“Just go to your room.”

  Thomas glared at his dad with fury; at first Jake actually thought his own son was going to hit him. Thomas ended the glare and stormed off upstairs. Jake Campbell cursed his own son under his breath, and switched on the TV. Jake didn't believe his son at all. He was almost convincing, but he didn't believe him. He had only taken him to the police station to shut him up.

  For twenty minutes Thomas ranted and raved about a conspiracy that was happening right under their noses. At first, Jake laughed the story off when Thomas blurted the story in their living room, but as minutes passed, he became more angst with his son and practically dragged him to the car and took him to the police station just to shut him up so he could spend the rest of his evening in peace. Even when Thomas spilled out his story to Sergeant Wilkins, Jake gave the officer a look to establish that he didn't believe a word of what his son was saying.

  The TV had only been on for a matter of minutes when a light filled his living room. Jake covered his eyes and got to his feet. He knew it was a pair of headlights, and headed towards his living room window when the lights were switched off. He saw Aiden MacDonald and Brian Jenkins get out of the white Transit that was parked outside of his house. The two men took a glance at Jake and went up the Campbell's front garden path.

  Jake opened the door and smiled at the two men. “Problem, fellas?”

  Aiden spoke, “Get your son from his bedroom, and then get yourselves in the back of that van.”

  “What?" Jake burst into laughter.

  Aiden pulled out his dagger and pressed the point gently on Jake’s chest inbetween the ribcages. “Just do it.”

  *****

  Sally saw the headlights from her bedroom; she had just stepped out of the shower. And wearing nothing but a white towel covering her breasts, she peered out of her window and saw Brian with Aiden heading towards the Campbell's house.

  “What's going on?” she whispered aloud.

  Brian turned around and spotted Sally; he waved at Sally to get her head down. Startled that she could be seen, she closed her blinds, and dried herself off. She picked up her phone and read her new text message from Brian.

  Chapter Forty

  The highest point of Rugeley was an unlit wooded area called Stile Cop. It had four acres of a flat sandy surface that was used mainly as a car park, and was half surrounded by the woods which was situated to the right if one was facing the entrance, and to the left was a steep hill, where at the bottom of the hill was covered in bracken. The trees from the woods and the bracken at the bottom of the hill during the day, would fail to hide an individual if that was what was required, because they had almost shed their greenery due to the emergence of winter, not that it mattered on this Sunday evening at nearly six o’clock, as darkness was looming on this chilly late January night.

  Stile Cop was technically a few hundred yards outside of Rugeley, but people still classed it as a part of the town, and it was a mile away from a small village called Hazelslade. In the past, the place used to be notorious for couples engaging in extra marital affairs and dogging, to name a few. This had been soon cleared up after regular visits from members of the firm to the site, where warnings were given out, as well as beatings to people who protested.

  This was one of the first places to be cleaned up when the firm began. Aiden Macdonald had been up to Stile Cop on many occasions, and on the first visit in the early days, he and Marley dragged a half naked man out of the car and smacked him with a baseball bat in front of two other cars that were active. On their second visit, he only had to step out of his van and within minutes, the cars had left the area with vamoose. The story of the half naked man being beaten had spread like wildfire. It became apparent that it wasn’t much fun trying to copulate with another in Stile Cop, especially if you had to look over your shoulder every ten seconds.

  During the day, Stile Cop was full of hill walkers, dog walkers, children and teenagers who wanted to head towards the woods for adventure. During the night, it was desolate; although occasionally a car driven by Jenkins or Macdonald would pull up to check if anything untoward was occurring. It was always a pointless exercise as there never was anything untoward, not anymore.

  The murkiness was becoming darker as the minutes progressed, and the only light that could be seen was from the three sets of headlights that had pulled up onto the sandy surface, and the full moon that beamed down as it hung in the bruised sky with a fat grin.

