The Savage Moor by Robert Fael

Author:Robert Fael
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: Robert Fael
Published: 2023-06-30T00:00:00+00:00

Chapter 14

Darnell Brown had been given his very English name by his very English mother who had unsuccessfully been trying to distract attention from his not so English skin color. Most people would guess he had some hispanic or latino blood but his mother was popular with a lot of foreign sailors from around the Bristol docks, so nobody knew for sure.

Brown didn’t get a lot of parental care, and learned to look after himself early. He grew up street smart, and tough. Gang culture gave him a sense of belonging, and he soon gained a reputation for doing what was asked of him without making a fuss. Most of the time he did it quietly but if a gruesome warning needed to be delivered, he could do that too. His rise through the ranks of the Sackmmen had been steady, and he was now in the ideal position to step into the vacancy left by the death of Falco.

As long as he could sort out the current shitstorm.

The phone conversation with Big E had not been pleasant. It was the first time Brown had actually been glad to be in Minehead because his boss was in Bristol, not in his face.

The rant eventually boiled down to two things. First, ‘where da fuck my coke?’ Second, ‘who da fuck hit my boys’. The order of the two questions was telling. Foot soldiers were easy to replace, and cost nothing. A kilo of coke was not only an expensive loss but it might draw unwanted attention, and risk revealing the bigger operation. There was a hell of a lot more money tied up in the cocaine hidden in the bunker, and that was just the first of a series of shipments planned. With Falco out of the picture Brown’s future, and quite possibly his life, depended on him making sure that the Exmoor end of the business went as smoothly as it was supposed to.

The first task was to move the forty kilos of coke from the bunker before it was discovered. Brown had been out there that afternoon. Not right up close, but close enough that with a pair of binoculars he could see a cop in a 4x4 keeping an eye on the place. He could also see that the doors were still padlocked. If the pigs had got inside, or knew what was hiding in there, they would have been crawling all over the place. So everything suggested that the coke was untouched. Brown couldn’t figure why they hadn’t just taken some bolt cutters to the steel shackles, but he would find that out soon enough.

He was sat in his Range Rover at the end of Church Lane for that very reason. Waiting for that piece of shit Police Constable Ollie Forster. The normally cool and calculating Brown would like to have shot the fucker in the face. Forster was a fat, sweaty, racist. Brown suspected he was a kiddie fiddler too. For the moment the bent cop was safe because of the inside info he provided the Big E.

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