Heavy Duty Trouble (The Brethren Trilogy) (18 page)

Then suddenly from inside the yard there came a familiar whirr and bark as a Harley burst into life.

I looked round to see
Bung
mounted on the machine. He
had
start
ed
Scroat’s
bike
.

Stomping it into first and dropping the clutch, the bike j
ump
ed
towards me
as I swung back the gate to give him enough room to get through, the rifle in my free hand waving unprofessionally about as I tried to cover the track outside.

‘
Get on
,’ he ordered
,
pausing beside me just long enough for me to swing my leg over the pillion pad
,
and
grab the shortie sissy bar with my free hand while keeping a death grip on the rifle
,
as Bung gunned the engine and launching the bike like a rocket, we blasted out
into the night.

*

We ran the lane without lights,
the bike lurching from bounce to bounce over the rough ground, just Bung’s savage acceleration keeping it upright until
,
with an
almighty
thump that felt like a kick in the small of the back and a shower of sparks from milling steel and the pipes against the kerb as we grounded the suspension,
we
leapt out
on to
the
road
at a terrifying speed without slowing for a moment to see if there was anything coming as we hit the tarmac. Fighting the brutal machine, Bung
heeled
it
over and
, with the back wheel squealing and
swinging wildly across the road, he laid rubber
with a neck snapping yank that pulled my body back so far
I thought I was going to come off, before I slammed forward again as he shifted upwards, the raw engine noise howling against the wind. Only then did he
flick the
headlight
on
.

It was the first moment I’d really had to think since this whole thing had started.

And as a wanted man already on the run for a suspected murder
last
year, I thought it didn’t look good.

We were running at speed.

With no lids.

On a stolen and obviously outlaw bike.

Carrying an assault rifle.

With my fingerprints all over it.

That probably linked all too well to
God knows how many
bodies behind us.

Escaping a gun battle and
house fire
that had to have any number of cops and Trumpton on its way
to it right now at top speed
.

This had better not be a long ride
I thought
,
closing my eyes and ducking down
.

*

It wasn’t. Bung obviously had some destination in mind and it was only a minute or so later that we slowed down and slipped quietly into a
lay-by
.
I guessed w
e were down some side road off the A33 or A30. Perhaps somewhere round Swallowfield or Hartley Wintney, or one of those other little villages that dotted the area
.
I have to confess I hadn’t been paying too much attention to the route, I’d been too busy keeping myself small and tucked in behind Bung while holding
on to
the rifle for dear life. Christ, the one thing worse than hanging
on to
it was the thought of letting it drop to be found by the plod. That would not be good
,
I thought.

Bung indicated with a nod of his head that I should get off and
I willed my shaking limbs to lift me up and swing me
away from
the bike, before he lowered it down
on to
its dragon claw
side stand
as the motor coughed and died.

‘
Not a bad
ride
,’
he said
grudgingly
,
as he swung himself off and reaching towards where I was standing fairly dumbstruck
with all that had happened in what, was it really only the last
fiv
e or
ten minutes or so,
lifted the rifle from my unresisting hands.

All I could think was
,
we were safe.
The
lay-by
was one of those old bends that had been cut off by some road straightening initiative, leaving a curving strip of crumbling tarmac, cut off from the modern route with its streetlights and kerbs by a shading line of trees and hedging that had once marked the road’s far boundary. So w
e were out of sight of
anybody driving up or down the carriageway,
and the only noises I could hear in the darkness w
ere
the distant hum of traffic from the middle distance and the quiet metallic pings of the engine cooling.

‘So what now?’ I asked
,
as he leant the rifle casually against the far side of the bike so it was
readily to hand but
out of sight of anyone who might pull in beside us, and perching himself on the seat, he pulled a packet of fags
out of the inside of his cut-
off and with a flick of his
Zippo
lit up
.

‘So now we wait,’ he said with a shrug
,
looking supremely relaxed about the whole thing
. ‘Shouldn’t be long.’

*

This wasn’t just a convenient place that we’d happened to stop at
,
I realised. This was a pre-arranged rendezvous point.

Sure enough, it was only a few
minutes later that a pair of anonymous white
T
ransits nosed quietly into the
lay-by
and drew up behind us. Lit up by the blinding headlights I felt acutely vulnerable, as though I was facing a firing squad, but then as the engines were cut the drivers doused the lights and other than the dancing magenta after
images on the back of my retinas we were in darkness again
while
I heard the clunk of the doors opening and the tread of men in heavy boots jumping out and advancing towards us.

