Authors: Sean-Paul Thomas
Tags: #suspense thriller, #stephen king horror thriller romance suspense mystery misery, #romance and mystery, #horror mystery
By Sean-Paul Thomas
Copyright 2013 Sean-Paul Thomas - All rights reserved.
Smashwords edition 2013
No part of this book may be reproduced, stored in a retrieval system or transmitted by any means, electronic, mechanical, photocopying, recording, or otherwise, without written permission from the author.
Cover design by Andrew Cairns
It was a stormy night in Glasgow's Easterhouse. Torrential rain lashed down from every conceivable angle, slashing through the air like razorblades. In a nearby grimy and secluded garage lock-up with heavy graffiti smothering almost every garage door in sight, a lone car sat parked halfway along the never-ending rows of garages. With the engine off and lights out, it was a strange place to see a car parked in the middle of the night, especially in such a run down shit-pit estate where even the Police wouldn't patrol without a back up squad van or six. Yet sitting in a silent darkness, the car was easily hidden from sight by the shadows of the garages and flooding rain.
Two dark figures outlined the driver and passenger sides of the motionless vehicle. The two sinister looking men inside were staring in comfortable silence at one garage in particular, right at the far end of the lock up. The man sitting in the drivers seat, Jason, was a rough shaven, ruggedly handsome and well built man in his late twenties. The man sitting beside him in the passenger side was his partner Gary. Pale and skinny, also in his late twenties, yet at first glance by a stranger, more like forty, with scars and pot holes covering the majority of his junkie thin face. Up close, Gary looked a nasty piece of work as he puffed away on his cigarette.
Jason reached underneath his seat and pulled out a handgun, unloading the bullet cartridge before carefully reloading it again.
'I thought you didnae like using that thing at these outings?' Gary said, turning to Jason with a curious stare. His Scottish accent was thick.
'I don't.' Jason replied keeping his eyes firmly fixed upon his gun. His accent sounded more mixed British, a sign of having been well travelled in the past. 'But it's still nice to have options in case things go tits up, you know.'
The two were actually long time friends since primary school, but not here in the weegie wonderland of Glas-Vegas (Glasgow). Rather the gritty and hardened streets of Leith in East Edinburgh, fifty miles east.
Jason had always been the quiet tough guy at school, mainly because of who his father was and still is to this day. Tommy Broughton! One of the biggest, baddest and meanest gangsters there ever was or had been in Auld Reekie town. There wasn't a brothel, sauna, strip joint, drug basement factory, casino or up and coming Politician, he didn't have his greasy little paws dipped deeply into somewhere in the capital. And although Jason knew plenty of other kids in the area growing up with hard men fathers who'd take great pleasure in reminding the other local kids of that fact by bragging continuously. Most of these hard men fathers either worked for Tommy or lived in fear of him. So their young sons and daughters always zipped their mouths tightly shut when Jason was around. And because of the other kids silent respect and fear for him, he'd never felt the urge to threaten them with words of 'who he knew' and 'who his father was.'
Another reason they never messed with him was Jason could pretty much handle himself anyway. With good genes from his Russian Gymnast mother's side, Jason was taking part and winning most of his sporting events inside and outside of school, from short and long distance running to football, rugby and boxing.
Jason knew while growing up that his father was not a particularly nice man and always up to no good somewhere around the continent. Even the things he'd done at home, especially to Jason's own mother, continued to haunt him to this day. But regardless of how Jason felt about his father's treatment of his own mother and the other hundreds of people under his fear and control around the city, he knew his father loved his only son dearly. Of course Jason loved his father too, just maybe not as obsessively much.
Jason, like all good sons, had rebelled during his late teenage years. He'd ran away from home, travelled the world, joined the army and then fell flat on his face after being discharged for fighting with three officers at the same time. Only to return home to Edinburgh with his tale between his legs and to let his Daddy pick up the pieces. Putting him to work as one of his top thug hench-men in the burgh and a soon to be worthy successor to the Tommy Broughton sleazy empire when he finally retired. Secretly and unbeknown to Tommy and Jason, there was another, closer at hand, who would have something to say about that. But all in good time.
Jason had been back in his father's good books for almost a year. Set up with a beautiful three bedroom apartment on the harbour, an equally beautiful ex stripper wife intact with her own beautiful belly bump at five months old. Yes, Jason had landed on his feet again after returning from his army life. But how long would it last was anyone's guess.
His best mate Gary had always been on the wrong side of the law. An ex junkie, turned dealer when Jason's father finally turned his eye to the drug street distributing trade and recruited him to supply and deal for him on the streets of Edinburgh. Gary had been well looked after by Tommy over the years and it was suffice to say he looked upon Gary as somewhere in between nephew and close step son. Of course Tommy knew Gary had a drug problem. But as long as he worked hard, held his turf, kept making an impressive profit and always turned up clean for exchanges, meet ups and deals, Tommy would always turn a blind eye to Gary's after school shenanigans.
