.'
 

'Don't worry, nothing bad is going to happen, I promise. Thugs and bullies shouldn't get to win all the time and sometimes they need to be reminded of that. What they hate most in the world is being laughed at. They like to think that they're somehow totally cool and respected. So if we can pull this off, the thought that everyone in the area is laughing fit to burst at his expense will really hurt Fazzo.’
 

'Okay then, walk me through it one more time. Convince me,' said Jamie. 

'Look I'm not stupid enough to think that they'll just hand over the money, without trying something. So we’ll be one step ahead of them all the way. This is just like one of our college assignments, remember, where we have to assess all of the known risks and then work out a plan to manage them. So that's what I've done.'
 

'Yes but this isn't a class assignment, is it? This is real life, Annie, and if we mess up here, the downside isn't just a low grade, it's a whole world of pain and blood.
Our
blood. That's the big difference, right there.'
 

'Yes, you're right, they are dangerous people. I'm not forgetting that, but remember they'll be expecting one of us to physically meet up with Fazzo at the Gents toilet to do the exchange. I had a close look at the park earlier, on
Google Maps
, and then checked out
Street View
for the layout of the adjacent roads. I'm pretty sure there's no vehicle access into the park and pedestrians have to use one of two gates. So they'll be expecting us to leave the park with the money using one of these exits. But they'll be disappointed, because we'll be actually sitting here safe in the car, outside the park and out of sight, operating the drone and watching the action on my laptop. So, no worries.' 

'Well, if you say so.' 

'Look it's nearly five to eleven already,' said Annie. 'We can do this. Let's get the drone flying and then we can check out what's happening in the park.'
 

Jamie got out of the car and, after taking a sealant gun from the boot, applied a thick blob of strong impact adhesive to each of the drone's four feet. Then he announced, 'we're in completely uncharted territory here, Annie. The product information sheet says this stuff is good for fifteen minutes and sets immediately on contact, so in theory it
should
do the job. But I'm definitely not giving any guarantees on this one. Anyway, here goes.'

Jamie launched the drone from his hand and piloted it skywards over the boundary fence to execute a high-level circuit above the park. Then he re-joined Annie in the car and watched as crystal-clear pictures were beamed directly from the drone camera to her MacBook. They could see that the park appeared to be almost deserted, apart from two female dog walkers, a woman with a pram and the forlorn figure of Fazzo, who had just entered at the east gate carrying a large buff envelope. He looked around warily, before making his way directly towards the Gents toilet, where he stood waiting, fidgeting and clearly apprehensive. They also noted the sinister presence of two black four by four vehicles, parked adjacent to the park entrance gates. 

'That'll be Tommy Duff with some of his heavies,' said Annie. 'Okay, Jamie, it's nearly show time.'
 

At two minutes past eleven, Annie took out her phone and dialled Fazzo's number. They could clearly see on the laptop screen that he seemed startled by the noise of his phone ringing and had to fumble in the back pocket of his jeans before answering the call. 

'Hello?' 

'Have you got the money with you?' said Annie briskly.
 

'Yeah, it's all here. In a big envelope, just like you said.' 

'Right, put the envelope down on the ground, just in front of where you're standing. Very good … now walk towards the litter bin behind you, just at the entrance to the Gents toilet.' 

‘Okay, now I want you sing
"Want to Want Me"
. You know, the Jason Derulo tune.'
 

‘What?
No fuckin’ way,’ spluttered Fazzo angrily. 'What the fuck’s that got to do with …'

'Excuse
me
, Mister potty mouth, mind your language. Do you want the drone back or not?'
 

'Yes, sorry, I do want it. Sorry.' 

'Okay, then sing the song for me. And it would be good if you do some of Jason's moves at the same time. Really put some enthusiasm into it, like you’re auditioning for
Britain's Got Talent
. Right, go boy.'
 

Helpless with laughter, Jamie nearly crashed the drone twice as he watched the bizarre sight of Fazzo, standing alone in the park bawling out a tuneless version of the hit song, complete with jerky, uncoordinated dance moves.
 

Annie suppressed a prolonged fit of the giggles, then breathed deeply before picking up her phone again. 'Okay, that wasn't
too
bad, Fazzo. But the jury think it's probably best if you don't give up your day job just yet.'
 

'Right, there's just one last thing and then we're done here. I want you to sing that last bit again, then turn around and drop your trousers and pants around your ankles. That’s it … now bend over and start shaking your butt, just like Jason does. Do it right
now
, Fazzo, if you want to get the drone back.'
 

With the end to his torment apparently in sight, and his father's diktat to do exactly as instructed fresh in the memory, Fazzo meekly unbuckled his belt and complied. His humiliation was now complete and total.
 

While Fazzo was otherwise engaged, setting a commendable butt-shaking rhythm under trying circumstances, Jamie carefully piloted the drone downwards. He cut the electric motor for the last few feet of the descent, so as to minimise downdraft from the rotor blades and, with the aid of the on-board camera, let it float down gently so that the four adhesive coated feet landed squarely on top of the C4 envelope.