  For the first time in many months on an evening, more than one car had entered the area. The three cars pulled up facing the notorious hill; their bumpers stopped by the barrier that prevented cars from rolling down the steep decline into the bracken. A white Transit van was the first to switch its headlights off. The car next to it on the left, a silver Meriva, did the same, followed by the black Fiat at the end that was nearest the entrance.

  Aiden Macdonald and a fretful Brian Jenkins were the first to step out of the white van. Out of the Meriva stepped out Ricky Hernandez and Luke Beattie. Hernandez had stepped out of the car laughing as if he had just told his younger passenger a joke. It unnerved Jenkins that someone so young could be so cool in a situation where nobody knew what was really going on. Or did he?

  “What do you think’s gonna happen?” Jenkins asked Macdonald quietly.

  “Dunno,” Aiden muttered, his lips hardly moving. "It's a bit cloak and dagger. But we were that close," Aiden made a gesture with his thumb and forefinger, "to being arrested, thanks to that man and his boy."

  Jenkins couldn’t hide his nerves and nudged Macdonald gently in the side, and whispered, “D’ya think Jake and his son will get a warning?”

  “I think it might be a bit more serious than that.”

  “But you said—"

  “I had to get you up here somehow,” Aiden snapped through gritted teeth.

  A hood of concern began to suffocate Brian; this was his worst nightmare. If he thought the night where a man was ripped to shreds by two bull mastiffs was bad, he felt this could be a whole lot worse. This was people he knew, people who had never committed a crime in their lives.

  “I can’t kill a kid,” he confessed. “I’ve never really killed anyone before.”

  “Listen, I don’t like this anymore than you, but if the kid or his dad squeals, the firm will go tits up, which basically means that you, me, the boss…everyone, will face a nice hefty prison sentence. Anyway, the dad’s a screw. Kill a screw, and the inmates will love ya. Apparently, Gomez is not happy that they know.”

  “We won't last five minutes in prison. If Gomez is that pissed with us for fucking things up, he’s got the money and the power to have us killed inside, even the big man.”

  Aiden stared at Jenkins. For the first time in a long time he felt afraid. He felt afraid because Jenkins had a very good point.

  Jenkins shook his head and could feel tears welling up under his eyes. “I’d rather die than kill innocent people, especially a kid.”

  “Is that right, Brian?” Hernandez walked up to Jenkins and glared at him with hostility. Hernandez turned his head to the side and yelled. “Did you hear that, big man?”

  A pair of feet stepped onto the sandy surface, as the door to the black Fiat swung open. “Hear what?” came the voice from David Waters.

  He was dressed casually in black jeans and black T-shirt. He shut the door behind him, straightened his glasses and his cool composure also unnerved Jenkins. Something felt wrong.

  “This chicken shit would rather die than kill innocent people,” Hernandez spoke to Waters without making eye contact, still glaring at Jenkins and took a step closer.

  “Back off, Rick.” Macdonald pushed Hernandez back. It was hard enough to force Hernandez to stumble to the floor. Hernandez got up straight away and was clearly embarrassed how powerful Macdonald was, and how little effort he needed to push him over. He brushed the sand off his clothes

  “We’ve been doin’ this shit for years,” Jenkins informed Hernandez tensely. “So stop causing trouble.”

  “Right, gentleman.” Waters clapped his hand together. “Let’s calm down, shall we?”

  “David, you should have got rid of that little prick when he attacked Moseley!” Macdonald protested.

  Hernandez flashed Aiden a smile and sarcastically blew him a kiss.

  Waters grinned. “I know he’s been trouble, but he’s passionate about what he does. We can nurture what he has and make his aggression controlled. I should know, he used to be in my classes."

  “He loves the violence too much.”

  Waters smiled at Macdonald, but it came across as a patronising grin. He rested his six foot one frame against his black Fiat. “We all love the violence, whether it's actually doing it or just observing it. How do you explain people who pay money to watch movies where you can see people being killed, tortured, even raped? Or what about people paying money to play games where you can be at your most violent? How do you explain people paying money to see two grown men beating each other to a pulp?”

