Second-In-Command Read online

  Guy was okay with the weird shit they were doing there. He was getting paid big time and as long as they kept whatever they were doing in the labs he didn’t really care. He’d never asked too many questions and his loyalty had been rewarded. Those rewards included a swanky apartment in the heart of the Emerald Mile. He was actually a respected member of his block. He’d managed to create two personas for himself.

  Some of the Watchroom ‘employees’ really wound Guy up.

  Take tonight’s group for example.

  They were busy trying to woo the ever-present female element on the street. Not one of them was focusing on the task that lay before them. Their futile efforts at pulling had turned their mood sour, veering towards aggression. A couple of them groped at a young blonde who walked away. They were all drunk. They can go to Zhirkov too.

  If new or prospective gang members didn’t meet Guy’s high standards he had no problem shipping them off to the Cauldron. They were Zhirkov’s problem then.

  Standing outside the Watchroom always gave Guy an immense sense of pride, in spite of the hired goons. The large sign above its entrance was similar to an old cinema theatre. It dominated the street: thick black letters spelling out ‘The Watchroom’ for all to see. It made Guy feel powerful. Untouchable. He was a god walking amongst the masses, in plain clothing and in plain view. He didn’t need to hide; he was protected.

  That said, he couldn’t stand to be in the presence of these disease-riddled cretins any longer.

  ‘You.’ One by one he beckoned them over and sent them on their way, all of them off to nearby, secure pick-up points. They never kept anything illegal on the Watchroom premises; it was safer that way.

  ‘I’m going inside, boys.’ Guy turned to the two enormous doormen. ‘Call me if you need anything.’

  He knew the doormen wouldn’t call him. Everything ran like clockwork these days, so much so that he hadn’t even seen or spoken to the infamous boss in years. There was no need. Guy had delivered everything asked of him. Profits were higher than ever and Zhirkov was getting all the people he needed.

  Even the gangs were united and bigger and stronger than ever.

  Well, all except the Deadeyes; they’d completely vanished one night. The only indication that something had gone wrong had been a crazed call from one of the members claiming they’d been attacked by a cop and some madman. It had been dismissed as drug talk, but the fact that the entire gang had upped and left was troubling. It happened from time to time, granted, but the Deadeyes were fearsome. They wouldn’t have left.

  Which begged the question of where they went.

  ‘Excuse me, Sir.’ The shy young woman was in her early twenties, if Guy had to guess. She was just a kid and Guy was starting to feel old. He could have had her if he’d wanted, like he’d had so many others, but he just didn’t have the energy for it tonight. His mind was troubled of late.

  ‘What is it, sweetheart?’ His smile made the woman blush, or maybe it was due to her fear. Guy couldn’t tell anymore. That was one thing that he hadn’t anticipated being taken away from him: the thrill of pursuing a woman and knowing she wanted him for him and not for the gigantic reputation that preceded him everywhere.

  ‘You’re needed outside?’ She curtseyed coyly and then practically jogged away.

  ‘Interesting.’ There might be some action tonight after all.

  ‘What is it? What’s the problem?’ Guy asked the doormen.

  A burly, bald doorman pointed a thick-gloved hand at a young Chinese boy stood on the pavement.

  ‘Is this some kind of joke? What’s he want? Send him home.’ Guy turned to go back inside.

  ‘He says he has something important to show us,’ the doorman insisted.

  ‘So let him fucking show you!’ Guy was beginning to get irate. It didn’t matter that the doorman was a couple of inches taller than him; they both knew who’d win in a fight.

  ‘That’s the thing. He’s already shown me. I think you need to see this for yourself and hear what he has to say.’ The doorman looked a little flustered and played nervously with his white-collared shirt.

  ‘Fine.’ Guy strode over to the kid, who looked terrified.

  ‘Look, I’m not going to hurt you. Show me what you saw. Come now, quickly.’

  The boy didn’t hesitate. He sprinted down the street and darted into an alleyway a hundred yards on the right. Guy just about managed to keep up with the boy and he was beginning to realise where the boy was taking him.

  ‘The Casket.’ A dumping ground for gangs.

  Inside the disgusting concrete courtyard the bins flowed with undisposed rubbish. The smell was horrific and on that particular evening a handful of dead bodies on the floor added to the lurid scene. They’d been beaten bloody and somehow made the messy courtyard look even more unkempt.

  ‘What the hell?’ Guy couldn’t hide the fear from his voice. ‘Who did this?’

  The boy looked up. His big-brown eyes glistened with moisture and were red around the edges.

  ‘A green monster.’

  Guy managed to compose himself a little. The nonsense of a child helped.

  ‘Right, okay. Leave it with me. Off you go.’

  The boy ran away as fast as he could. Guy sensed his troubles amplifying for the first time in a long time.

  In that moment he couldn’t help wonder what a ten-year-old Guy would’ve thought of the crown upon his head, knowing full well that it’d been put there through violence and corruption.

  Suddenly, the burden of being Second-In-Command weighed heavy on Guy.

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