'Okay, well done,' said Annie. 'Now we'll see if the rest of the plan works. Can you start the drone again and then bounce it up and down a couple of times? Just to make sure the envelope is stuck on properly.'
 

'Good, now take it a few feet up off the ground, tilt the camera down and do a three sixty pan so we can check if all of the feet are still attached to the envelope. That looks pretty good to me, captain. Bring the drone back to mission control.' 

'Okay, but I'm going to have to take it slow,' said Jamie. 'I'm scared this gusting cross wind, plus the extra drag force, could rip the envelope off the feet.' 

'Right, but remember not to fly it straight here, just in case they have somebody else hidden inside the park, who might see the direction the drone takes.'
 

Using the on-board camera, beaming live pictures to Annie's laptop, Jamie carefully piloted the drone up and away from the public toilet. He followed a low altitude, zig-zag course which carefully skirted round the pond, before rising up and banking over a stand of trees and the rusty spike-top fence, marking the eastern boundary of the park. Back at the landing zone behind the garages, Annie ripped the envelope from the feet of the drone and checked that it contained five hundred pounds, while Jamie quickly stowed the device in the boot of the car.
 

Five minutes later Fazzo's father discovered him still bending over, with trousers around his ankles, at the entrance to the Gents toilet. 

'What the fuck do you think you're doing, standing outside the bogs waggling your bare backside around like some fuckin' arse bandit?' roared Duff senior. 

'I don't know, da. The bossy woman told me I had to do it.'  

'What woman? There isn't any woman here, you idiot.'
 

'There was, I swear, da. My phone rang and I thought it was you, but when I answered it was her again shouting orders at me again. I wanted to tell her to fuck off, but you told me I had to do whatever she said, so we could get the drone back. So that's what I've been doing.' 

'Never mind that, where's my drone?'
 

'I don't know, da,' whimpered Fazzo, as he looked around frantically for possible escape routes. 

'And what about my money?' 

'I don't know about that either. I think the drone maybe came down and took the envelope away somewhere. But I'm not sure, because …'
 

'Don't talk shite. How could a drone possibly take the envelope away?' 

'But you heard her, da. The woman said it was to be a fair swap, didn’t she? The drone for the money.'

'Yeah, but she
lied
, didn't she? Thanks to you, Danny the idiot, we don't have the drone, the iPhone or the controller. And, to put the tin lid on it, we've now been shafted out of five hundred quid. I make that a total loss of two grand, more or less. I don't fucking believe it.'  

At that point Fazzo's phone chirped, announcing a new text message.
 

'You better check it,' said his father sarcastically. 'You've maybe got a hot date lined up in cubicle three of the shit house.'

Fazzo fumbled to find his phone and then stared at the screen in horror.
 

The text message read, 'It's been a pleasure doing business with you, Fazzo. Thanks a bunch for the five hundred and, by the way, you might want to check out the link below for a video I've just posted on YouTube. It's in full HD, thanks to the camera on your fabby wee drone. I've shared it with the local police and some of your pals in the hood, just to save you the trouble. Catch you later.' 

Sensing yet more trouble, Tommy Duff growled, 'is that from the bastards who stole my drone?' 

Apparently incapable of speech, Fazzo simply stared at his phone and nodded dumbly. 

'So what does it fucking say?'
 

In the absence of a coherent reply, Tommy Duff snatched the phone from his son and read the text message for himself, with a familiar murderous expression spreading across his face. Then he clicked on the attached
YouTube
link and watched as a message, written in block capitals with a felt tip pen on a white cardboard background, appeared on the screen. With an icy calm, Tommy read aloud to his son,
'Because he's bone lazy and thick as two short planks, business has been slow lately for Danny Duff, aka Fazzo, the baby thug from Gargummock, who deals drugs and steals mobile phones for a living. Watch him bravely offer to take one for the team, behind the Gents toilet in his local park, to earn some money for his vicious gangster father, Tommy.'
 

The video then cut to a spectacular aerial shot of Bogside Park, before the camera slowly zoomed in on Fazzo, performing a strangulated version of the hit song
"Want to Want Me,"
complete with dance moves. However, the full meaning of the written message which began the video then became clear as he is seen to slowly turn away from the camera, before dropping his trousers and white Calvins around his ankles. Then, bending over to reveal his pasty, pimple covered backside in all its glory, he performs a lewd wiggle for the benefit of the camera, still wailing
"Want to Want Me."
 

Immediately aware of the damage the video could do to the fearsome reputation of his family, Tommy Duff advanced purposefully towards his son. The angry red throbbing vein on the side of his forehead was back, big time. 'I've always had my suspicions about you, Danny. I think your mother was right. She's always maintained we were given the wrong baby at the hospital, back when you were born. And I don't know, yet, who these thievin' bastards are who stole my drone, but they did get two things right about the Duff family.'
 

'What's that, da?' whined Fazzo.
 

'You're definitely bone lazy and thick. And I'm definitely
vicious
.'
 

Police later conducted a search of Bogside park, in response to a number of phone calls from concerned local residents who, on hearing prolonged blood curdling screams and shouts coming from the park over the period of half an hour, were certain that at least one murder must have been committed.