One Night (11 page)

At first Joel wasn’t sure who had fired the gun and who had been shot but then Reynolds staggered backwards and he saw the smoking pistol in the hand of the guard. Joel replayed the last thirty seconds in his head, realising the guard must have snatched up the gun from where Danny had dropped it. Reynolds had been so busy going in for the knockout blow he hadn’t even considered the fact that his first punch had put the guard right next to the gun on the floor.

Jesus, what a fuck up. That was one of the reasons Joel had always avoided firearms, they were too easily used against you. For all of Fuller’s detailed planning it was starting to feel like the job was doomed to failure by stupid mistakes. First Reynolds’s pointless run from the security guard at the pick up point, now this. Joel was starting to think that maybe he and Paterson would have had a better chance without the other two. Danny was out of control. Joel had never known him carry a gun before and its presence worried him.

He focussed on the room again and saw Reynolds sit down heavily on his arse, clutching his chest. The guard looked as shocked as he did; he stared at the gun in his hand like he wasn’t sure what it was. Joel had never shot a man himself; he wondered what it felt like but not enough to want to do it.

Paterson sprang into action, that military training of his kicking in. He ran at the guard and swung one booted foot at his head, kicking him hard in the temple. It was a sharp efficient punt that sent the prone man sliding across the wooden floor. The gun flew out of his hand and skittered away from him.

Danny was still nursing his wrist, around the edges of his mask Joel could see that his face was pale and covered with a sheen of sweat despite the chill coming in through the open door. That didn’t stop him running for the pistol as soon as he saw it though. He let go of his wrist and hurried across the room to where it had come to rest, stooping to pick it up with his left hand. He turned and pointed it at the guard who was struggling to his feet unsteadily, his eyes glazed. Joel didn’t like the way the gun was shaking in Danny’s hand. It looked like if he pulled the trigger he’d be just as likely to hit Joel, Paterson or Reynolds as the guard.  

“Shoot him.” said Reynolds. “Shoot the fucker.”

Joel looked at Danny again. His jaw was clenched from the pain, his right arm hanging limply at his side. It was the gun that drew Joel’s eyes though. Big and black and making him nervous.

“Don’t do it, mate,” he said, wondering again if those years of friendship really counted for anything or if it had all be an elaborate con. A long game that Danny was playing with him.

“I fucking should,” Danny said. “Jesus this hurts.” He walked towards the guard, the
gun wobbling nastily in his hand. Joel believed him about the pain, both because he could see the pallor of Danny’s skin and because the man’s hand now attached to his arm at a queasily unnatural angle.

Joel figured he was in about as much danger doing nothing as he was doing something so he stepped in front of Danny, blocking his shot, and strode across the floor to the guard. The man was still groggy from Paterson’s kick. His nose was twisted to one side and blood poured from it down over his mouth to his chin from where it dripped onto his shirt. He looked at Joel with a look that said he knew what was coming next and was at least partially thankful for it.

“Sorry,” Joel said quietly and then punched him in the face as hard as he could. The man collapsed in a heap, the motion looking to Joel a little bit like relief.

Joel turned back to Danny pulling a plastic wrist restraint from his jacket. “Sorted,” he said as he looped it around the guard’s wrists and cinched it tight. “Now let’s stop fucking about and get on with what we’re here for.”

Danny didn’t say anything, just slipped the gun back into his pocket and went back to clutching his right arm.

Joel though
t back to Fuller’s briefing. Step one had been taking out the guard. That was done now, albeit not flawlessly. Step two was dealing with the security systems.

He
ran to the guard’s desk and unlocked the PC there using the admin password Fuller had supplied. Once in, he accessed the core security programme and overrode the settings with the engineer code. If the guard had already triggered the alarm it was too late to make any difference but there was no point in leaving it undone.

While he worked Paterson grabbed the first aid kit that was hanging on the wall and knelt in front of Reynolds, examining his wound. “Help me get his coat off,” he said to Joel after a moment’s tentative prodding.

“Careful. It fucking hurts,” Reynolds said as Joel unzipped the jacket. He pulled it off the boxer’s broad frame sharply and Reynolds sucked in a breath. “I said careful!”

