Traffic 6 – Having a chat

HTML clipboardThe oxford English Dictionary defines the word team as “…..two or more people working together” which is what we do and having crashed our way into the house is just what we did.

T was fairly typical house, The front door opened into a long hallway with two room downstairs off to the left and the stairs going up on our right.  There was a living room at the front of the property and a dinning room at the back and a kitchen at the end of the hallway.  Not palatial, just normal.

The five man scrum charged into the hallway dragging the hapless Gavin along.  The two front men – Andy and Boris had the guns we had taken from the other flat drawn and ready to use.  With their right arms extended we hurtled through the property like a dose of salts.  There is no time for niceties.  In quick and hard, secure everyone in there so they can’t piss about and then pick the bones out of who is who and what is what.  Opposition or resistance is met with the maximum amount of force to keep the game going our way.  No more, but definitely no less.

The first door was almost immediately on our left and Andy peeled off, gun extended in front of him as an extension of his arm “LIE DOWN LIE DOWN” was his introduction to the three men sitting there.  There were sounds of astonished protest, but the order was shouted out again as He was joined by Benny the boat who dumped Gavin on the floor  of the front room.

At the same time the the second team were heading towards us having come through the kitchen.  As predicted they had had no problem getting in from the back.  Boris charged towards them and into the room at the back just ahead of BF and SB.  The order to lie down was shouted but almost at there same time there was a very loud bang, the unmistakable sound of a gun shot and then more shouted orders and the sounds of breaking furniture and somebody being restrained non too gently.

I was heading up the stairs followed by Obo 2 and Benny, who, having deposited Gavin was needed to secure the upstairs.

I got to the top of the stairs and turned left and moved towards the front and crashed through the door of the front bedroom, which as per the norm turned out to be the biggest bedroom.  It smelt sweaty and shut up with the heavy odour of perfume and people.  It was dimly lit in a sort of red glow from a bedside light with a tatty lamp shade with tassels.  Not exactly Ikea.  There was a flat screen TV with a porn film running.  All I could see were limbs and flesh tones and to be honest this was not the time to settle down with a Chicken tikka a and a couple of cans of Stella.

The bed was directly in front of the door.  It had a grubby looking old fashioned pink/red quilt on it along with a naked bloke of about 60 who was lying on his back with a young naked girl holding his todger. If I was to guess, I would have said that I had just interrupted her giving him a blow job.  They both looked at me.  I thought it was our girl Sam, but could not be entirely sure because of the dim light, her makeup and simply because of how different she looked to the photo her mum and dad had shown me.  Her face was sort of gaunt  and her eyes dark and puffy.  Any way, irrespective of who she was, the agenda here is to secure everyone so nobody is tempted to do anything stupid. I shouted at them “DO NOT MOVE UNLESS I TELL YOU TO”

The girl let out a sort of shriek.  I pointed at her “YOU DORIS, OFF THE BED, ON THE FLOOR, FACE DOWN, NOW!”  She moved like greased lightening half trying to cover her fanny and young bouncing tits,  but she did seem more intent on just trying to get out of the way and do as she was told.  In the circumstances I don’t know why she should cover herself up but that’s humans for you.

“YOU ON YOUR FRONT!” pointing at nudey boy.

“who the fuck…”  He sat up resting on his elbows …Wrong answer.  I reached down and with my right hand grabbed his hair and with my left hand took a hefty grip of his nuts and started to lifted him

“FUCKIN MOVE” I shouted.

The silly fucker just could not do as he was told could he and lashed out.  His fists crunched into the helmet and although it was noisy, I am very pleased to say it did not hurt me as much as it hurt him.  Like most people my strongest arm is my right, but in this case, my left hand was doing a a bloody good job of crushing his nuts so it was this hand that remained in place.  I let go of his hair, his head dropped back before he realised it was going to.  He let out a yelp of pain as he ricked his neck, but he soon forgot that as my open right hand drove forward.  The palm smashed into his face and any further ideas of fighting disappeared along with the rigidity of his nose. There was the familiar crunch of cartilage and gristle as his nose gave way and blood splattered over his chest and the bed.  He stopped trying to fight and drew his hands to his face in a vain attempt to staunch the flow of blood.

There were a few shouts coming from other parts of the house but it sounded as if all was under control.

“HUw bwoke my hanose” he gasped – clearly a sharp cookie with some medical knowledge.

“ROLL OVER” I shouted and this time he did, albeit reluctantly.

“HANDS BEHIND YOUR BACK”  he wanted to, but he just couldn’t leave his nose alone, but he didn’t resist and his wrists and ankles were secured with a couple of cable ties in the blink of an eye.

I turned to where the girl was lying on the floor.

“HANDS BEHIND YOUR BACK”  she did as she was told and lay there naked like a rag doll whilst I secured her hands.

I was kneeling by her head “What’s your name?”

“FUCK OFF AND LEAVE ME ALONE” was her hysterical reply

I picked her up by the hair at the side of her head (do you remember teachers used to be able to do that and fuck me did it hurt.  In fact it still does.) she screamed in pain.

“I do not have time to fuck around girly, I asked you what is your name?”

She was gasping and starting to cry and the yank on her hair had told her that I really did mean business.

“Ssssssssaaaaaaaaaammmmmmeerrrrrrrr” she wailed

I put my hand gently on her head and she flinched expecting more pain.

“Its alright Sam, do as your told and everything will be alright, we’ve come to take you home ”

she was breathing heavily, sniffing and almost sobbing but not quite, but enough so I did not understand what she was saying.