  “That’s different. That’s in a controlled manner, in a controlled environment.”

  “Exactly, and with guidance we can turn Mr. Hernandez into a fine member of our clan. Mr. Gomez is very excited about him.”

  “He,” Macdonald couldn’t bare to mention his name, “will bring this firm to its knees, he’ll fuck up one day, he’s too much of a loose cannon and could bring the police sniffing around.”

  “Don’t you worry about the police, Aiden. We have a couple of them under control.” Waters smiled confidently. "Besides, you're still a loose cannon, and we're still sticking by you."

  “Not all of the police are in Gomez's pocket, surely? I guess it would cost too much to pay the whole force off, even for Gomez.”

  “We found over the years that there were only a few that could be trusted. One of them just so happens to be a desk sergeant, and this particular individual happened to be on duty when Mr. Campbell and his son turned up in person and told the desk sergeant everything they knew about us. The desk sergeant immediately rang Jenny once they left. If those two had rung the police, or if there happened to be another officer on duty, we’d all now be in for questioning. So our firm is still together, but only by sheer luck. No thanks to those two individuals.”

  Macdonald added, “But Moseley is okay, isn’t he? We threw him in a pool and he’s been scared shitless ever since, he's never going to blab. Can’t we do the same with these two?”

  “No, I have every confidence that Moseley won’t blab; the only mistake Moseley made was to make it clear that he knew what was going on, thanks to an ex-associate of ours, and hinted that he may tell someone. He never actually did anything. But I have my reservations about these two, as these two have already made the huge step by going to the police. And myself as well as Mr. Gomez and his daughter, Jenny, believe it would be best for everyone if the Campbells were no more.”

  Macdonald added, “If anything happens to them, the police will be sniffing around the street.”

  “Of course, but the sniffing will eventually stop, and we will live our lives as we normally do.”

  “How we gonna do this?” Jenkins nervously asked, furiously scratching his left ear lobe.

  “That’s more like it,” Waters laughed. “A bit of enthusiasm from our cowardly Mr. Jenkins at last.”

  “Cowardly?”

  “Leave him alone, David,” Macdonald scolded. “None of us have been in this situation before in over the four years we've been doing this. I’d be lying if I said I wasn’t shittin’ a brick.”

  Waters stopped leaning against his car and stood up straight. He made eye contact with Brian, and his face frowned with disappointment. “It’s been obvious for a while you’ve been losing interest in this.”

  Jenkins said, “Beating up drug dealers, rapists, sex offenders—I can handle that! But leading a guy to be ripped to pieces by two bull mastiffs is fucking sick!” Jenkins protested. "And now this."

  “He was sick!” Waters scoffed. “And to be fair, how many people have we actually disposed of over the years to protect our people? Two? Three? Not many. It's not as if it's something we do on a weekly or even monthly basis."

  “Samson deserved it Brian,” Macdonald nodded his head. "And Foley."

  “What about killing a dad and his son? Don’t you think they’ve gone through enough as it is?” Jenkins spoke with a shudder in his voice.

  Waters' facial expression had changed, and he glared at Jenkins with exasperation engraved on his face. “Are you happy to spend ten to twenty years in prison?”

  Jenkins shrugged his shoulders and lowered his head. “Of course not.”

  “That’s why we need to get rid of these two.”

  “Moseley will put two and two together if those two disappear, he’ll get suspicious, he—"

  “Like I said, don’t worry about him. I’m happy the way things are with Moseley; he’s not a threat. He knows what's at risk, and a nice Christmas bonus that he had received a few weeks ago should tighten those lips of his.”

  “Why were we instructed to tie them up?”

  Waters sighed, “The loss of a loved one is a terrible thing, which is why the Campbells will unfortunately gas themselves in this stolen car, as they both realise they cannot live without their beloved wife and mother. Stile Cop is the suicide capital of the West Midlands, don't you read the papers?”

  “This is sick,” Jenkins half sobbed.

  “My goodness.” Waters wagged his finger. “You really are weakening.”