“We haven’t got time for careful,” Joel said. “If he tripped the alarm we had twenty minutes from the moment we drove through the gate.” He looked at his watch,
when had that been? Three minutes ago? Four? He knew that time perception went to pieces when stress was introduced to the mix. Why hadn’t he started the countdown on his watch when they’d arrived? He looked at it now. 20:04. Had they got there dead on eight? He thought so. He quickly set the timer to sixteen minutes and started it.

Paterson heard the beep and looked up. “How long?” he said.

Joel told him.

“Not long enough,” said the Scot. “We’ve wasted too much frigging time thanks to Butch and Sundance.” He lifted Reynolds’s t-shirt. “Jesus ya fucking baby, it’s just a scratch. I’ve done worse shaving.”

“One of my ribs has gone,” said the boxer. “I’m sure of it.”

Paterson shook his head. “Doubt it,
not with all the padding you’ve got. It’s just a flesh wound, pal.” He dabbed at the wound with a sterile wipe.

“That’s easy for you to say,” said Reynolds, “it’s not your fucking flesh.”

Paterson tore open a dressing and slapped it on the wound, using surgical tape to hold it in place. “They’ll have heard the gunshot,” he said to no-one in particular. 

Joel realised he was right. He hadn’t paid much attention to them before but now he looked at the bank of video monitors over the desk, searching for any camera feeds that would show what was happening in the house. They cycled through various views of the grounds and exterior of the house with only occasional interior shots and then of public areas only. He guessed the owners liked to balance their security with their privacy.

He was about to give up when motion on one of the monitors caught his eye. He looked at it quickly enough to catch sight of a man running along a long hallway. He was carrying something, a large sports bag Joel thought. The man opened a door and quickly ran into the room behind it. The door closed just as the screen flicked over to another feed. Joel watched until it cycled around again. The door was still shut. He looked at his watch. 14:29.

“We need to get to the house,” he said.

The car completely blocked their way. For a second Joel thought about jumping across the bonnet like some actor on a TV show but then he imagined what would happen to his body if the driver accelerated when he was up there. They couldn't run back, the three jokers in the alley might be waking up and for all he knew the van was blocking the other end anyway.

He looked at the two men in the car. The thin man was on his side, his larger friend on the other. Neither of them looked like they were in a hurry to get out which made Joel think that all they were trying to do was delay him and Eve until someone else arrived. Probably a lot of someones. He needed to get the car out of the way, he knew, and quickly. He looked at it again, could see that the doors were locked. Bending down next to it he put his face up against the window and peered in, smiling at the driver. The man’s face was hidden by the balaclava he wore but Joel could see the bemused expression in his eyes. Joel had found what he was looking for inside the car and straightened.

"Stand back," he said to Eve, then hoisted the bag off his shoulder and swung it at the window. It shook but didn't break under the impact, Joel saw the man inside flinch back. He swung the bag again and this time the safety glass shattered, instantly transforming into a milky web. He heard the
driver shout as he swung the bag a third time. The shattered glass bowed inwards and a large hole appeared as the fragments he had hit with the bag fell into the lap of the man sitting behind it.

“Move the car," Joel said to him.

The man looked at Joel through the hole in the glass and shook his head.

Joel punched him, a swift, sharp blow to the face which snapped his head back. Joel saw the balaclava darken as the man's nose started to bleed. He leaned into the car, his hand reaching under the dashboard and pulling the lever to release the petrol cap.

He stood. "Move the car," he said again.

"Fuck off," the thin man said.

Joel walked to the back of the car and pulled open the door that hid the fuel cap. He unscrewed it and dropped it to the pavement. In the car he could see the driver adjusting his rear view mirror so he could watch him.

Joel unzipped his coat, he took hold of his
T-shirt with both hands and ripped a long strip of material off the bottom of it. He held the fabric up so that the driver could see it, then poked one end of it into the open petrol tank and pulled his lighter out of his pocket.

“What the fuck is he doing?” said the fat man, craning around in his seat so he could see. The frame of the car blocked his few of Joel’s hands; the thin man could see though.

