Read The Survival Game Online

Authors: Stavro Yianni

Tags: #Crime, North London, Thriller, Drugs, Ethnic, Greek Cypriot, Guns, Drama, Yardies, Gangs

The Survival Game (4 page)

BOOK: The Survival Game
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‘John?’ she asked, puzzled, a look of concern on her face. ‘Why are you looking at me like that?’

John stared at her with bewilderment, open-mouthed. The halo on her head made her look beautiful. Like an angel sent straight from Heaven.

He shook his head in response. ‘N-nothing,’ he stammered and shrugged, unable to tear his eyes from her halo as if it held him in a captivated trance.

‘You’re freaking me out, John,’ she told him.

John smiled in return. ‘I’m sorry, babe. I’m just…’ He closed his eyes and rubbed his forehead, not wanting to look at that thing on her head. ‘
Still messed up
…’

‘Yeah? Well, just try and rest.’

‘Yeah, I will.’ But, unfortunately, there was no time to rest. Thankfully,
she
seemed to be all out of questions, and her earlier volcano eruption had subsided. On that score, it was all good. But the other two still needed sorting out. Aziz was gonna be pissed about his missing delivery, and John had to blag him. And blag him good.


Alisha
…’ John said from behind his closed eyes.


Hmm?

‘Do you think you could just give us a minute alone?’ asked John. ‘We’ve got a few things to discuss about what happened to me.’

Alisha’s facial expression switched from calm to suspicious. ‘Like what?’ she asked. ‘These guys are the ones who got you into this, John. If it wasn’t for them, you wouldn’t be here.’

‘If it wasn’t for them, we’d have no money,’ John countered.

Alisha looked away in a sulk, and for a second, that halo on her head dimmed.

‘Just for a minute, babe,’ John told her, rubbing her hand again.

After a second or two, Alisha huffed. ‘Do what you like,’ she said, grumpy. ‘But don’t say I didn’t warn you.’ She then got to her feet, her back arching heavily. Her face pinched as she turned around and faced those two at the back of the room. She gave them a final dirty look before heading for the door.

Aziz went and opened it for her. She pushed on through and out of the room, taking a final look back at John. He stared at the golden halo on her head in awe.
What the hell is it?
he kept asking himself, but didn’t have a clue.
A dream? A hallucination?

She then left, taking it with her. Aziz let the door click shut, and he stood upright, facing John once more.

An uncomfortable silence took over.

John’s eyeballs darted from side-to-side for the following few seconds, working things out in his mind. He was about ninety-five percent sure they hadn’t come to kill him, ’cos that would be way too blatant, public place and all that. He didn’t think Aziz would do that to him, anyway. They most probably wanted to know exactly what happened and work out
how
they were going to get the delivery back.

He made sure not to lock eyes with Aziz ’cos he didn’t want to look at those horns on his head again; they were freaking him out. But curiosity got the better of him and he glanced up. There they were in all their glory, a pair of black horns sprouting from the top of his head.
What were they?
It was like God had turned the world into a giant film cell and superimposed them on his head. But as weird as that stuff was, it wasn’t his main worry right then. He needed to spend the next few minutes waffling, and to waffle well.

‘Are you okay, Johnny?’ asked Aziz in a neutral tone, breaking that silence.

John responded with a positive nod of his head.

‘Good job on Alisha,’ Aziz said. ‘You can tell a lie, believe me.’

‘Yeah, well I’ve had a lot of practice,’ John replied, staring solemnly down at his bedclothes.

He looked up to meet Aziz’s eyes. They were still blood-red and his jaw was still jutting out, and John suddenly realised what he was staring at. Aziz was a bloodhound. When it came to business and money this man was ruthless; a killer, a thirsty leech. And right then, he smelt blood. And he was very, very hungry. Starving.

‘Where’s my merchandise, John?’ Aziz asked coldly like he was nothing but a cyborg.

John gave him a blank stare. Fear was crawling around his stomach like spiders in a dank basement.

He took in a deep breath, quickly deciding it was probably best to just come out with what happened early doors. ‘They mugged me, Aziz,’ he replied straight up, looking down at his bed at the same time.

Aziz crossed his arms over his chest and stood upright as if he were a Drill Sergeant. ‘
They
mugged you?’ he echoed. ‘Who mugged you?’

John sighed. ‘The bastards who did
this
to me.’ He rubbed his eyes. Behind them, he could see masks—gimp, Scream, and Prince Charles. He groaned. ‘I don’t know who they were. They were waiting for me. They kept saying—
give me the bag, give me the bag.

