Page 1 of Pit

Chapter One

Pit

I flick my cigarette and watch the orange glow splinter into the darkness. Crushing it with my heavy boot, I release the smoke from my lungs. Pulling my mobile from my pocket, I accept the call from my President and press the handset to my ear. “Pres?”

“Pit, I got a lead,” he says. “I’m sending the location through to the burner.”

“Kay,” I mutter, disconnecting before stuffing it back in my pocket. I get out the burner phone and switch it on.

The Chaos Demons have been moving drugs and weapons from warehouses across London and over to countries that pay a good price for them. But recently, we’ve had to stop moving everything because the boys in blue are watching us closely, which means we have a lot of units sitting full, and now, they’re being hit. One by one, they’ve been targeted and emptied, and we’re now at a four-container loss.

I stare out across the Thames. The dark, murky water offers me comfort, and I briefly close my eyes until the vibration of the phone forces me back to reality.

The address is only a few minutes away, but I head back to the bike and throw my leg over. If I leave it here, it’ll get towed—London is savage for parking.

Minutes later, I pull up outside a large factory. Shadow, my Sergeant at Arms, and Grizz, my VP, are already waiting as I dismount and head over to where they wait. “Axel didn’t say I’d have company,” I mutter, shaking hands with each of them.

“Is it a problem?” Grizz asks.

“No problem,” I reply, looking at the large building. “Are we going in or standing about talking?”

Grizz rolls his eyes and pushes the gate. It creaks open, and we edge towards the door. “You got a weapon?” he asks, looking back at me briefly before trying the door and finding it locked.

“No,” I say, raising my boot and kicking it right in the centre. It pops open and I head inside.

“Fuck,” mutters Grizz. “You’re a loose cannon.”

I pull out my phone and flick on the torch, illuminating the entrance hall. There’s no sign of anyone, so I move to the first room, and again, it’s empty. We continue on, opening each door to what used to be offices and finding no one.

“Pres showed us the floor plans before we came out. There’s a basement,” says Shadow.

“What are we waiting for?” I ask, wondering why the fuck it wasn’t mentioned before.

We find the stairs that lead down, and as we get to the bottom, there’s a metal gate with the lock off, slightly ajar. I listen for a second, making out the sound of humming. Pressing my finger to my lips, I indicate for the other two to stay quiet as I gently ease the gate open wider. We slip through, and I peer around the wall, spotting stacks of crates. I grin and look back at the VP, giving him a nod.Jackpot.

We move into the room, ducking behind the crates until a desk comes into view. Sitting behind it is a man I don’t recognise, butI know instantly he isn’t the mastermind behind it all because he’s too laid back with his feet propped up on the desk, a casual T-shirt and jeans, and a pair of Crocs.Fucking Crocs.I shake my head and stand fully, moving towards him quickly. He doesn’t have time to remove his feet before I have him by the throat and pinned back in the chair. He coughs violently as I restrict the airflow.

“You’ve got some explaining to do,” I growl, releasing his throat. He inhales sharply, pulling his feet from the desk. “What the fuck have you got on your feet?” I ask.

“Fuck’s sake,” hisses Grizz. “Seriously, what’s your problem with Crocs?”

“They’re impractical for a start. If you’re gonna sit down here and guard shit this important, have some good footwear so you can run away when we arrive.”

Shadow begins lifting the lids on crates. “This is them,” he confirms.

I punch the guy in the nose, busting it. He groans, cupping his face. “And because of your stupid footwear, you now have blood on your feet. It’ll pool in those shitty shoes and you’ll slip around. You’ll never be able to run.”

“Cut the crap,” snaps Grizz. He leans on the desk, fixing the guy with a glare. “Who the fuck do you work for?”

“I just get paid to sit here,” he cries, pinching the bridge of his nose to try and stem the bleeding.

“By?” Grizz pushes.

“I dunno.”

I crack him in the face again. “Lies.”

“I don’t know,” he wails louder. I deliver a precise blow to his stomach, and he doubles over, coughing again.

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