“Oh bollocks,” he said, and put the car into gear just as Joel flicked the wheel on his lighter.

Joel grabbed the bag as the car pulled away, the strip of his
T-shirt falling out of the petrol tank and floating for a moment in the breeze.

“Come on,” he said to Eve who was staring at him with her mouth open. “We need to get out of sight.”

Then they were running again, down the street towards the esplanade. The car had driven in the opposite direction and then stopped, the driver and passenger both jumping out to check the fuel tank.

They stared at the couple running away from them.

“Well that went well,” said the fat man. “Harry’s going to be over the fucking moon.”

The thin man looked at the bag on Joel’s back and brushed the crystals of broken glass off his jacket. “That thing’s going to be the bloody death of me,” he said.

“Where are we going?” said Eve. Their feet were stepping in harmony as they sprinted down the road.

Joel realised he didn’t know, right now he felt like he was running away from something rather than towards it. “You tell me,” he said. “You’re the local.”

“I don’t live far away...” she said, letting it hang. Her heart raced as she waited for him to say something.

“No.”

She was quiet and he knew it was because he’d said the wrong thing, or at least said the thing she didn’t want to hear.

“It’s not safe,” he said. “I’m not safe. Not for you and not for anyone close to you. You need to keep me as far away from your life as you can. It’s bad enough I’ve dragged you into it without bringing this trouble to your mum or anyone else.”

She turned her head away so she didn’t see her face. She knew it shouldn’t but it hurt.

“There isn’t anyone else,” she said at last.

Joel was silent and Eve decided to leave it, she didn’t know what to make of this man who had appeared out of nowhere. More importantly she didn’t really know what he made of her.

“Where can we go, Eve?” he said after the pause.

She thought for a moment. They needed somewhere private, where they wouldn’t be found. Where strangers wouldn’t chance upon them and the people searching for Joel wouldn’t think to look.

“I know,” she said. “I know where we can go.”

When her dad died Eve found herself drawn to the place she’d been happiest with him, Adventure Island, the theme park by Southend Pier. This was in the first few days and weeks when it all still felt like a dream. Her gravitation to it started with her walking along the beach to get away from all the people telling her how sorry they were and ended with her walking through the weirdly quiet winter wasteland of the closed park.

Whenever she walked there the memories of him would come flooding back with such force she could almost sense him beside her. Mum worked on a Saturday, a few hours in the florists near their house.
It was Eve’s special time with dad and, during the summer at least, that meant they went to the amusement park. It was free to get in and dad knew some of the blokes who ran the rides which meant Eve always got a few free goes on things. The Pirate Galleon was fun, especially as you could see the faces of the tourists who didn’t know what to expect and ended up nauseated by the to and fro of the giant swinging ship. Dad said it was boring. The Wild West show was his favourite but Eve got tired of it the second or third time. Just men pretending to fight. Shooting each other with fake guns and holding phony brawls that looked about as real as something from Batman on the telly. All that was missing was the ‘Biffs’ and ‘Kapows’. The ride they agreed on, the one they both queued up for with big grins on their faces, was the Space Chaser; the long, fast, figure of eight rollercoaster. They’d sit in the carriage there waiting for it to start, impatient for the other riders to get seated. When the bars came down it felt like a hug. Like she was in the arms of something that loved her. She’d look at dad as the crackly voice came over the Tannoy and started the countdown. “Ten, nine, eight...”

Nothing made her happier
. Nothing beat those days with dad. Best of all was the illicit thrill of knowing that mum wouldn’t have approved. That she would have said that Eve wasn’t big enough or that she’d get scared or sick. Dad knew her. Really knew her.

During the winter months it was closed but on the day after he died she found herself there and found a way in. The steel frame of the rollercoasters and the
Ferris wheel loomed over her as she walked around them. It was silent but she could hear dad. Hear his laugh, hear him shouting encouragement at the sheriff and booing at the cattle rustlers, hear him counting down on the Space Chaser. Dad.

After his death it was the one place she felt safe. That was where she’d take Joel. They’d be safe there together.