  Jenkins wiped his eyes on his forearm and sniffed. “We’ll just threaten them, that’ll be enough.”

  “Let me kill the man,” Hernandez snarled.

  “You keep your fuckin’ mouth shut,” Macdonald intervened, pointing his thick finger at the small redhead.

  “Silence!” Waters bellowed.

  Hernandez and a quiet, intimidated Luke Beattie stood side-by-side near Waters facing Jenkins and Macdonald, as if they were about to re-enact the gunfight at the OK Corral. Waters stepped slowly towards Jenkins; he stood to the side of him, and gently placed his arms around his tense shoulders. “Brian, I know you’re upset, but there are certain aspects in everybody’s job that they don’t like.”

  “I can’t kill innocents.”

  “And you won’t. I’m not too sure about the Foley incident, but I know the Frank situation has shaken you up, which in turn has made you question the importance of what we do. Would you like to see this town turn into another cesspit? Do you want kids hanging around corners, drinking alcohol, cars getting vandalised, paedophiles and rapist being released into our communities without the people of our town being consulted?”

  Jenkins shook his head.

  “You never killed Frank, he was killed by two dogs, you never laid a finger on him. Just like you’re not going to lay a finger on the Campbells. All you did with Samson, was take him to a place where I had arranged for someone else to take care of him.”

  “But these two are innocent.”

  “They’re also a threat; this is the first time we have had to do something like this with innocents, and hopefully the last. We’ll put them into this Meriva that Mr. Hernandez was driving, put a hose to the exhaust and put them to sleep. It’ll be painless.”

  Jenkins cried, “They might keep quiet."

  Waters sighed, “They might also snitch, again, which would affect you, me. Ricky, young Luke, Aiden, Jenny and her dad, the Bennetts…even Moseley will be affected for keeping this to himself. He would be taken away from his family. I would also lose Margaret.”

  “I dunno.”

  “I don’t like this more than you.”

  Brian Jenkins looked at David's face, and he genuinely looked ashamed for what he had to do. He began to see the anxiety and stress on him.

  “If we mess up,” Waters exclaimed. He then raised his voice and addressed everyone. “If we all mess up, whether we’re in prison or out here, Gomez will have us killed like that!” Waters snapped his fingers.

  “You’re just in this because of what happened to Margaret. You never actually get your hands dirty," Aiden said.

  Waters looked at Aiden furiously; if this had been a cartoon, steam would have been coming out of his ears. Waters then looked at Jenkins. “You know what happened here five years ago, don’t you?”

  Jenkins nodded. “Your wife was attacked here; Aiden briefly mentioned it.”

  “It’s something I don’t talk about very often, but it was the seed that helped this project to grow, eventually."

  “What happened, boss?” Hernandez enquired.

  Waters lowered his head and let out a heavy sigh. He raised his head up and used his middle finger to put his glasses back in their rightful position.

  Aiden gawped at Hernandez and said, “Waters and his wife—"

  “Over five years ago, my wife and Jenny Gomez were in town after a having a few drinks,” Waters interrupted, and looked over to Macdonald as if to say, I’ll tell the story if it needs to be told.

  “I never realised they knew each other,” Hernandez spoke up.

  Waters gave the young boy a quick glance, the interruption annoyed him. “They were asked directions by two men; they were snatched and taken here to Stile Cop and the pair of them were brutally raped."

  Waters paused for a few seconds and cleared his dry throat. “Anyway, both of them ran back to Jenny’s father's house, as it was closer. Jenny's husband and myself was never contacted by the girls straight away, as they had their phones taken off them by the rapists. You could imagine what state they were in. Gomez had been a widower for years, and was always protective of Jenny, even though she had a husband. He managed to convince the hysterical women to stay in the house and immediately went up to Stile Cop in a fit of rage. The girls told him the details; he knew that it was two men; he knew the make of the car and the car registration plate. The licence plate was the one thing Jenny glared at when she was on the floor, as those animals were taking their turns on each of them.”