AR’ BACK YARD

The score was set for Saturday night. Sunday, believe it or not, was always Cheetham Hill’s busiest day. And seeing as we were not dealing in cash, we’d be guaranteed they’d be fully stocked up and ready for trade that day.

We arrived at the back of the warehouse at precisely ten o’clock. All three of us were wearing Smith’s overalls, along with ski masks as we clambered out of the removal van into the cool night air. Scotty immediately went to scan the area for any signs of security, whilst Kezlo was waiting on standby with the bolt cutters.

I headed straight for the telegraph pole, hitching myself up with spiked heels that I’d fitted to the back of my boots. I’d picked the spikes up from some smack-head on the estate, he’d had robbed them from some unsuspecting British Telecom worker, high up his telegraph pole. The smack-head didn’t have a clue what he was going to do with the loot, just that it was there for the taking. I arranged for the transfer of a ten-pound bag of smack in exchange for the bag of useless goods, bar the spikes.

Bypassing the alarm in three and a half minutes, I was little off time, but hey, nobody’s perfect. Kezlo had dealt with all the locks by the time I’d descended from the pole. Scotty was still scanning the area, whistling soft signals as Kezlo and myself eased back the large, heavy, solid steel loading-bay doors. God, they weren’t half stiff. Just then, Scotty raced between the two of us into the darkened warehouse, and headed straight for the forklift truck.

He began to work out the forklift truck as Kezlo and I both scanned the warehouse for the stock, which would bring in the best returns.

‘Chopper. Check this lot ‘ere mate,’ Kezlo said immediately.

Flashing my light over to where he stood. I saw Technics stereos and turntables stacked from floor to ceiling. Trust Kezlo to find those, I thought, smiling to myself. ‘Sound mate. Carry on checking. We’ll still take all of those though.’

Just then we heard the forklift’s engine come to life. As I turned I could see Scotty beaming at me.

‘Bag of piss mate,’ he smiled as he manoeuvred the forklift truck with precision and ease. ‘Right, what’s first Chopper?’

I shone my light at the pile of Sony boxes, ‘Those boxes there.’

As Scotty swiftly and expertly manoeuvred the forklift, I returned back to the rear of the removal lorry opening the doors. Climbing up into it, I hadn’t realised just how spacious the holding area actually had been. Scotty appeared with the first stack of stereo boxes.

‘Scotty, we’ll fit shitloads in ‘ere. Tell Kezlo to pick some of the top of range Sony Trinitron TVs… no, on second thoughts, just tell him to come stand guard. You’ll know what to pick up, won’t you?’

He just smiled back at me. ‘Course mate.’ Scotty quickly disappeared back into the darkness of the warehouse. Moments later, Kezlo appeared.

He was smiling away through his ski mask. ‘This is double sweet Chopper. We’re going to make top bees off all this gear,’ he announced.

‘Bees’ as he referred to them was our term for money. It was short for two things, bumble-bee relating to the buzz you got from money obtained through these kinds of deals, and also the letter B, which quite simply stood for bucks, as in slang for dollars.

Scotty was already returning with the first consignment of gear. ‘Alright lads I’ll sort this lot out. Scotty, you just keep it coming,’ I glanced at Kezlo. ‘And Kezlo, you go have a look about, check the area is still safe.’

Both just nodded their understanding. It took just over half an hour to fully load up the back of the lorry. As I leapt back down from the lorry, Scotty was running back out of the warehouse, his smile beaming through his mask.

‘Go join Kezlo in the front. I’ll finish up ‘ere, alright mate,’ I said, easing the steel doors down.

‘Sweet mate… fuck yes… yes mate! Chopper, it feels proper good doesn’t it,’ he said running past me. ‘I’ve missed doing these jobs.’

I returned his smile, knowing exactly how he was feeling, my adrenaline was pumping too from the job we’d just pulled off. Christ! It felt really good – in fact better than good, it was fantastic.

I certainly had missed them. Easing the large steel warehouse doors back together, I then returned to check the lock on the truck once more, pulling on the lock to make sure it was secure before checking my watch, it was 10:46. Good timing I thought. Just as I began to turn, I suddenly noticed something to my right hand side move sharply… a shadow… but not mine, that was for certain… it was somebody else’s.

Just then a light snapped on, blinding me slightly.

‘Oh shit! Why on my fuckin’ shift?’

It was the security guard.

Time seemed to stand still momentarily, although immediately my mind cleared of all reasoning. Nobody was going to stop us now. Especially, I might add, some security guard on minimum wage. Without hesitation, I swiftly flipped open my butterfly knife.

His light bounced brightly off the steel blade and I briefly caught a view of his face. He looked, whiter than was normal; scared, shocked and fearing for his life. But he was also the one that stood between me, us and our haul.

I leapt straight for him with the blade aimed straight at his throat. I heard his hopeless, cry for help as he tried to back away from my forth coming attack.