Page 300 of 7+Us Makes Nine

It was a good few hours still until Goldie left the bar, staggering slightly. Drunk at 3pm. I figured it would make my job all the easier.

He walked drunkenly over to his car which was parked near the bar, struggling with his keys as he opened the driver’s door. He set off, swerving only slightly as he drove, hopefully back to his place. I smiled ironically at his surprisingly good driving.

You’ve done this before, ain’t ya. Still, driving a little too slow. It’ll be easy to keep up, at least.

I followed behind his car, surprised by the direct route he took back to his bungalow near the middle of town. Money and power had made him overconfident, it seemed. Decent sized, immaculate garden. Pool by the side of the house. Drug money extravagantly spent already without regard of suspicion.

What a moron.

I gave him a minute to get out of his car and stagger to his front door. I ran my hand over my short hair, watching as he approached his house.

I quickly jumped out of my car, which I’d parked a way down the road from his house. He looked round in surprise as I vaulted his picket fence, his jaw slack, hand still on the open door in front of him.

He raised his arms in attempted defence, turning to face me as I rushed across his lawn. I was too quick for him. Anger surged through me, turning into raw power as I swung a right fist at his face, solid knuckles crunching against his cheekbone. He staggered back, head cracking against the doorframe as he half fell through his doorway.

“You can’t come in here, Jack. You ain’t got a warrant. Fuck off!” He had recovered slightly and stood, hands raised in defence. He’d adopted a rough fighter’s stance.

I stepped in the house, slamming the door behind me.

“Oh, I got my warrant right here.” I growled, hand in my trench coat. He looked in surprise at my jacket, confusion on his face.

I swung my clenched fist from my jacket, swinging my arm in a savage backhanded punch that connected with his other cheekbone. He grunted and fell back, landing heavily on his ass.

He attempted to rise. I stepped in, swinging a leg in a brutal side kick, my shin connecting to his temple with a sickening crunch. He slumped back onto the floor.

“Fucks sake, Jack. You’re an animal. I ain’t done nothing wrong. What’s your problem?” I got the impression he was stalling to avoid the savage beating he was about to get.

Then my suspicions were confirmed. A clumsy hand went to the small of his back, and he snarled as he twisted, drawing something from the rear of his pants.

My glock was in my hand in an instant, recoil pulsing up through my arm as I shot him in the shoulder. The gunshot cracked out through the house. Followed by Goldie screaming in pain as he writhed, right arm useless.

“Now that was a really, really bad idea.” I stood motionless, left hand at my side, right hand holding my gun casually. I waited to see if he was going to try anything else.

I need him alive. But if he wants to die, not much I can do about it.

He remained on the floor, gasping with pain and cursing at me.

“Shut up, John. It’s not that bad. Try anything else and you’re dead. If you don’t believe me, just do something stupid.” He snarled at me, anger and pain evident on his ugly features.

“That was for hitting Eden. You’re lucky I’m able to show restraint or you’d be a pulverized, useless mess on the floor. I told you not to try and think, didn’t I John? I told you not to be greedy. You’ve let me down, again.” I shook my head, tutting.

“Now, as it is no one knows I’m here. I’m looking into Conall solo, and I’ve been damn sly about it so far. So if you think anyone’s coming to help, you’re wrong.” He winced, managing to sit up, hand at the wound in his chest that was pulsing blood onto his wooden floor.

“So, here’s how this went down in my report. I came here to ask you a few questions. Friendly like. You swung at me. I hit you. You drew a gun and got shot. It’s my word against yours, a known snitch.” I looked down at him as he cowered pathetically in front of me.

&nb

sp; “I’m taking you in, John. You had your second chance. We made a deal and you blew it. Game’s over now. All you can do is make things a little easier for yourself, right?” He nodded at me.

“Tell me where Conall’s lab is. Where they cook. You tell me that and I’ll let you make a deal with us. Sing like a bird and you won’t go away for the rest of your life.” He was looking down at the floor, his face flooded with despair.

“Jack. I never told Conall about nothing, I promise. I just needed more money. You know what it’s like. I was getting peanuts while the other guys were talking about their new houses. Watches. Cars. Wives.” He looked up at me, pleading.

“Listen. I’m rolling with Conall now. One of his trusted. I got cash, man. Lots of it. I can have a word with Conall, we ca….”

I shot him in the left thigh, trying to avoid any major blood vessels but still made sure the wound was deep enough to sear with excruciating pain. He cried out, sobbing.

“Tell me where the lab is John, or I will kill you. You’re useless to me otherwise.” I walked over to him, handcuffing him with a little difficulty as he struggled in pain.

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