Jakes Dilemma ( Part 11)

“Jake!”

Squashed nose shouted.

“You’ve forgotten something!”

Jake was still in a state of shock about old Mr Miller and was just standing there staring at the exit to the railway arch. Squashed nose’s shout made him snap out of it. He turned round.

“What have I forgotten?”

Squashed Nose laughed.

“How you gonna shoot the Russian without a fucking gun?”

Squashed Nose pulled the Glock 19 out of his pocket and gave it to Jake. Jake took it and tucked it into his jacket pocket.

Squashed Nose held Jake firmly by the shoulders.

“It, s loaded and ready to go, don’t forget what we told you Jake, just point it at him and keep firing, that all you need to do, we’ll do the rest, now go to work and don’t fuck up!”

Jake turned and left the arches.

He kept thinking that if all goes well, in a few hours this nightmare will be over.

Thirty minutes later he was inside the warehouse by his machine. He’d changed into his overalls. He was always complaining that they were too big for him but tonight he was pleased they were, the Glock fitted perfectly under them without being seen. Stevie was there. He came over.

“Evening Jake, looking forward to a few hours’ work for loads of money?”

Jake smiled.

“Can’t wait, is everyone here?”

“Yep, saw old Mr Miller turn up a few minutes ago, the metal’s next door at the smelt, Group 4 are with it, we should get our work in about an hour”

“Any sign of the Russian guy yet?”

“Not yet, don’t suppose he’ll be here until we start our bit, Piss Head is here but reckons he’s got the shits, he’s been in and out of the bogs for the past half hour!”

They both laughed, then walked over to the coffee machine to get something to drink. The next hour passed slowly there wasn’t much to do until they got their metal to work on, Stevie went off to prepare his machine and Jake did the same, it was tedious work but necessary. The machine had to be greased and oiled before it was switched on and it was the operator’s responsibility to ensure that it didn’t break down whilst in operation.

At ten forty five, Jake switched it on ready for his work to begin. The metal arrived and he had to make sure that a small block of silver looked like a door handle by the time it left his machine. He checked his watch every thirty seconds, it was now ten fifty. A small group of men walked into the warehouse, three of them stood beside the entrances and the smallest of them walked into Mr Miller’s office. Jake was sure that this was the man “The Russian”.

At exactly ten fifty five Mr Miller came out of his office with the small guy and started to walk towards Jake. They stopped on the way and Mr Miller was waving his arms around obviously trying to impress the Russian with his story of how he begun the business many years ago. The Russian just smiled. Two minutes later they were once again on their way to Jake. Jake could feel the sweat running down his face, he also realised that his hands were shaking; he felt ill but knew he had to carry on. The pair arrived at Jakes machine at exactly ten fifty eight!

“This is Jake; he runs the Moulding machine, Jakes only been with us for a few months but is extremely skilled at his work”

Jake tried to smile at Mr Miller but as hard as he tried his expression looked more like he was constipated.

The Russian said nothing and went to move on.

Jake couldn’t let him go.

Ten fifty nine.

“Excuse me Sir, what room are the handles for?”

The Russian turned round and faced Jake. Mr Miller looked annoyed; he hadn’t expected anyone to actually talk to the Russian.

“Why do you ask boy?”

Ten fifty nine and twenty seconds.

The Russian looked surprised.

“Just wondered, are they for a bathroom or bedroom?”

Ten fifty nine and thirty seconds.

“All rooms, I want quality in all of my rooms!”

Ten fifty five and forty seconds.

“I understand Sir; it’s nice to have nice things”

Ten fifty nine and fifty seconds. Jake thought he heard a noise outside in the yard.

The Russian turned to walk away. Jake pulled the Glock from underneath his overalls, he pointed it at the Russians back, he fired, once, twice, three times. The Russian fell to the floor, Jake kept firing until he felt a sharp burning pain in his shoulder, he dropped the gun, he could sense himself falling. Then nothing.