All of Siggerty’s dealers had been warned to be extra vigilant and to call for support if they suspected anything suspicious. Mid-afternoon Siggerty received a call from a jittery dealer; a well-known user had called, wanting another fix, despite having purchased two days’ worth of heroin earlier that morning.
Siggerty immediately contacted his support team, as he referred to them, and arranged for them to be close by when the meet happened – just in case. Having completed that task, Siggerty used his smartphone to quickly scan trades made and planned for that day. Siggerty had introduced a neat app to ostensibly keep a check on all his dealers because he didn’t trust anyone. However, he had sold the benefits of the app to the dealers by saying they wouldn’t have to keep handwritten records that could be found and read by police if they were ever arrested.
As usual for Liverpool, there were nearly a dozen deals going down at any time. His reliable, but now jittery dealer was due for the meet in forty minutes – plenty of time for the dealer and the support team to meet and plan.
* * *
Forty minutes later the jittery dealer arrived at his designated meeting place – the nondescript corner of a run-down area of Liverpool. The support team, who had arrived separately, were hiding behind the wall to a nearby alleyway between houses.
When the user arrived, the dealer smiled, relieved to see the girl was, as usual, by herself. “Think we can relax,” he muttered into a lapel mic for the benefit of the support team. “She’s alone.”
The young woman arrived and immediately held out some crumpled twenty pound notes in one hand while stretching her other hand out for the trade as though in a hurry. The dealer frowned at the uncharacteristic behaviour. “Hello love,” he started to say pleasantly. “Good to see you back so soon.”
She stared at him in a curious manner and tried to grab her drugs. “Steady on, what’s up?” The dealer realised exactly what was happening when a battered saloon car raced up and three men jumped out, leaving the driver waiting in the vehicle. “Oh shit! It’s going down!”
Even as he was speaking, the support team of six came running out from the alley. They were under orders to capture the attackers, but as the car started to race off without its passengers two of the support team opened fire. Seeing the driver jerk from the impact of their bullets, they didn’t wait to watch the car careen down the road, side-swiping parked cars along the way until it eventually crashed headlong into an oncoming car, airbags exploding into the face of the already dead driver.
As the car made its destructive, uncontrolled way down the street, a short gun battle ensued. The dealer grabbed his user’s arm and pulled her behind a parked car where the two cowered in each other’s arms.
The attackers turned and ran to the opposite side of the street seeking cover behind cars and a garden wall while the dealer’s support team spread out in search of their prey.
Bullets flew, pinging off cars and garden walls, shattering the windows of houses and cars. Terrified occupants desperately sought cover before calling the emergency services. The support team knew they wouldn’t have long to win the battle, capture at least someone and escape.
Taking a gamble, one yelled “Pincer!” and four men scampered down the street, bending low, two in each direction. The remaining two jumped up and sent a barrage of bullets towards the attackers. The four sprinted across the street and started to close in. The three attackers turned in every direction, shooting wildly in a desperate attempt to thwart the surprise defence.
One of the support group was flung backwards as two bullets thumped into his chest. An attacker was then spun before collapsing from the return fire. Not having expected resistance, the attackers’ bullets soon ran out. Faced with the approaching support team, the remaining two attackers dropped their guns and, fearing the worst, lay on the floor.
They were wrenched up off the ground as a large van drove up the street. The rear doors were flung open and another man jumped out. The two attackers were pushed forwards and forced to climb in. As they did, the new arrival swung a short, metal cosh knocking each out cold. While that was going on, two of the support team picked up the body of their fallen comrade and flung him unceremoniously into the van atop the two unconscious attackers.
The drugs dealer and his client were now struggling to their feet, looking about them in horror. “It’s all okay now,” one of the support team said approaching them. “You can both rest easy.”
“How the bloody hell are we supposed to rest easy?” exclaimed the dealer, one arm still around the woman, who was clinging to him, her pale, blood shot eyes staring wildly about.
“Like this,” came the cold reply. With that, the support team member raised his gun and shot each in the head. “Right, let’s go!” The man leaped into the van, pulled the doors shut and the van sped off.
The first responders arrived a few minutes later and wandered around aghast at what they found – it resembled a mini battle field with dead bodies strewn about. The police started taking notes, gathered in small groups to discuss events and called for as much support as they could to start clearing the mess and speak to residents.
* * *
A few minutes after the van sped off from the attack, Siggerty’s phone rang. “Yes?” Siggerty listened to a babbling, excited voice at the other end. “Well dispose of the dead one in the Mersey, as usual,” he replied, unmoved that one of his men had died. “Then take the captives somewhere safe to interrogate them – hard! You know what I want!”
At last, something to go on and report back to Burak, he thought, satisfied. Shame about the dealer, but that’s life, or not! and chuckled at his own poor humour.
* * *
Gurning called Burak back early that evening. “Burak, so sorry not to have called back earlier. What’s up?”
“Ah, well, things may have changed a little bit, but an opportunity still exists.”
“That sounds interesting, I’m all ears.” It was late in the day and Gurning wanted to go home, he wanted Demir to cut to the chase, but equally knew the man had to be encouraged if Gurning was to accomplish what he wanted. Gurning tried to focus and not let his mind wander.
“Well, if you remember, my man in Liverpool made the arrangements to increase the supply of drugs in London when Donald Norcott asked him to. That was in return for opening up the Mexican supply routes that kicked all this off.”
“Yes, I remember, and that is, we believe, why dealers are being killed now. Also, that per our previous conversation, he is on the run because he thinks the other side now knows who he is and is coming after him.”
“Exactly.” Burak was concerned that Gurning was completely on the ball; it could jeopardise his plan. “Well, today that has been confirmed. One of his Liverpool dealers was targeted.”
“Ouch! That’s not good.”
“Not at all, but this provides an opportunity for you.”
“Really? What are you thinking?”
“Well, Jim’s men captured two from the other side’s. My thinking is, that if planned well, both sides will eventually come together.”
“And you think we could be there when they do,” Gurning jumped in.
“Yes, I do. It could be a great opportunity to take both lots down at the same time – a great PR coup for you.”
The discussion continued for a further twenty minutes exploring possibilities of how this could be arranged. As Gurning expected, Burak made himself central to all options. He also made clear that being incarcerated as he was did not help his mindset for playing such a pivotal role. “Okay, I accept that you have been at that facility for longer than intended,” Gurning concluded. “I will see what can be done, but please do not get your hopes up – when you absconded, that was a game changer. Wherever you end up will not be as pleasant as the last place and you are already better off than in a normal prison!”
“Steven, I fully appreciate that. So long as it is better than here.”
Gurning sat back upon concluding the call, yawned and ran a hand through his hair. I have absolutely no idea where he can go. Blast the man!
27
When their relaxed time in Bucharest was over, it was a jolt to the system. Cezar agreed to meet them at their hotel at six o’clock in the morning to set off early, avoid the commuter traffic and arrive at their first destination in good time. During calls the previous day they had agreed the itinerary, settling on four facilities, one each at Arad, Hunedoara, Reşiţa, and Giurgiu. The four facilities had all been bought by unknown, off-shore organisations with no previous industrial experience or record of redevelopment.