‘Yo Bung!’ said a voice cheerfully
,
as the first of them approached.

‘Hey Gibbo,’ he replied reaching out to clasp the arrival in a heartfelt
bear hug
, ‘thought you weren’t coming for a moment the
n
.’

‘Nah, we were there
all right
mate
. Just needed to make sure all th
e fuckers were where we wanted ’
em.’

‘W
ell I was glad to see you turn up, thought I was toast there for a moment.’

It was an ambush
then
,
I thought
.
Bung and these guys had known Loki were coming
all along
?
But it didn’t seem he’d bothered to tell Scroat or Scampi about it from their reactions. Just what the hell was going on here
,
I wondered.

‘You OK Bung?’ said another biker
that I recognised as London Ted
,
appearing out of the darkness from beside the vans to greet him.

‘Yeah
,
I’m good
.
’

‘No problems?
’

‘Nah, nothing I couldn’t handle.’

‘Good.’

‘Did ya get em all?
’ Bung asked.

‘
Yep, no worries.
Had ’
em completely surrounded.
Made a c
lean sweep.
’

‘
Good job boys
!’
Bung sounded delighted.

Chillingly I realized what they were saying. This new crew lying in wait and heavily armed with automatic weapons had caught all the Loki club
in their killing zone and cold-
bloodedly massacred them to the last man.

‘The gear?’ asked Bung.

‘Relax, it’s all taken care of. A couple of strikers have it and they’re headed west. Probably halfway to Wiltshire by now.’

‘All the coverall
s and gloves are going in the front van
,’ said London Ted,
‘
so if we dump your rifle in it as well
,
Eyore’s striker can deal with that too.’

‘All our guy
s OK?’
continued
Bung, ‘Where’s Toad? I thought he’d be with you?’

‘
W
e were all out of there well before any plod showed. W
idget’s caught something
in the arm
but it doesn’t look to
o
serious.’

‘
And Toad?’ Bung asked again.

Gibbo just shook his head. From the expression on Bung’s face I could see this was unwelcome news.

As a man who’d cross the road for any chance of a good fight, I suppose I was surprised to hear that Toad wasn’t here for this type of action. He was the club’s go to guy for any kind of serious trouble, and if you got Toad involved,
you could rely on
any trouble bec
oming
serious
ly sorted,
so I’d have thought
the
y’d have had to have him tied down somewhere to make him miss a shoot up like this.

‘
What about the bike?’ asked London Ted.

‘Take it and break it,’ said Bung shortly, ‘Scroat’s got no use for it now.’

Gibbo turned and beckoned a striker over to take the keys from Bung.
‘
Still, never mind
Toad
for a minute
,
’ he said turning back to Bung,
‘
come
round the back of the van. W
e’ve got a bit of a surprise for you
.’

‘
Oh yea
h
, what’s that
then
?
’
asked Bung
,
sounding intrigued
as he lit himself another fag
.

‘
Just
come
and see mate
,’ said Gibbo smiling evilly and they turned to head off down to where the second van was parked
,
leaving London Ted to
organize
the loading of the fi
r
st
one
with ever
y
thing that needed to be disposed of safely, ‘
I think you’ll like it
.
’

No one seemed to be paying any attention to me whatsoever, so in a moment of madness I just tagged along behind them.

One of the rear doors of the second van was open
. R
eaching it, the two bikers
looked
in
and standing on tiptoe behind them I peered over their shoulders to see what was of such interest.

Inside the van I recognised the huge bullnecked bulk of
Lumpy, the South Coast P
.

Lumpy
was bending down and
manoeuvring
something on the floor of the van with the aid of
Fruitcake
, another full patch. At first I couldn’t make out what it was as it just looked like a roll of carpet. But then when I realized that the
rug
, or whatever it was, was not only not helping
,
but was actually bucking and jerking as they tried to manhandle it in the confined space, I realized it wasn’t something.
It was someone.

Someone trussed up in the
flooring ripped from the back of the van.

Christ
,
I thought, I’ve seen Reservoir Dogs. I know what’s coming next.

‘So who’s that then?’ asked Bung matter of factly
,
nodding to the writhing package on the floor.

Lumpy
looked up at him, a wide grin on his face, his thick gold chain hanging loose around his neck.

‘Just their fucking P mate.’

‘Oh that’s beautiful,’ sniggered Bung
.

‘Told you you’d like
it
,’ said Gibbo, slapping Bung on the back.