Chapter 7

I worked my way to the back of the car park. There was no more gunfire coming from the tree line now, so I had to think that all the lads had run down to the car park. It would make it easier not to have two fronts to fight on.

A lad was crying and calling for his mother. I used the borrowed gun to double-tap him in the head. The weapon clicked telling me it was empty. The lad I had just dispatched had an AK47 and a quick search of his body gave me two spare mags.

I was not sure how many rounds were in the mag already in the gun. I dropped to one knee as I heard movement.

A lad was making his way toward the tree line, he was deserting his mates, wanker!

I fired at him, four rounds slammed into him, and the gun clicked out. I ejected the round and slammed a fresh mag in. I dropped the other mag to the ground; I had no spare rounds to reload it, so it was of no use to me.

I saw two lads running toward the wall that separated the car park from the beach. I gave each three rounds and they hit the ground seconds after each other. One was dead as he hit the ground the other twitched a few times. I did not waste time with him, he was of no danger to me.

I had not heard anything from Curly’s side of the car park for a few seconds. That worried me. I started to edge around the tree line.

There was little movement from the car park. I could hear the odd round being fired but I think between us we had taken out the new gang.

As I worked my way around, I did see one lad, he was huddled down, tears rolling down his face. He had a gunshot wound in his upper thigh. This was no time for compassion. I put three rounds into him. It was the right thing to do.

No gunfire came my way and that was good.

I worked my way around until I found Curly. He was dead. Blood oozed from wounds in his chest and legs. There were two of the gang close to him with knife wounds, it looked like he had gone down swinging. His SMG was close by but there was no sign of his Glock.

“Fuck, fuck, fuck!” I muttered to myself.

I did not need to check for a pulse, just one look told me he was a gonna. There was too much blood pooled around him.

I checked his weapon, it was empty, and he had no spare mags, I would come back for him later. I worked my way along the side of the carpark. I came across a dead gang member, he had two spare AK mags, I took them and worked my way around.

I saw two lads hunkered down by the beach wall. I knelt and fired. Three bursts of three and the lads dropped to the ground.

My head was whirling. The money was in one of the cars or the trucks. I could make a run for it. Burhaam the cunt that had sent men to threaten my girls was on the beach.

The trawler with its load of drugs was still beached. My throat was as dry. I kept still and listened. There was no gunfire or movement on the carpark.

No moaning, no injured men begging for help. I went over to the nearest car. I checked inside. There was nothing of interest. I popped open the boot. Again, nothing of interest.

I checked the nearest van. The cab held nothing of interest. The back of the van was empty apart from some prepacked sandwiches and a crate of Coca-Cola. it was warm but I popped a can open and emptied it in three long swigs. I let out a long burp.

I took another and popped it open. I checked the other car, it was empty. The second van was more interesting. the cab was empty but two sports bags in the back piqued my interest. I unzipped the first one and bingo it was full of cash.

I zipped it back up and checked the second bag. It was also filled with bundles of box fresh. twenties. This is what we had come for, this is what Curly had died for ... I closed the van door and at the same time saw movement, a lad with a wound to his right arm was coming toward me. A pistol in his left hand.

“Who the fuck are...”

He never finished the sentence. Three rounds slammed into his chest rocking him backwards, before he fell backwards onto the ground.

I checked the other vehicles, there was nothing of interest in any of them. As I moved around the car park I checked for any walking wounded. I found two guys who were bleeding out. I left them to die.

I found one guy with a wound in his left shoulder and a gun in his right hand. I gave him the traditional double tap to the head.

I glanced at my watch. It was nearly 0500, I was worried that locals or holidaymakers might come to the beach early. Fuck what a blood bath they would find.

I heard shouting from the beach. I swapped out the mag in the Glock.

I walked up to the wall, I was being cautious, I had my Glock in my hand, and I was ready to duck if anyone fired.

“On the car park, show yourself!” a voice shouted out.

I closed in on the wall. My eyes took in the beach. there were dead bodies all over the place. I wondered how many of those were down to Curly and how many were down to the new gang. I still had a nagging feeling in my head that the other gang had something to do with Crumble and whoever he worked for.

Three men came from behind some rocks. They were all Somalian. They were all carrying handguns.

“Who are you?” one of them, the middle one asked.

“Never you mind who I am!” I said.

“We can make a deal, we have money!” The middle guy said again.

“What is your name mate?” I asked.

“I am Burhaam, I am the biggest drug dealer in Birmingham, I can make you a rich man!”

So, he was the guy that had sent his men around to threaten my girls. He was the one who had started all of this, he was ultimately responsible for the death of Curly.

In one fluid movement, I dropped to one knee, brought up the gun, gripped it in two hands and put three rounds into the biggest drug dealer in Birmingham.

His men seemed to be glued to the spot. They watched their leader drop to his knees. His weapon fell to the sand. For a split second, I thought that there had been enough killing on that beach, but I also knew that either of these guys could head back to England’s second city and take over the gang.

I shifted my aim and took out the guy on the left as he gazed down at his dead boss.

The guy on the right dropped his gun as his mate hit the ground.

“Please...” That was the last word to leave his mouth.

Three rounds smashed into his torso.

Even before he hit the ground, I was making plans in my head. I swapped the mag out in the Glock and jumped over the wall that split the beach from the car park.