Moses lay on his stomach, the damp undulating tarmac of the road outside M’s home, a reassuring presence. He clenched and unclenched his abs, threw back his shoulders, adjusted the lapels of his bulletproof jacket, swept his dirty blond hair out of his eyes and imagined how he must appear to Stables and Thorn the police marksmen who lay beside him under the cover of their armored police vehicle.
“I think of myself as Odysseus” whispered Moses, “fighting and defeating the Cyclops against all the odds, an indefatigable warrior on a legendary mission.”
Thorn looked up from his rifle sight and into Moses' eyes. Moses felt that his expression conveyed more than respect - perhaps even adoration.
"There's a police dog pissing on your legs" said Thorn returning his eye to the rife sight.
"Fucking little, fuck... "screamed Moses and as he did so, his head shot upwards, smashing into the top of the armored vehicle and then down, directly into a pool of dog piss.
"Awe inspiring" muttered Thorn.
In the house, M had emptied a bladder so capacious that it would have given a water buffalo an inferiority complex and was just leaving the bathroom when he caught sight of movement under one of the cars parked in front of the house. He immediately recognized it as an unmarked armored police vehicle, pulled back from the window as if he had been slapped in the face and caught sight of his face in the bathroom mirror - it was contorted into a silent scream.
“Fuck, fuck fuck,fuck” M pulled the gun out of his pocket, put the barrel in his mouth, pulled the safety off and shut his eyes. He pulled it out, looked at his face again, his watermelon head rolling about on his shoulders as if it was no longer attached and pushed the gun back in again, breaking off one of his front teeth in the process. He tried to pull the trigger but it was as if his fingers were made of sponge. He spat out the gun, threw it on the floor and staring at his anguished, tormented expression in the mirror. He screamed his first name “shit-fuck-bastard” before smashing his face into the glass.
Moses was still trying to shake the dog piss out of his ears when his radio began spewing out static laden words. It was Crown, who was the leader of his B team and had been instructed to cover the other side of M's house.
"In place sir - we have the building in lockdown."
"Excellent work Crown. Can you see any movement?"
"Nothing really sir, just a cat having a crap in the garden."
"Funny that" pondered Moses, “there's a white cat having a crap in the garden in front of us as well."
A thought buzzed around Moses head, he tried to swat it away but it was doggedly persistent. It was not a thought he liked.
"What else can you see Crown?"
Moses turned to his left to find Crown lying on the ground under a second armored response vehicle about 10 metres away.
"I can see you sir."
Moses scrambled to his feet and ensuring he trod mightily on Crown’s groin, sprinted towards the side road which led to the back garden of M’s house.
When M heard the back door open he assumed it was the police tactical response team and tore down the stairs holding the gun in front of him, fully prepared for a final deadly confrontation. He was surprised to find Daniel standing in the kitchen with a small boy who wore two pairs of glasses and a rictus grin, an elderly man who was dressed like a commando and a child who appeared to be the size of a small elephant.
M raised the gun, removed the safety and pointed it at Daniel. In response, Dorsal pointed the grenade launcher at M, Ferris raised the huge double pointed axe over his head and Chas pointed what looked like a vacuum cleaner hose pipe at M.
M was not at his best, pieces of glass hung from his shredded face where he had
smashed it into the mirror, his upper torso was covered in gore soaked
pornographic magazines which had been gaffer taped in place and blood was
running down both of his legs and pooling onto the ground around his feet.
"Hi dad, I'm home" murmured Daniel.
"Nice to meet you Mr M" chirped Ferris, his arms shaking under the tremendous
weight of the axe.
"Anyone fancy a glass of cola or some crisps?" enquired M. His left hand was developing an involuntary twitch and he knew that sooner rather than later this was going to spread to his right hand and more specifically his trigger finger. He felt faint and nauseous and yet everything in the room was pin sharp.
"Not for me thanks Mr M" said Dorsal who had aimed the grenade launcher at M's head and armed it to fire.
"Surely I can offer you a nice cup of tea and a biscuit?" M nodded towards Chas without taking his eyes off Daniel.
"Nice of you to offer but aren't you a little busy?” Asked Chas.
“Oh, its no trouble, I'll pop the kettle on then shall I?” replied M, fumbling behind himself whilst still fixed on Daniel and flicking on the plug socket, leaving a bloody fingerprint on the wall in the process. “I just need to kill my son first if you don’t mind.”
Dorsal pressed the trigger of the anti tank grenade launcher and nothing happened. He turned it round to re-read the instructions on the side when the weapon engaged and sent a fully armed grenade smashing through the kitchen window where it continued happily on its way before exploding some distant and presumably innocent subject.
Ferris tried to wield the axe at M but in his efforts to hold it above his head, his pipe cleaner thin arms dropped down and he could no longer find the strength to lift it more than an inch off the ground.
M smiled as his finger closed on the trigger until Chas smacked the vacuum cleaner hose pipe directly into his nose causing M to fling the gun across the kitchen.
There was a moment of perturbed stillness during which both men felt like they were under water and as M followed the scuttering trajectory of the gun he was surprised to see it come to rest besides a woman’s patent leather shoe.
“Leave my son alone you fat fuck pig” hissed Daniel’s mother, who had emerged from the walk in larder seconds before, with a familiar spade which was already arcing towards M’s skull.