‘And you did?’ asked Aziz, his voice loaded with incredulity.

John tutted. ‘Course I didn’t! They had to smash me around with a fucking cricket bat and shoot me with tranquilliser darts to get it off me!’

Aziz scratched his forehead in an agitated manner. He huffed. ‘I need that merchandise, John,’ he told him through clenched teeth. ‘Some very important people are waiting for that delivery. And believe me, they’re not the kind of people you let down.’

‘Look, I know—’

‘You don’t know shit!’ Aziz snapped, and now his eyes were as red as rubies, the horns on his head as black as soot. ‘I pay you good money to bring the delivery to me safely! Of course thieves and other scumbags want what you’re delivering;
you know how much it’s all worth?
Everyone wants their hands on Omar’s merchandise. He’s the best. But,
I
bid highest. And I pay
you
with the understanding that if someone tries to mug you, you fucking do what it takes to stop them. And if that means you kill them, then you fucking kill them!’

Aziz stopped for a breath and everything went horribly silent. He pulled out a tub of Tic Tacs—the green and orange ones—from his jacket pocket, poured some into his hand, and gobbled ’em up.

John stared down at his bedclothes.
Just don’t look at him,
re
. Don’t look… Don’t—

‘You’ve got till Friday.’

When he heard that, though, John looked up immediately. Aziz was now standing at the foot of his bed, his hands in his jacket pockets, chewing steadily on Tic Tacs. Those horns sat neatly on his head and even though his bloodshot eyes had calmed down, his jutting jaw remained set firmly in place.

‘It’s Monday, so you have four days—including today—to get my merchandise back.’

John groaned and rubbed his head ’cos that pain was suddenly returning. ‘Friday? Aziz, I have no idea who they were…’

‘You can find them. Slugs, worms, leeches all leave a trail, John. You find them quick and you get my delivery back because someone representing my clients is coming to collect them on Friday afternoon to ship it all out the same day.’ Aziz spoke with a face like stone.

John closed his eyes and rubbed his head some more. This was bad, very bad. ‘
Aziz, man…

‘Don’t give me ‘Aziz man’ shit!
You
fucked up,
you
fix it. You’re lucky I’m giving you another chance; anyone else and they’d be in here permanently.’ He straightened his jacket. ‘But, I like you, you have a pregnant wife, and you’re obviously in hard times right now, which is why I gave you this job in the first place… So I’m giving you another chance.’

John sighed and looked away. ‘I appreciate that, Aziz. But where exactly am I supposed to start looking for ’em? I ain’t got a clue who they were. And they had guns. Guns, Aziz.’

Aziz shrugged. ‘So what?’


So…
I ain’t into carrying tools like that around, Aziz. It ain’t my thing.’

Aziz laughed to himself. ‘But you were in the fucking army. You’re a trained killer.’

John lowered his head. ‘That was a long time ago, Aziz.’

‘Doesn’t matter. They
trained
you to take care of situations like this. What would you do if you were sent to another country to fight and you got surrounded by enemy troops?
Huh?
You’re expected to shoot your way out.’

John chuckled to himself. ‘Well, that would never have happened, ’cos I didn’t finish my training, did I? I left early.’

Aziz began nodding his head vehemently. ‘And that’s probably why these sons of bitches got away with my delivery. If you walked out on your own army, then it would be no problem for you to betray
me
.’

John’s head snapped up and he gave him a dark, angry glare. ‘Don’t question my loyalty, Aziz. Ever. All right? I didn’t
let
this shit happen. I did all I could to stop ’em.’

‘And a great job you did too!’ Aziz said, clapping his hands together in a mocking fashion. ‘Well done!’ When he was finished, he placed his hands back in his jacket pockets and stared at John, his bloodshot eyes burning. He cleared his throat. ‘We live in a very, very unpleasant world, you and me, John. You already know that. Now, I’m a businessman first and foremost. We do whatever it takes to survive and to come out on top. Whatever it takes. You learn that
now
. If you stayed in the army a bit longer, you would have learnt this. This is war. This is life.’

John looked away. The last thing he needed was the two-bit philosophy lecture. He fucked up, yes, but he never did it on purpose, and he definitely didn’t just let it happen. They had guns,
gamota
, bloody tranquilliser darts! He had his fists. That was all.