“Sam, where are your clothes?”

Eventually I got it out of her that they were down stairs with Danny.

“Stay here I will be back in minute”  Idiot Norman, as if she was going to go anywhere, stark bollock naked in winter with her hands cable tied behind her back.  Actually, can we say women are stark bollock naked?  Anyway, whatever,  she was naked.  I stood up and pulled the quilt off the bed from under the bleeding punter.  It was cheap, old tacky and greasy, in short it felt vile, but it was the only thing I could see to cover her up and keep her warm.

Obo2 was in the room “All secure Boss, but they need you downstairs pronto”

I told him to stay put there and I would find some clothes for Sam.

“There’s another girl and two punters in the room next door.  She don’t look so good I reckons she is well out of it on drugs, but she was being ‘ad by both blokes when we got in there.”

“Nice I’ll take a look in a mo”

I ran down stairs to the back room where I had hear the gun shot fearing the worse.  In the back room there was a dining table pushed to one side and looked as if it was being used as a desk.  On it were a laptop some papers, two canvas bags or stachels and a pile of bank notes.

Danny was lying face down on the floor and was not looking so hot.  At a guess,  from the angle of his right arm I would say it was dislocated but more likely broken.  He was moaning on about something or other and bleeding from the face and had a cut on the side of his head, but he was still being gobby.

It was BF who spoke “Little fucker tried to shoot Boris with this”  He handed me what looked like a Berretta, but it was lighter than normal which made me think that it was a converted imitation.  Mind you, quite clearly who had ever done the converting, knew what they were doing.

“You alright?” I asked Boris.

“Yeah no harm done, it’s not as bad as it could have been, little shit head”

“Yeah fortunately it missed by the hair of a gnats knacker and went into the door frame” Said SB.

“Right boys apart from that, what do we have here?”

BF  gave a sit rep ” Right Boss, in terms of bodies, there are three punters waiting for fun with the girls and the black lad next door.  It would seem he looks after the money and the door.  Danny here, well he has a cupboard full of pills what looks like a hefty mix of H and blow. Plus….” He turned his back on me and put his hand into one of two canvas satchels and the pile of bank notes that were on the table and turned round holding two hefty wads of wonger “LOADS OF MONEY” in his best Harry Enfield voice.

I went over to where Danny was and knelt down on one knee by his head and lifted his head up so he looked at me.

“Hello Danny ” I said pleasantly

“You’re well in the shit, you are, I’m goin to complain about you” he wheezed

“Oh really, who to exactly” I said all calmly.

“THE IPCCC or whoever does coppers” he half shouted.


“What is?” he wheezed again

“What makes you think we will leave you alive to complain, Danny?”

“You can’t..”

I grabbed his hair  and yanked his head upwards with as much force as I could he yelped, gasped, panted and tried to protest

“DO NOT TELL ME WHAT I CAN AND CANNOT DO YOU LITLLE FUCK PIG” and drove his face into the floor.

I stood up, time was getting on and we really should not hang around longer than necessary.

“Right find out where these guns have come from, then round up all the money you can find and lets go”

I almost forgot the girls clothes.  Initially Danny didn’t want to play ball, but there is nothing like a 110kg bloke standing on your head to make you change your mind and he suddenly remembered where the clothes were.  I left BF and Bob to find out about the guns, and I knew it would not take them long.

I went into the front room.  The black dude looked a bit better than Danny but not much.  His right eye was totally closed and he had a mega split over his right eye and he was bleeding like a stuck pig.

“Reckons he’s a bit of a boxer” Said Andy nodding at the trussed youth and passing me another hand gun.  Apparently a Browning 9mm, but it wasn’t real.

“Not with weak eyes like that he isn’t” I replied.  Our conversation was rudely interrupted by a short muted scream from the room next door.

Andy and I looked at each other and then at the black lad on the floor.

“I tried telling him Boss, but you know what these lads are, knows all the answers”

I knelt down next to this joker.

“Hello son what’s being go on then?”

Had he being standing he would have given a shrug, but he wasn’t standing so he sort of wriggled on the floor.

“Not too chatty?”

He wriggled again.

“Ah well not that I give a fuck”

I stood up “What about you lot”

The three other blokes looked at the carpet and said nothing then one man spoke up.  He was very well spoken and very expensively dressed “Look officer, there has been a terrible misunderstanding.  I understand you chaps have a job to do and I am right behind you, we all are, but I was told there was somebody here who wanted investment advice, I don’t know any more than that.”

“Really?” I said

“Yes indeed” he said more confidently

“Where do you live?”


“Where do you live, its not a hard question, most people know where they live”

“Oh yes quite erm well err Dulwich” he said

“I bet you do, so if we speak to your wife or secretary, they will confirm you had an appointment here?”

“Erm well I erm er don’t know if they could” He stammered

“Nice try, but just quit whilst your behind”

He shut up.

I turned to Andy.  “Search them and cop their names and addresses and then let them go and when they are out of here give hime something to think about”

I went back into the dining room

“Got the rub on the guns Boss” said BF

Danny was whimpering and has pissed himself.  I don’t know what they had done to him, but I do know they are quick, clean and efficient and not their methods are not approved of in Geneva.

“Right on the hurry up now please chaps”

We had been here less than 5 minutes but the clock was ticking and it really was time to sort the girls and get out, after all I would hate for us to overstay our welcome it is most impolite.

2 Responses to “Traffic 6 – Having a chat”

  1. dl says:

    Nice circles you move in, Norm!

  2. Uncle says:

    DL – Quite up market really, just misunderstood!

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