Taking Out the Trash II
by Zak
Copyright© 2025 by Zak
We were sitting on a side road. The car we were in was stolen and had false plates. The other lad in the car was called Billy Bones; he was a medic, and I had worked with him several times in the sandpit and in Serbia. Why Serbia, don’t ask. He had been in the SAS for five years and was considered a safe pair of hands.
There was a mobile phone on the dashboard, and we both had earpieces that linked us by radio to the rest of the team. We also had Glocks tucked down the side of our seats. We also had a pair of Beretta 9000s tucked under the rear car mats. The Beretta was a popular weapon among the gangsters and drug dealers of the UK.
They had been taken off some drug dealers in London a few weeks earlier. We had cleaned them and test-fired them. We had some other bits and bobs in the boot of the car.
We had been sitting there for two hours. The other team members were on the plot; there were two on motorbikes, one lad in a delivery van and another in a British School of Motoring learner’s car.
“Fancy a Coffee mate?” Billy asked.
“Sounds good, mate!” I said I was at the wheel, so he was okay to go for a walk. As he left the car, I heard the spotters checking in; there was no sign of the Tangoes.
It had only been six weeks since the Boss had pulled me out of a training session in the killing house. I had walked over to his office with one of the regiment’s sergeant majors.
Three thoughts were going around in my head. One, there was bad news about the girls; I had not seen them for two or three days, as I had been stopping at the barracks while training some new lads. Two, curly had died when the girls’ lives had been threatened, and perhaps that little episode has come back to haunt me.
Three ... Crumbles killing. That was also there to haunt me.
The Boss had a new secretary, and she offered us coffee, telling us both to go straight in. The Boss was with two men in suits, as well as Billy Bones.
The Boss had introduced the suited men as Tom and Jerry, then he and the sergeant were asked to leave the room. They did not tell us who they worked for or their real names, and we were both old enough and ugly enough not to ask.
We were told we had been selected for a job, and we had the option to accept or decline it. That rang an alarm bell from the start.
They informed us that we would be briefed on the matter and reminded us that we had signed the Official Secrets Act. There was a knock at the door, and the guy who called himself Tom shouted out.
“Come in,”
An orderly came in with the Boss’s new secretary. He was carrying two flasks of coffee, and she was carrying a tray with mugs and a plate of penguin biscuits. Once the door was closed behind the secretary and the orderly, they got down to business.
“Lads, help yourself to coffee and we will start he film show!” said the one called Jerry.
We got mugs of coffee, and I took two penguins. We all sat down in front of the Boss’s big screen. The film started, and it showed a fight in an airport. Four cops were trying to arrest an Asian guy, and he got all tense and then a fight started. One of the cops got slammed into a wall, and he went down like a sack of spuds.
Another guy turned in the cops, and all hell let loose. I saw a female cop get decked. One male officer was doing his best to arrest the first man, but the other man was laying into the two female officers. The attack was violent, one-sided and not needed.
One of the assailants head-butted a female officer and followed it up with three or four punches.
The video was not new to me; I had seen it when the news report had first been shown on Sky News. Billy and I looked at each other, and I knew that we would love to spend some time with those two lads.
I felt sorry for the male cop, who was still on his feet, trying to take down the two men. The male cop who had been hammered into the wall was still out for the count, one of the female cops was on the floor and out of the game, and the other was flailing around like mad.
What really annoyed me was the number of people watching the attack, filming it rather than helping the cops.
The fight only stopped when four more police officers and some airport security personnel arrived.
The film stopped...
Tom stood up.
“So, these two lads got on the right side of the court, they got off with making the cops look like fools,” he said and shook his head in dismay.
“But we can do something about it, if you two are game?” Jerry said.
The film started up again, it was the two Asian lads. Some time together and sometimes apart. They were going about their daily lives, attending the mosque, and shopping. One of the lads worked in an office, the other was a taxi driver.
“So, we have a group of watchers in their tails,” Tom said.
“So, are you with 5 or 6?” I asked.
“Neither, and does it matter?” Jerry said, looking over at his mate.
I looked at Billy, and we both smiled at each other. We both knew that the Government had shadowy departments that did wet work, as it was known. They were they to take out anyone who messed with HMG.
“We need to take them out, but without making it obvious that the government had a hand in it!” Said Jerry.
“So, you want us to take them out?” Billy said and looked at me. I gave him a nod. I was more than happy to fuck those two guys up.
“I think you know the answer to that?” Jerry said.
“I think we do, do what is the plan!” I asked.
The following four hours were spent discussing the plan. The two Asian lads were being groomed by a member of Tom and Jerry’s team. They were being fed a line to make pro Asian videos. The groomer had told the lads that she was a journalist and would like to create videos first, followed by some articles. She was saying they had to keep it in the downlow.
Once a plan was decided upon, Tom and Jerry left us. The Boss came in and smiled at us.
“So, if you guys need anything, just ask!”
The first part of the plan was to make it appear that we were out of the country. We went down to the canteen for food. As we lined up, we talked about heading out to the sandpit. Billie got sausage, egg, chips and beans. I got the same and added some bread and butter. Then we both got mugs of tea.
