Chapter 40

"Well boys" Saim says lying back in the leather reclining chair.

"You may not be the obvious choice for bodyguards but at least you can do as instructed. You did good"

The four newly appointed henchmen, standing in front of their boss smiling, felt pleased that he was satisfied with their work. Their initiation test complete, they were now trusted members of the outfit.

"Now you are family" Saim states "You need to look like family"

Hassan, the leader of the four, stares at the others clothes then back to Saim.

"What do you mean boss?"

"The clothes make the man and tatty old trousers won't cut it. If you are going to be by my side then you will be representing me. When we are finished here, you will all go and get fitted for suits and shoes"

Handing Hassan a bundle of notes Saim continues.

"Last night's little payback was, hopefully, a one off eye for an eye. They took our shipment but we went a stage further, one of their labs. This could go two ways. One, they could decide the truce is over and bring on a full-scale assault. Two, they could take it as a counter attack and leave it at that. If they know what's good for them, and us, it will be the latter. Either way, I want everyone more vigilant than ever. In addition, we need to up the other incomes just in case they hit our merchandise shipments again. If I lose money from one, it needs replacing by another. Start with the girls we need more on the books"

"Yes Boss, whatever the outcome we will be ready for these idiots" Hassan smirks

"Do not be complacent Hassan. Idiots are the one thing they are not," Saim shouts

"Yes of course, sorry Boss" Hassan recoils, dipping his head at his first scorning.

"Why do you think we have had a truce for all these years? We could wipe each other out and we both know it. It would be a long hard battle and I don't fancy, nor, could I afford that"

Saim had started his firm over ten years ago. After a few years, it had grown sufficient in size and profit for the Stratford boss Pat D, or paddy, as he is known, to take an interest. Receiving a polite notice to meet and discuss business, Saim had agreed on a time and place. Eleven in the morning at Plashet Park in East Ham, Saim, sitting on a bench, watches the man walking with a purpose towards him. With six suited men walking behind him, looking like American Secret Service agents, it was obvious to him that it was Pat. Standing around six foot three tall, with broad shoulders to match, it was easy to see the suit he was modelling as if on the catwalk, was definitely not a cheap off the hanger type. The immaculate pin striped three-piece suit was tailor made for every contour of his frame. His shoes, shined to perfection, made him think that Pat, as was he, must have been ex-military. His hair was, along with his moustache, perfectly groomed and shaped. This man had been in the game for many years, had made a lot of money, and just by his presence demanded respect.

Saim had not come to this meeting blind. He had done his homework and checked on Pat's reputation. Starting from nothing, he had worked his way up through the ranks of the family. The youngest of three brothers, he needed to prove to his father that, rather than his siblings, he was more capable of leading the empire he had built up. In the shadow of his brothers and tasked with all the menial jobs, he completed every one with ease and without complaint.

One day, out of the blue, he was called into his father's office and told that he was now number one son and heir. His father explained that the continuing drug war with the neighbouring crew from North London had robbed him of his brothers. Driving to negotiate a new deal, somebody had placed a device under their van. The explosion was such a force that the merchandise, along with his two brothers, had just disintegrated.

Pat took this as an opportunity to show to his father his loyalty and worth. Over the following year with revenge as a motive, he wiped out the whole of the North London crew, had taken control of their business, and tripled the families' income. By the time of his father's death, Pat had control of all four compass points of London. His firm but fair attitude preceded him.