‘And I’m not paying you your money either,’ Aziz then said, making John’s face scrunch up in anger.

He stared hard at Aziz. ‘I
need
that money, Aziz…’ he said in a stern voice. ‘Like you said, I got a pregnant wife.’

‘Then it’s simple. You find the bastards who stole my merchandise and bring it back to me by Friday. Then you get your money. Okay?’

‘But—’

‘Don’t argue, John. If you know what’s best for you, don’t argue…’

John slapped his hands on his bed in frustration, making another horrible pain shoot through his head. ‘
Okay, Aziz,
’ he replied through gritted teeth. He crossed his arms over his chest. He was in a no-win situation and just had to accept it. After all, he
had
fucked up and in truth he did have to make up for it.

But inside, he was getting mad at his luck.
Why does God have to push me in a fucking corner every time?
his mind vented.
I’ve told him before, I don’t know how many times—I DON’T DO CORNERS!

He looked back at the old man and saw that those fucking horns were still sticking out of his head. They were starting to bug him, big time.

He let out an angry huff. ‘What
is
that on your head, Aziz?’ he asked uncompromisingly.

Aziz just stared at him for a second, bemused. He glanced at Ahmed, then back at John. ‘Are you fucking me around or what? What’s on my head? What are you talking about?’

John held up his palms to show he didn’t mean offence. ‘I don’t know what it is, but…’ he looked at Ahmed. ‘
Do you see it?

Ahmed gave John an incredulous stare before glancing at Aziz. ‘See what?’ he asked.

‘Just go like this, Aziz,’ John said, while patting the top of his own head.

Aziz stared hard at him for a few seconds. John agreed that it sounded like he was taking the piss, but he had to know what those damn things were. To John’s surprise, Aziz reached for the top of his head and lightly brushed his hair, his eyes rolled to the side. He looked at his fingers afterwards, rubbing them together. He then looked from them to Ahmed, who shrugged.

He touched them, he touched them
gamota
, and didn’t notice them. And they’re still there. He can’t feel them…

John suddenly regretted mentioning them; the old man might think he was winding him up. ‘It’s all right, Aziz,’ he said, attempting to defuse things. ‘I thought you had something in your hair, that’s all. I was wrong.’

Aziz’s back straightened and he pointed his finger at him. No doubt he was about to dish out a bollocking, when Alisha’s face popped up at the window embedded in the door of the room, saving John from another tongue-lashing. Her eyes were wide, taking in everything that was going on. When she saw Aziz still standing there, she frowned.

‘Looks like it’s time to leave,’ said Ahmed.

‘Looks like it, Ahmed,’ Aziz said, dusting his hands.

Aziz then put his hands in his pockets again. ‘Johnny, listen. Ahmed brought your car here for you. It’s in the car park.’

John watched Ahmed remove some car keys from his pocket, and place them on the table next to his bed. ‘Thanks, Ahmed,’ he said.

‘No worries, mate,’ Ahmed replied.

‘Remember, John. Friday,’ Aziz then said, pointing at him again. ‘I want them back by Friday.’ He then turned and opened the door.

Alisha came in, her face a little sweaty, her halo still shining brightly.

‘We’re going to leave now, my dear,’ Aziz informed her in one of his most friendliest of voices.

‘About time as well!’ Alisha swiftly replied as she bounced past him.

‘Indeed, my dear. The smell of chlorine and bleach makes my eyes water.’ Aziz put on a fake smile as he spoke. ‘See you, John,’ he said and waved at him.

John held up his palm in return.

‘See you at the hall, John,’ Ahmed said as he left.

Aziz turned to Alisha. ‘Bye, my dear.’

‘See ya,’ Alisha replied in a voice devoid of any friendliness. Aziz just smiled in return.

In the next instant, they were both gone, leaving husband and wife together.

‘What did they want?’ Alisha snapped as she went and sat down in the chair next to John’s bed.

‘Just sorting out a few things, that’s all,’ John told her.

‘I hope they don’t get you into any more shit, because I can’t take it, John. Nor can the baby.’

John didn’t need the aggro right then, so he put a pillow over his face. ‘They’re not,’ he replied from beneath it. ‘We’re gonna go into a new line of work, something less dangerous.’

‘Oh yeah, like what? Lion taming?’

John laughed when he heard that; it was actually quite funny for her. ‘No,’ he replied.

BOOK: The Survival Game
11.84Mb size Format: txt, pdf, ePub
ads

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