Chapter 5

No idyll ever lasts and ours was shorter than most. We were summoned back to the real world by Niall hammering on the door. "Martin, get up! Looks like we've got company!" My heart sank and a sick feeling permeated the rosy glow. I rose and dressed as quickly as I could with Angela following suit. About two minutes later we joined the twins in the lounge.

Liam gestured to us to move to the side of the room. "Our friends are a little quick off the mark," he said and gave us a humourless smile.

Niall asked, "How many?" and Liam grunted before replying.

"Just spotted another one. That makes five out here and three more we've clocked round the back. I think we can assume two or three to each side so a round dozen at a guess. Good job they're amateurs!"

"Amateurs?" My voice sounded unnaturally loud.

"Absolute bloody amateurs," said Niall, "We wouldn't have spotted pros in this cover."

He nodded towards the hedgerows that fronted the cottage and flanked the road on either side.

Angela spoke. "What are we going to do now?"

The twins laughed. "Put the fear of Christ Himself into their little black hearts!"

Niall glanced at Liam. "Everything Ready?

His brother winked and when Niall nodded, pulled a small black object out of his inside pocket. He saw my quizzical look. "Remote detonator."

He pressed a button and the peace of the Berkshire countryside was shattered by a series of loud explosions that seemed to ripple around the house. Angela grabbed me and hung on tight to my arm. It was over in seconds and before my ears had recovered from the shock, I heard men's voices, panicked and shrill. The local rooks had also been disturbed and their harsh voices added to the general cacophony.

"Right, grab your things and let's go," said Liam, " I'll take care of the dogs."

Angela and I sprinted back into the bedroom and threw our stuff into our bags. Niall had the door open and shoved us through into the waiting car. Trotsky and Magic seemed to find it all great fun and they were bouncing around in the back as Liam gunned the engine, slammed it into first and we took off like a rocket. The big four-wheel drive rolled alarmingly as we exited the gates and swung onto the road. Angela and I were thrown together in the back seat and we clung on to each other. The dogs complained loudly as they were flung into a heap. I thought I heard a gunshot.

"That should wake the bloody neighbours!" Niall grinned back at us.

"What was that stuff?" I said.

Liam laughed. "Thunderflashes, old son, all sound and fury! We keep a small stock."

Thunderflashes are military pyrotechnics, used for exercises. They make an incredible noise but aren't at all powerful.

"Scared the crap out of them!"

I smiled. "Scared the crap out of me, too."

We came to a crossroads and Liam turned right and then took an immediate left into a narrow lane. We were barrelling along at well over sixty and I found myself praying there was nothing coming the other way. We seemed to make several turns at random and the next thing I knew, we were driving into Hungerford and heading for the Motorway. To my surprise, we headed back towards to London.

"Where are we going now?"

"Plan B, old son. Confusion to our enemies. We're going to pay Mr Mickey the Mouth Cornell a little visit."

"He wasn't there then, this morning?"

"Very much doubt it. Wouldn't have been so easy. Besides, he wouldn't sully his lilywhite hands. Leaves the rough stuff to the mechanics, he's the engineer."

"Do you know where to find him?"

"Couple of phone calls was all it took. We have friends in low places."

I knew I wouldn't get any more out them so I settled back for the ride. Angela had recovered her equilibrium somewhat and she smiled at me.

"You are lucky to have such friends," she said. I nodded my wholehearted agreement.

Niall turned to us. "We're the luck ones, Miss Sable. If it wasn't for Martin, we'd be working for Securicor."

I shook my head. "Somehow I don't think so. I reckon you two could fall into a dung-heap and come up smelling of roses."

Niall gave me a withering look. "No money, no business," he said. "We both know it if you don't."

I waved a hand at him. "That's what friends are for. Not for getting your arses shot off by a bunch of bloody hoodlums."

The twins laughed uproariously. "Martin, we never knew you made a habit of this or we wouldn't have got involved!"

"Martin Booth, man of mystery! Seriously, old son, we couldn't wish for a better way to repay you. This is what we do. And we love it!"

I knew they were speaking the truth. They were loving every second of it. It was their element. I was scared shitless and they thought it was a huge game. In some ways, they reminded me of Magic. The enthusiasm,

the irresponsibility, the boundless good nature. God only knows how they stayed out of jail. Oh yes, they were on the side of the Angels, but they raised Hell in the process, wherever they went. I'd hate to be up against them.

In a little over an hour we were pulling up on a quiet street in Bedford Park. It was a typical Sunday morning scene. People washing their cars, children playing football in a small park. The sheer normality of it was hard to take in after the start to the day I'd had. I'd been seduced, surrounded and shot at. This is not your everyday occurrence for a boring tax lawyer. Niall indicated a Victorian stucco villa set back a little from the road.

"That's our man, lets go spoil his breakfast."

Niall didn't bother ringing the highly polished brass bell. He just kicked the door in. We burst into the house like Gangbusters. I was shocked to notice that the twins were each clutching 9mm Browning automatics. I hadn't known they were armed but I suppose it was logical, in their world. I tried to shut out all thoughts of what the Bar Council would do to me if any of this ever came out. Handguns are banned in Britain but ironically, easier to get hold of since they became illegal. They have become the accessory of choice for half the street gangs in the inner cities. I salved my conscience with the thought that at least Niall and Liam knew how to use them.

Mickey Cornell was in his kitchen, a stunned expression on his normally too-smooth face. He seemed rooted to the spot as we crashed in and surrounded him in a moment. Niall and Liam stood each side of his chair. They never threatened him with their weapons but made sure that he saw they were armed. I took a seat beside him and waved Angela into the chair opposite.

"Mr Smythe! Or should I say, Mr Cornell. I think it's time you made the acquaintance of Miss Angela Sable. I believe we have a lot to talk about."