Alex felt stunned as he sat in the back room of the police station surrounded by specialist detectives. After going through a few more things with them, they had announced that the case was almost ready to go to court.
‘It seems that one of the heads of the families has had heart problems. We want him to stand trial, which will hopefully give him a heart attack,’ one detective scoffed disgustedly. ‘I want him more than the others, that Spanish shit. He trafficked girls and boys abroad. Most of them were homeless and he and his gang groomed and sold them. We haven’t found half of them and of the ones we have found, none of them will give evidence at the trial. Some are so hooked on drugs, you can hardly see their arms for the track marks. The guy is Pereira’s cousin. Did you know him?’ The detective glared at Alex. He knew full well that Alex knew him; what he really wanted to know was whether Alex had been involved in any of that.
Stern-faced, Alex looked up towards the detective. ‘You know I know Diego. But no, I wasn’t involved in his sex rackets. You know what I am. I’m just a hired killer.’
The police officers looked tired and drawn sat drinking coffee out of plastic cups. Spanish detectives had also been flown in and after dealing with things from their part of the world, they had also contacted the FBI. too.
Alex had always known the court case was coming, but now it all seemed very real and he felt suddenly nervous. His stomach somersaulted at the thought of sitting there in front of his old ‘friends’ giving evidence against them. His hands felt clammy as he reached for his coffee.
‘Are you ready for this, Alex? A lot of Pereira’s men have turned on him and agreed to give evidence. It seems like all we needed was one sure thing – you Alex – and all the others followed like sheep.’ Slapping Alex on the shoulder, another detective gave a weak smile. ‘Thanks Alex, we all appreciate it. There are a lot of civilians out there who will sleep better at night, knowing that lot are going away for a long time.’
‘What happens to me and my family after the trial? That’s if we live that long.’
‘That is entirely up to you Alex. There is still a bounty on your head and there probably always will be. We’ve given our word to keep you safe. We can move you all to another country, give you new identities, whatever you want.’
‘It’s going to crush Maggie and the kids to leave. She has grown to love that pub and the kids love the area and their schools. But the threat of death will always hang over us. And you won’t always be there to provide protection. Christ, sometimes I wish I hadn’t bothered!’
Casting a furtive glance towards each other, the officers could both see the strain it was taking on Alex. ‘We do understand. But you opted out of the programme and chose to go by your own name against our advice,’ they stressed.
Looking up at them both, Alex felt drained. ‘When I die, if I die, I want my own name on my headstone. I want any friends or family I have left to be able to find me and visit my grave. Changing my name makes no difference to those people. There are no hiding places. I am going to have to walk into that court as Joe Bloggs or Alex Silva and I choose Alex Silva. I am no coward and by walking into court with a different name, that is what I would look like.’ He banged his fist on the table to get his point across. ‘I’m fucking sick of hiding. My whole family are sick of hiding. If they want to kill me then let them get it over with. The only thing I ask of you is to look after Maggie and the kids. Keep them safe. Is that fair?’
‘You have our word on that Alex.’ The officer patted him on the shoulder. ‘You’re not having suicidal thoughts or anything are you?’
Alex looked up at him and shrugged. ‘Are you afraid for my wellbeing or yours? No mate, my aim is to stay alive. I don’t need suicidal thoughts, because someone out there is prepared to do the job for me. Fucking suicide, I ask you,’ Alex scoffed.
The other detective patted him on the shoulder. ‘For the record Alex, I don’t think you’re a coward. In fact, you’re one brave bastard facing those lot in court. They want your blood and you know it. Maybe when this is all over you will consider changing your name again and moving on – maybe to another pub, in another country eh?’ Weakly, he smiled at Alex and then at his colleague.
‘Maybe,’ Alex mumbled. ‘Let’s see if I live long enough to hear the verdicts first. What about me, will I do a stretch in prison? I presume it will be solitary confinement because prison would be the easiest way to find and kill me. I deserve what I get. But my family, well, they never hurt anyone.’ Tears brimmed on his dark lashes and fell down his cheeks, as he wiped them away with the back of his sleeve. ‘These tears are not for me or my sins. They are for my family and what happens next.’
