Lone Wolf - Robert Muchamore Page 0,35
that Hagar is about to make some big move against Eli’s crew but I’ve not seen any sign.’
‘Do you report to Hagar?’ Fay asked.
Warren started to laugh. ‘I’ve only ever seen Hagar like twice. I get my supplies from a guy named Steve.’
‘Steve,’ Fay said thoughtfully. ‘Is he close to Hagar?’
‘Close as anyone, I’d guess.’
Fay smiled. ‘How much do you make selling drugs?’
Warren shrugged. ‘I’m pretty small-time. A hundred, maybe two on a really good week.’
Fay nodded. ‘How would you like to earn an extra hundred a week?’
‘For what?’
‘Tell me everything you hear about Hagar and Eli and anything you hear about drugs.’
Warren liked the idea of the money, but still seemed reluctant. ‘Are you working for Eli’s crew?’
‘We’re working for ourselves,’ Fay said, sounding more friendly as she lowered the gun.
Fay grabbed a pencil and wrote a mobile phone number on one of Warren’s school books.
‘Call me any time,’ Fay said. ‘I’ll make it worth your while.’
20. CUT
Ryan had earned twenty quid for his Saturday afternoon phone-buying spree. More importantly he’d been noticed by Craig Willow, a goon who Youssef reckoned was Hagar’s chief enforcer.
For the next three nights Ryan mooched around The Hangout, but nobody came over to give him any kind of work. He was almost desperate enough to make a direct approach to one of Hagar’s people when Craig arrived and came right towards him.
‘Shoo,’ Craig said, as he waved off Abdi and Youssef. ‘Ryan innit?’
Ryan nodded.
‘I’m told you’re tasty in a dust-up.’
Ryan shrugged like it was nothing and said, ‘I don’t take shit from anyone.’
‘That’s a good motto,’ Craig said, as Ryan noticed the big Spurs cockerel tattooed on his forearm. ‘You up for a run into enemy territory?’
‘How much?’ Ryan asked.
‘Twenty-five quid.’
Ryan made a wary nod. ‘What am I doing?’
‘There’s tension between our boys and Eli’s crew over on the Elthorne estate, so I need an unfamiliar face to bring in the resupply.’
‘Drugs?’
Craig smiled. ‘What else? Go and wait outside house seventy-two. Someone will give you a package. You take it straight up to Elthorne, block seven apartment F3.’
There was a warm summer sunset as Ryan headed out of The Hangout. He waited twenty minutes before a guy he’d not seen before passed over a backpack with a slightly doom-laden, ‘Good luck.’
The pack was full, but not particularly heavy. As Ryan started to walk he guessed that there had to be at least a couple of hundred packets of drugs, and with a gram of cocaine costing at least £25, that meant he was packing five grand’s worth of merchandise.
The Elthorne estate was in Highgate, twenty minutes’ walk north. The sky was a dark purple colour as Ryan approached a graffitied map showing the layout of the dilapidated housing blocks. The first part of Ryan’s route was down a lawned expanse between blocks, then he had to turn into an alleyway with houses backing on to both sides.
A cat shot out from behind a mound of boxes, giving Ryan a fright before he made a final turn, ignoring the lift and starting up concrete stairs to the third floor. As he rounded the first-floor landing he passed two solid-looking guys, one of whom was smoking a cigarette. When he reached the second floor, he heard the two men moving quickly up the staircase behind him.
Ryan sped up, but as he tried getting up to the third floor he found a body blocking his path.
‘Excuse me, mate,’ Ryan said.
The man didn’t move. He was a monster, with sunken black eyes and arms like railway sleepers. The other two were coming up from behind, which left Ryan’s only option as a run along the balcony in front of the second-floor apartments.
He ran seventy metres, passing reinforced front doors and windows fitted with bars. At the end he found a blue door with a fire exit sign. Ryan pushed the metal bar to unlock the door, but was horrified to discover that it was jammed.
With the three men less than twenty metres away, Ryan leaned out over the balcony. He was too high up to jump, but he reckoned he could stand on the railing and reach out to pull himself up to the next floor.
His legs swung precariously as he pulled himself up and rolled over a railing on to the third-floor balcony. He reckoned that his opponents would only take half a minute to double back and reach the third floor, so Ryan looked around desperately for apartment F3.
The heavily reinforced front door was only