Chapter 4

Oliver passed his busty colleague and co-receptionist a cup of tea and then sat down at his desk, typing in his six digit code to let him onto the computer system. The girl thanked him and leant over to get a pen from his desk. "Mr Doszak is coming in today, you might want to look smart if you see him."

"Cheers," Oliver replied, and took a sip of his coffee. The tales of Jaroslav Doszak were varied and numerous but all had the same violent and uncompromising ending where the crazed Ukrainian would hit someone or fire an employee at a moment's notice. Oliver was a temporary member of staff; he could be fired in an instant and he sat straight up in his chair.

"How was ya weekend?" Charlotte asked, removing the headset and adjusting her seat.

"Good, yeah. Jamie is settling back in."

"Yeah, I meant to ask about that. Has he found owt?"

"Nah. That's bugger all jobs out there but he's only came out on Thursday. He's proper screwed but he's got shacked up again with some bird he used to knock about with so he's 'appy at the moment."

Charlotte gave a grin and then recounted her weekend in graphic and worrying detail. She got exceedingly more explicit, watching Oliver squirm with embarrassment as she told him about her three one-night stands and then the lewd activities the big girl had done in the local nightclub and her own flat.

Oliver shifted uncomfortably in the seat and listened; he would give anything to get a date with a girl, especially one as dirty as Charlotte, but never seemed to pluck up the courage to say anything. He was 23 and still a virgin and that depressed him; he wanted to be like his peers, and like his brother. Hearing Charlotte, who was younger than him, happily tell him of her dozens of sexual partners each week, and her ease of getting a date, made him yearn for female companionship even more. He felt unfulfilled.

The phone buzzed and Charlotte picked up her headset while a postman walked into the small reception, decorated in garish white PVC and chrome, and passed a small bundle of letters to the outstretched hand of Oliver.

This gave him a reason to walk around the offices, distributing letters that was normally Charlotte's job, before returning to his seat and she glanced at him. "I need a slash," she muttered and got up. "That tea's gone straight through me." She left Oliver alone in the room and he looked around the empty reception.

He nervously opened "My Computer" and then clicked on the network drives. He had seen that the security on the file system was pretty poor and guessed he was able to access every file stored on it. He clicked on the Search button and entered "plan" into the box.

The hard drive whirred away as it searched on the network drive and entries started appearing. Oliver didn't have time to check what they were and he had to just wait for the search to finish; his USB pen drive in his hand in anticipation. He heard the bathroom door open and then a gasp. "Hello Mr Doszak," Charlotte's voice drifted and a large, well built, scary gentleman entered Reception and nodded towards Oliver who politely copied Charlotte in greeting him.

He looked at his computer, his shaking hands hovering over the "X" button as the search finished; he had well over 100 files and he pushed his USB pen drive into his computer by his knees. His hands were clammy and his stomach tickled with the butterflies inside as he selected all the files and copied them to his pen drive. He wasn't used to doing things against the rules and getting away with it, and he knew Charlotte would be back at her desk any moment.

Charlotte was busy asking Mr Doszak how he was, and her brown-nosing gave Oliver precious seconds with which to complete the file transfer. In the nick of time he had the USB pen drive out of the computer and filed away in his side pocket; Jamie better be grateful.

Charlotte grinned as she sat down. "That Jaroslav Doszak is such a nice man," she muttered and Oliver shook his head.

"He wouldn't go for you," he replied with a smile and Charlotte giggled.

"I know, no guy in this place would," she moaned and looked wistfully at her colleague. "Even if there are some nice guys 'round here."

Oliver kept breaking out in cold sweats throughout the day, he was nervous as he had the USB stick in his pocket and he knew if he was searched they would find all the content. Instead he tried not to think about it but was grateful when 5pm came around and he got to leave the offices.

He wasn't expecting to see Emma waiting for him in her battered Ford Transit; he was used to walking the mile to the bus stop on the main road or scrounging a lift from Charlotte, but Emma waved at him from a car parking space she was squatting in and he walked over.

"I got it," he told her. "Well I got what I think you wanted. Plans." He held up his USB key and Emma threw the van into gear and they left the mock Georgian mansion, heading for her flat.

"Excellent," she said softly and flicked on the radio as she swung the van into the country lane and sped down the narrow road. Emma teased him when she saw the amount of data on the USB drive; he had captured the company plan, some plane landing times, someone's trip to Lapland as well as the floor plans for a refit of the double-glazing offices. The architects had helpfully included the floor plans for the manor house as well and Emma grinned; they were not incredibly detailed but they would enough for her plan her entry and her exit.

"We could really do with some keys," Emma told Oliver as she poured over the plans on the laptop. "Some keys would be pretty awesome."

Jamie looked at his brother and gave him a look. "Well can ya get them?"

"Oh yeah," Oliver muttered. "And I'll also get them to leave the safe unlocked and preferably lend us his Porsche so we can make a quick getaway."

Emma looked up and scowled. "So a 'no' then."

"Hell no. If they know I gave you door access cards they'd chop off me balls."

Jamie shrugged. "Who cares? You dain't use 'em do ya?"

Jaroslav waited as his two henchmen opened up the car boot and pulled out a restrained figure from the car. His eyes widened when he saw Jaroslav and muffled into his gag. The short-haired, brutish henchman, Mikael pushed the victim onto his knees into the mud and Jaroslav nodded towards the prostrate gentleman.

With a yelp, Mikael swung an iron bar and it hit the victim's back and he fell into the mud, hollering in agony. The two men hauled him back to a kneeling position and he looked at Jaroslav with fear etched on his dirty face; Jaroslav had not dragged him to the woods to give him a whack with an crowbar.

"You, you fuck with me," Jaroslav said firmly and glanced around the darkness; it was eerily quiet in the wood where he was dishing out the retribution the man so sorely deserved. "You think you can fuck with me and you not die?"

A gag was torn from the mouth of the man and he held out his hands in front of him, crying. "I didn't do it," he wailed. "It was Paula. She swapped 'em. I didn't know."

Jaroslav snorted and looked at the two suited men either side of him. "He think me stupid. You can't take my drugs and give me shit in return," he told him in a deep Eastern European accent. "You take piss."

"We searched his flat, boss," the younger man said. "We found no drugs, no money, nothing."

Jaroslav turned to face the young Paul and then looked at Mikael. "Did I ask him?"

"No boss," Mikael muttered and scratched the top of his head.

"No. No I fucking did not," he told the young henchman, and started waving his gun towards the 22-year-old Paul who pursed his lips together. "So shut the fuck up."

Paul nodded and Jaroslav turned back to face the crying man in front of him. "So you better tell me, where are my drugs?"

The man sniffed. "We sold them."

Jaroslav took a deep breath and took of the safety catch on his handgun, aiming it at the hapless figure. "So where is my fucking money?" He shouted with his voice echoing around the trees.

"I don't know. I thought you had it," he wailed and Jaroslav looked at him. "I gave you the bag."

"You lie," he called out and pointed towards his two henchman with the gun, making a swirling motion. Mikael and Paul glanced at either and turned to face the car; they knew what was coming.