‘Look Alex, cross that bridge when it comes to it. There is no point in thinking about it now.’
Knowing they were right, Alex nodded his head. There was no point in worrying about it until it happened.
Alex needed to think. His head was in absolute turmoil. He knew Maggie was no fool and that she knew there was a court case looming. But what did she think would happen once the court case started, and it all came out about who they really were? Would she really want to stand behind that bar while customers came in knowing who she was and what her previous life had entailed? She was enjoying her freedom while she could and he could understand that. After all, who knew what the future would bring?
21 A THIEF IN THE NIGHT
A week had passed since Alex’s visit with the police. He had updated his family about the court case being imminent and they had all seemed resigned to the fact that changes would have to be made and accepted it.
Maggie had reached out for his hand and squeezed it. ‘We’re family, Alex. It’s been a nice interlude between all the upheaval, but this place is just bricks and mortar. So let’s just enjoy things for now and wing it when we have to.’
And that was what they had done, although he felt like he hadn’t slept in ages. Every creak on the staircase had him up in the night. Some nights when Maggie was asleep, he would sit by the bedroom window staring into space. He’d even secretly put baby monitors downstairs, so that he could see and hear any movement from upstairs.
He was exhausted, permanently treading on eggshells and looking over his shoulder. And lying back on the pillow beside Maggie tonight, he finally felt himself drifting off to sleep. Suddenly, he woke with a start and sat up in the dark bedroom. Something had woken him, but he didn’t know what. Was he dreaming? Holding his breath, he waited. He could almost hear his heart thumping in his chest, in the silent darkness of the bedroom. Pulling back the duvet, he checked the baby monitor, but he could see nothing. Another noise from downstairs startled him and confirmed his suspicions. Kneeling on the bed beside Maggie, he nudged her gently. ‘Maggie, don’t jump or make a sound,’ he whispered.
‘What’s up Alex?’ she mumbled, bleary eyed.
‘There is a noise downstairs, I’m going to check it out.’
Maggie sat up, more alert now. The chink in the curtains cast a weak light into the bedroom and Maggie looked on as Alex opened the drawer in the dresser and took out his gun. Silently he opened the bedroom door and closed it behind him.
As Alex reached the top of the stairs, he decided not to step down each creaking stair. Instead, he cocked his leg over the banister and slowly and silently slid down it. Scanning the hallway, he saw no one, and checked the back door. It was still bolted which puzzled him. His ears were pricked for any noise, although at this time of the morning there seemed to be noises everywhere. As he adjusted his eyes to the darkness, he heard another noise coming from the bar. Slowly he crept towards it and smiled; he had his own surprise waiting for his assailant.
Then he heard a thud, as if a stool had fallen over and then the sound of a gunshot being fired into the darkness. Turning the handle of the door, he pushed it wide open. Swinging from above the bar was a life-sized stuffed dummy Alex had made. It was shoddy, but in the darkness it looked like a figure of a man and he knew it would startle anyone that came in. It had obviously done the trick, which is why his assailant had fired the first shot.
Standing behind the bar in the shadows, was a lone figure. Alex squinted to see him, and instantly on hearing him, the man turned and fired his gun towards the doorway, missing Alex by inches. Alex cocked his own gun and fired quickly twice towards the figure who cried out in pain and fell to the ground. Fumbling in the darkness, Alex knelt down beside the man. ‘Who sent you?’ he asked.
From behind him, Alex heard a sound and another bullet whistled past his ear. Quickly he ducked for cover.
‘Everyone has a stooge Alex,’ the husky Spanish voice whispered from the darkness behind Alex. ‘The man you’ve just shot was mine and that stuffed Guy Fawkes you have made was yours. Pathetic really. Why don’t you finish him off? He’s nothing to me.’
Recognising the voice from his past, Alex’s blood turned cold. It belonged to a man Alex had worked with many times and who he knew was a crack shot: Jacob. Still with his back to him, Alex stood. ‘Well, why don’t you shoot me as you have been paid to do, Jacob? What’s taking you so long?’ Jacob was a professional hitman, like himself, so he couldn’t understand his hesitance.