We sat near some lads who had recently passed selection. We didn’t keep our voices down as we chatted about our mission in the sandpit. We talked about brushing up on our sniping skills.
After we had eaten, we headed over to the Quarter Master’s stores. We both got all the gear we needed for a few weeks of operations. We also got sniper rifles, as well as Glocks, M16’S and gun carriers.
That evening, we met for a beer in the mess. Again, we ensured that people had the opportunity to hear us discuss the mission in the sandpit.
After breakfast, we got our kit together and walked over to the helipad. We flew to Brize Norton and boarded a Globemaster transporter. It was full of paras, and we made sure that they also knew what we were up to.
We refuelled in Italy, and before the Globemaster headed off, we slipped away and headed across the tarmac. We then got into a Shadow R1 jet that took us to an RAF base in Scotland. We overnighted there and then were picked up by Tom. He was driving a Land Rover, and he took us to an SAS training camp tucked away in the highlands.
Another driver took all our kit in a small van; Tom told us it would be shipped down to London and stored in a secure location.
Once we arrived at the SAS training camp, we sat down and had another briefing with Tom and Jerry. They assured us that our DNA and fingerprints had been removed from all government databases. We were no untraceable...
We were given our weapons, we cleaned them, and test-fired them. The Glocks were fine, but the Berettas both had seen better days. We made sure they were in good working order.
The camp was deserted, apart from Tom and Jerry, Billy, and some SAS personnel running the security at the camp. We had free rein of the kitchen, so that was a bonus.
We saw more videos of the Asian lads. They both had the first name of Mohammed, but they went by their second names. Amazza and Anwara. But for us, they were Tango One and Tango Two, with Amazza being Tango One. He had been the most violent when attacking the female police officers.
We were told more about the plan and the plot for the take-down as decided upon.
The door opening broke my train of thought. Billy had two takeaway coffees and a bag of assorted chocolate bars. I took my coffee from him and dipped my hand into the bag, coming out with a boost.
The radio burst into life,
“Tangoes, still no movement!”
They were both in Tango One’s house. They had not moved for three hours.
After three days of meetings and testing firing on the range, Billy and I were given a car. We checked the gear in the boot; it was meant to muddy the waters when the bodies were found.
We had driven the car down to Birmingham and spent three nights in a hotel in the city centre. The lads were from Coventry; we went over and got the lay of the land. We also drove the route to the plot a few times as well. Tom and Jerry’s team had found a good plot for the ambush; it was between Coventry and Ruby.
They had a team of watchers on the two Tangoes. Monitoring their every move.
We had driven the route six times over the last few days. Then the phone rang, and we were told to be ready the next day. The lads had taken the bait...
We had breakfast early and then checked out of the hotel, heading to Coventry. So, there we were waiting for Tom and Jerry to give us the order to get going.
We drank the coffee and chatted about sports; we both liked rugby and cricket.
The radio crackled into life.
“Both tangoes are leaving their house.”
Seconds later, it crackled again.
“Both tangoes are in a silver Nissan Juke!”
The watching team would be top drawer; they would keep an eye on the car, not getting too close, and we listened as the watchers followed the tangoes. They swapped positions and made sure they didn’t show out.
The mobile phone rang and Billie answered it. He said yes three times and hung up.
“It was Tom asking if we were ready to go.” He said and sipped his coffee.
“Are we ready to go?” He asked after a few seconds.
“Born ready, mate!” I smiled and we bumped fists.
I took another bar of chocolate from the bag. The waiting around was a killer.
The radio came to life again.
“They are stopping, “one of the watchers said, “they are going into a coffee shop, the address is 62 Southam Road, that’s 62 Southam Road”
Minutes later, the watchers were back on the radio.
“Both Tangoes are coming back to the car, with two more IC6 males. Tango 4 is a tall, clean-shaven man dressed in Western clothing. Tango 3 is a smaller man with a beard, wearing traditional clothing.
I heard Tom on the radio.
“Can we get pictures, please, guys?”
“Just uploading them now, boss,” a new voice said.
There was nothing said for five minutes.
“All four tangoes in the car and heading east on Daventry Road,”
“Keep with them, guys, “I heard Tom say.
We heard the watchers as they kept up a commentary on the car journey.
“We had IDs for the two new tangoes, Tango 4 is the solicitor. Tango 3 is a well-known IS activist.” A voice said, I got the feeling it was Jerry.
Billie and I looked at each other, two lads who had beaten cops now had an IS bloke with them.
It was obvious that the car’s driver was engaging in anti-surveillance manoeuvres.
The watchers we had were on top of their game, and they didn’t lose the target car.
We listened and drank our coffee. This waiting game was a real killer. The mobile rang, I pressed the answer button, and it was on speaker.
“Right lads, four tangoes in the car and they are all valid targets!” Tom said.
“So, you are saying we have the green light to take them all out?” Billie asked.
“You have the green light to take them all out!” Tom repeated.
Tom hung up It was time to go to work. Billie reached around and fished the Berettas from under the rear mats. We each had two spare mags; they shouldn’t be needed, but we had them anyway. Each mag held ten 9mm rounds.
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