The Day of the Gecko (24 page)

‘Nice to see Eddie's done his bit for multi-culturalism,' remarked Norton.

‘Yeah. It's a pity he can't spell,' replied the major.

Three or four cars were sitting under the streetlights when they reached the end of Notts Avenue and the same lights cast a milky yellow pall over the slope leading down to the handball court. The major had an instinctive look around, then gave Les a nod and they started climbing down the sandy trail to the back way into the baths.

There was a slight swell bumping against the shoreline and, although that end of the beach was more sheltered against the southerly, a fine mist of salty spray hung in the warm night air as they carefully hopped from one rock to the next in the darkness. The pool where Eddie would bring the rubber ducky in was about half full and swirling around noticeably with the tide, but Les couldn't see him having any trouble getting it in; just as long as they could get it back out again with the extra passengers, alive
and
deceased. As they passed it, they both had another instinctive look around, then scampered quickly over the remaining rocks, past the pumphouse, then up the short set of steps and straight into the back of the handball court. It was just as dirty and still stank of their piss from last time they were in there. Only now it was a gloomy darkness, with barely enough light to cast a shadow.

‘Okay, Les,' said the major, keeping his voice down. ‘You don't have to do anything. Just keep an eye out, that's all.'

‘Righto.' Les looked around and began wishing he was somewhere else.

The Gecko placed the blue canvas bag under the shelter next to the two meter boxes and unzipped it, taking out a small torch which he placed in his vest pocket. The mine was wrapped in a small thermal blanket with its legs folded underneath; he placed that beside the bag. Next was the spool of cable and the trigger housing, which he placed on the ground near to the mine. The Gecko then stood up and walked over to the handball court and the wall where he moved the beam from the torch around as if he was looking for something or making some last calculation. While he was looking around and watching the major, Les suddenly got this feeling someone was watching him. Les always had a sixth sense, which had developed working on the door when you're trying to stay a couple of lengths in front of the trouble, and it hit him right in the pit of his stomach. Except for his eyes swivelling round, Norton stood stock still as he tried to fathom the situation. They were both definitely being watched. Two small red dots just above the floor beneath the shelter caught Les's eye. He watched, transfixed, in the darkness for a second or two. Next thing a shiny black rat about as big as a Shetland pony leapt off the bench, hit the ground with a squeal and galloped over Norton's feet, straight out the entrance where they'd come in.

‘Ohh shit!!' he yelped.

‘What's up?' hissed the major.

‘A bloody rat just ran over my foot. Jesus!'

‘A rat? Christ! I thought you'd been shot.' The Gecko muttered something and went back to what he was doing.

God! I don't like this, Les mumbled to himself, as his nerves settled down and he went back to keeping an eye on things. Rats, bombs, hand grenades, old bodies. I got a bad feeling about this, somehow. The major finished running his torch round the walls and that and appeared to be staring at something in the light at his feet. He bent down for a few moments, then stood up again and seemed to be deep in thought as if something was wrong. In the dark silence of the old handball court, this got Norton more than a bit concerned. All he wanted to do was get the job done and get out of the place.

‘Everything all right, Major?' he enquired, trying to sound casual.

The Gecko continued to stare at the ground a moment more, then turned to Les. ‘Someone's been in here today.'

Les stared down at the major's feet. There were chalk marks and notations on the green edge of the handball court, some of which had been scuffed out. ‘Probably some blokes in here playing handball,' he suggested, ‘or council building inspectors.'

‘Yeah, you could be right.' The major glanced at his watch. ‘Anyway, let's pull our fingers out. It's showtime.'

The Gecko put his torch back inside his vest, picked up the mine, placed it carefully on the ground next to where Les had seen the chalk marks, with a couple of old housebricks across the folded metal legs. From where Les was standing, it appeared to be angled slightly forward and down. The major then screwed the detonating cable into the lug on top and ran the cable out. He gave the mine another small adjustment, then
walked back, put the thermal blanket in the bag and picked up the spool of cable and the firing mechanism.