Back in Glasgow and the Easter-house garage lock up, Jason finished cleaning and loading his gun. He tucked it into his jeans then pulled out a half bottle of Jack Daniels from underneath the driver's seat too. He took an overly long sip before passing it, without words to Gary. Before he could even take a sip there was some movement at the far end of the lock up, in amongst the shadows. The far end garage which Jason and Gary were staking out so intensely began to open.
'Play time.' Gary said smiling sinisterly, stabbing out his fag in the car ashtray. He took a quick sip from the bottle of whisky before screwing back on the lid and stuffing it underneath his seat. Immediately Jason started the engine, equal in sound to the crashing thick heavy rain drops on the concrete slabs outside. He flicked the bright headlights on then slammed his foot down hard on the accelerator and sped towards the opening garage.
In total there were five men inside. All of them different ages and build, readying to exit. Some of them were smiling cheerfully and congratulating themselves. They had little time to gather their thoughts and wits as Jason and Gary sped straight through the half open garage doorway. They slammed the first two men hard into the left side wall. A third man was crushed underneath the car. His head popping underneath the tyres like a water melon as the car rammed all the way over him. The fourth and fifth were pinned to the front bonnet as Jason rammed the car hard up against the stone wall at the back of the garage, bringing the vehicle to an abrupt halt. The fourth man was killed outright. His back crushed against the hard stone wall as both his eyeballs popped from their sockets, spilling onto the bonnet with the sheer force of the impact.
The fifth man, clutching onto a large briefcase, tried to climb desperately onto the bonnet to escape the violent smash, but he was too late to react to save his lower body as his legs crushed against the stone wall along with the man beside him. It took a second for the shock to set in before he began screaming out in agony, yet still clutching onto his briefcase for dear life. His screams were horrendous, echoing throughout the lock up complex. Nobody nearby who might of heard cared though. Whether it were someone out walking their dogs, sleeping in their beds or entertaining themselves in their own homes with late night adult TV, would even raise and eyebrow. Late night screams and howls of both pain and joy were a common occurrence in this neck of the woods. If anything bad happened to anyone around these parts then it was usually well deserved.
Jason casually switched off the engine but kept the headlights shining. He exited the car with Gary and grabbed a steel crowbar from underneath his seat. Instantly something caught his eye and he whipped around to throw the steel bar directly at the first man who'd been slammed against the side wall, yet had somehow miraculously unpinned himself to do a hobbling runner out into the wild storm. It was a perfect throw. The crow bar cracked the fleeing man on the back of his skull hard, sending him crashing to the rain swept floor in an agonising concussed heap.
Gary pulled out his own huge knife strapped to the inside of his jacket and brutally stabbed half a dozen times into the second, semi-conscious man, still trapped up against the opposite side wall. He didn't even think twice about it. Jason calmly made his way out into the downpour. He approached the man he'd just put down with his crowbar and casually picked it up. He raised the lethal weapon again, ready to strike down upon the man's head, surely finishing him off, when, out of the shadows, a sixth, hidden man, burst out from the corner of the dark garage. He charged Jason like a wild Rhino, swinging a large sledge hammer above his head. Jason crouched instinctively from the surprise attack while spinning around, crowbar in hand, to crack the sixth man's knee cap with such force that his leg snapped in two, right at the knee. The man howled in agony, collapsing to the floor like a sack of potatoes. Jason threw his crowbar to the ground and picked up the man's sledge hammer instead. A look of glee spread across his face and glistened from his eyes.
'Nice stick.' Jason admired swinging it up and above the man's head. 'Don't mind if I try it out do you pal?'
Jason brought the sledge hammer crashing down upon the man's skull killing him out right.
Inside the garage Gary continued to stab the second man repeatedly in the ribs. He just wouldn't die. Frustrated, he threw his knife to the ground, pulling out his own gun. He pointed it under the man's chin and blew a clean hole right the way through his head.
'WOULD YOU JUST FUCKING DIE ALREADY YA CUNT.' Gary shrieked insanely.
Outside, Jason turned towards the first man again who had managed to drag himself up onto all fours. Without flinching or showing any sign of remorse, Jason brought the sledge hammer violently down upon the man's hand, crushing his fingers into the concrete slabs like red jelly. The man howled. Jason swung the sledge hammer once more. This time with a greater force, right into the man's screaming face, killing him instantly. Bit's of teeth, jaw, nose and brain splattered into the rain. Jason tried to pull the embedded sledgehammer out from the man's face and skull. But the hammer would not budge.
'Fuck.' Jason sighed.
'They teach you that in the army, Jase?' smirked Gary standing with his arms folded on the edge of the garage.
'Leith high school mate.' Jason replied pushing what was left of the first man's head back to the floor with his feet. He had to step on the poor man's neck for support just to pull the bloodied sledgehammer out.