‘Because it’s been a long time and the boss doesn’t want it over with so easily. He wants to make you suffer first. So, my predicament is, do I tie you up and let you watch me murder all of your family, while you are helpless to do anything to save them? Or do I bring them all down and let them watch their beloved Alex die in front of them? What would you do?’ Jacob sniggered.
Turning slowly, Alex blinked hard, and focused on his other senses which seemed to sharpen more in the darkness. He thought about firing the gun in his hand, but knew Jacob would fire too, which would mean both of them would possibly die or be wounded which would leave the other man on the floor to possibly finish the job. That was if he wasn’t dead already. But Alex could still hear him moaning, which meant he still had the opportunity to murder his family.
‘I would kill me outright Jacob, then your job is done. I’d also finish this guy off – no witnesses, remember? That’s how we were taught in the good old days. What you do when I am dead is your business, Jacob. I have no power over that.’ Raising his gun quickly, while Jacob was off guard, Alex fired. As the shot rang out he heard Jacob cry out and then stumble, smashing glasses as he fell. Instinctively, he knew he hadn’t finished him off. Mentally, Alex decided enough was enough and walked towards the lights, switching them on. If he was going to die tonight, he wanted to look his murderer in the eye.
Two more shots fired instantaneously, informing Alex of what he already guessed. Jacob was not dead. Injured maybe, but not dead. Dropping to his knees at the other side of the bar, Alex put his arms over his head, covering himself from the shattered glass raining down on him. Quickly, Alex fired his gun again in Jacob’s direction and ducked, but then he heard someone else in the room as they trod on the broken glass. Then he saw Deana standing with a rifle pointed directly at Jacob’s head. ‘Go on you bastard, fire. But remember, you’re next.’ Jacob’s hand was covered in blood, making it slippery as he held his gun. By the looks of it, Alex’s shot had gone through the other man’s shoulder or arm. Standing up, Alex saw him grasp his gun with the other hand, but Alex fired three more shots, one after the other with a final lone bullet fired into Jacob’s forehead as he keeled over.
Wiping his sweaty, bloody brow, Alex nodded his head towards his daughter. ‘Thanks Deana. Shit, no wonder my bullet never killed him.’ He pointed to the bullet-proof vest Jacob had been wearing under his coat. From nowhere, another shot fired. Alex had momentarily forgotten about the other man lying on the floor, and this time his bullet hit Alex in the shoulder blade, making him slump to his knees.
‘Dad!’ Deana shouted, and swiftly turned, firing her rifle and killing the other man instantly.
Sweat poured from Alex’s brow as he groaned in pain and blood ran down his neck and arm. Only adrenalin was keeping him conscious. ‘See if there’s anyone else Deana,’ he panted, while still on his knees. He ripped at his T-shirt to assess the damage. ‘Has the bullet gone through?’
‘You need a doctor, Dad. We need to get you to the hospital,’ Deana rambled as tears rolled down her cheeks.
‘No Deana. If I die, I die. Now go and see if the others are safe.’
‘Me and Mum are fine. We’ve checked too, and the coast is clear.’ Dante spoke in a calm voice, making Deana look up in surprise and relief to see him.
Maggie ran forward and knelt beside Alex and used her dressing gown and anything near to hand to try and stop his blood flow. After close inspection, Maggie nodded. ‘I can see the head of the bullet. It must have chipped the bone.’ Maggie looked into Alex’s half-conscious eyes and saw him nod as he passed out.
‘I’ve got some sterile lint bandage in the bathroom.’ Trying to compose herself, Maggie stood up. She was soaked in blood; her face was smeared with it where she had brushed her blonde hair away from her face. She was distraught and wanted to cry, but she knew she had to be strong. Not only for Alex, but for her children. The three of them worked silently – all that mattered now was saving Alex.
‘Can’t we call the police and tell them we’ve been found and that they shot Dad?’
‘What? With two dead bodies on the floor and you with a rifle?’ Dante replied. ‘For fuck’s sake, Deana, get a grip. I know you’re not thinking straight, but look around you.’
A weak smile crossed Deana’s red, tear-stained face. ‘Well, thank God you are, Dante.’
Maggie returned. ‘Here’s the bandages, and I’ve brought the pliers. We need to pull the head of the bullet out.’
Grimacing, Deana nodded.