‘Here, Les,' he said. ‘You take the bag while I run the cable out. We'll go up those stairs near where we came in.'

There was a narrow set of concrete stairs outside the entrance to the handball court that ran under the landing and up into the Icebergs Club. Les started walking towards the stairs, watching as The Gecko ran the cable out behind him and followed him up the stairs. About halfway up the steps, the major stopped.

‘Okay. Just here'll do.'

Norton sat on one of the steps and noticed he was sweating. His heart also felt as if it was going to pound through his chest, while he drowned in the adrenalin that was squirting out of his stomach. Les had been a little nonchalant at times through the week, making jokes about what was going on. Now, this was it, the moment of truth; and no matter what might happen, there was no turning back. Whatever Norton's feelings, The Gecko ignored him. He clamped the cable into the firing mechanism and slid the top off. From his pocket he took two small ear-plugs and stuffed them in his ears, then looked at his watch on his left wrist while his right hand held the trigger. Les watched the back of his head in the gloom for a short while then his head seemed to nod slightly. Les stuffed his fingers in his own ears and closed his eyes tight just as The Gecko closed his right hand.

The hoons on the prom and just about every other citizen around the beachfront and beyond must have wondered what was going on. One minute there was
just the usual street noise of cars and pumping techno music. Then a massive explosion shook all the surrounding windows, interrupted the music and rattled out across the bay like the crack of some monstrous tidal wave smashing down onto wet sand. This was followed by a huge blue fireball, tinged with red and orange, that lit up half the beachfront, as it rolled and tumbled like it was trying to devour itself before it blasted out from the back of the baths, sending half the handball court, the sea wall, concrete, rocks and anything else in its path splashing and spattering into the ocean. What didn't get blown out across the bay or up into the air tumbled down onto the rocks in front of where the handball court used to be. The flash vanished and the echo from the explosion faded, then a gigantic smoke ring spiralled up into the night sky through the settling dust and ash.

From where Les was sitting, it was like being trapped in an Otto bin before someone threw it down a lift shaft. Everything around him seemed to shake and the noise was unimaginable. Norton missed the blue fireball, but, even with his eyes jammed shut, it was as if someone had let off a flash camera next to his head. Then there was this awful silence.

‘Righto, come on, Les, bring the bag. Let's go.'

The major's slightly muffled voice snapped Les back to life. He blinked his eyes open and noticed The Gecko had a hankie tied round his face; the one thing Les had forgotten to bring. ‘Yeah, all right.'

Les picked up the bag and scrambled down the stairs after the major, who was winding up the cable as he went; arms and legs going at a hundred miles an hour.
They raced along the landing and into the handball court, or what was left of it. It was pretty much like the major had said. As if someone had taken out a giant scoop and flicked it out into the ocean. Where the handball court had been was a crater about two metres deep and about six metres across, leading out to sea where, if Les wasn't mistaken, a black rubber ducky was coming into view. Part of the wall into the handball court had been blown off, the fence and the far wall were down, and there was a fine dust settling over everything — something like volcanic ash. But where the sea wall and the handball court had been blown out, it almost formed a ramp down to the rockpool so, apart from the fine dust everywhere, getting the two bodies down to the rubber ducky wouldn't be much of a problem at all. The burnt-off end of the cable finished near the crater. The major wound the last of it up and handed the lot to Les.

‘Put these in the bag, Les,' he said and jumped down into the crater. ‘All we've got to do now is get these bodies and piss off.'

Les took the spool and stuffed it in the canvas bag. He was about to join the major when suddenly Les heard this odd scratching, scampering, squealing sound. He looked at the ash-covered floor and it was like a moving grey carpet. Cockroaches. Millions of them. Along with the relations of the rat Les had seen earlier and
their
relations. Whatever hadn't been nuked was heading for the nearest exit.

‘Don't worry, Major. I'm right behind you.' Les stomped two fat ones that were just about to get on his boots and jumped in the dust-filled crater.

The Gecko was scuffing around on the floor of the crater with his foot. Les put the bag down and watched him as the fine, almost greasy, dust settled in his eyes, ears, nose, mouth, down his T-shirt and anywhere else he had an opening, like dry cement. As he was standing there watching The Gecko, Les heard another strange noise. A creaking, groaning sound, like some giant walking down a huge, old wooden staircase. It was weird and seemed to be coming from beneath him as well as around him. But sure enough, where the major had been scuffing with his foot, a slight hump was sticking out from the smooth floor of the crater that looked like dust-covered oilskin. Once again The Gecko hadn't ceased to amaze. He'd not only gauged the depth of the crater almost to the centimetre, all the surrounding soil and smashed concrete had been loosened up, so they'd have no trouble digging the bodies out as well. Les almost allowed himself a grim smile. Apart from being covered in dust, sweat, and all sorts of other shit in the air, and having cockroaches and rats crawling over him, it didn't look like it was turning out to be too bad a night. Les was about to comment on this to the major when the far side of the crater erupted in great plumes of dust and the angry whine of ricocheting bullets. Les didn't have to be told twice this time to pull his head down. He dived up against the opposite wall of the crater and tried to dig his way into it as another spray of bullets kicked up more dusty geysers about his head. Les heard the faint rattle of a bolt action and the clatter of spent casings landing on concrete and also didn't need to be told someone was firing a silenced automatic weapon at him. He turned to
see the major had tom off his hankie and was burrowed up against the wall next to him.

‘Major, what the fuck's goin' on?'

‘Someone's up there with a machine gun,' answered the major. ‘Two of them.'

‘Not the bloody Mossad again?'

‘I'm buggered if I know.'

Norton was about to say something, when Eddie Salita landed in the dust alongside them, his chest heaving up and down.

‘What the fuck's goin' on?' he said, wiping ash from his eyes. ‘They were bullets.'

‘Someone up there's firing a bloody machine gun at us,' yelped Les.

The Gecko gave Eddie a very strange look. ‘You never mentioned anything about this, Eddie,' he said, slowly and deliberately.

Eddie stared back at the major, then Les, then the major again. ‘Don't ask me what's going on, but I suppose I'd better have a look.' Eddie pulled a Glock automatic pistol from out of a shoulder holster and edged cautiously up to the edge of the crater.

The firing seemed to be coming from the landing above the other side of the stairs where Les and the major took cover when the major let the bomb off. Another burst of fire tore up the top of the crater and Eddie was about to fire a few shots back when a voice hollered out from the landing at the other end of the baths.

‘Government agents! Throw down your weapons!'

Eddie was incredulous. ‘What'd he bloody say?'

Norton shrugged. ‘FBI, I think.'

There was silence for a second then the ping of ricocheting bullets started up on the landing where the voice came from, followed by the clatter of empty casings landing on concrete above the staircase again. This was followed by a string of curses, then firing started up from the other end of the baths. Only this time it wasn't silenced and the noise echoing off the old concrete walls almost sounded like another bomb going off.

‘Well, I don't know who they are,' said The Gecko, ‘but they don't pay my rent, and I've got a train to catch.'

The major crossed his arms beneath his Thomas Cook vest and pulled out the two hand grenades. With a toss of his thumbs, he flicked the pins out and stood up, as whoever it was on both landings started blazing away at each other again, like the siege at Glenrowan. The Gecko tossed the first hand grenade underarm with his right hand up to the closest landing, then bowled the other one overarm onto the far landing. There was another burst of gunfire and the spray of bullets, then two simultaneous explosions followed by four simultaneous screams of pain. Les heard what sounded like the splash of a body landing in the pool and the thump of another one landing above their heads. The major stood up again; so did Les and Eddie. The body was on its back covered in blood and dust, but Les could still recognise the grey hair and the thick, jowly face lolled towards them.

‘It's Boris. What the fuck's he doing here?'

‘I don't think he was down here fishing, Les,' said the major.

‘If he was, he sure picked a bad night.'