On the Attack by Kerry J Donovan

Author:Kerry J Donovan [Donovan, Kerry J]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: Human Vertex (France)
Published: 2018-03-03T22:00:00+00:00

Chapter 20

Sunday 29th November—Timothy

Ocean Village, Southampton

Timothy stood over the snivelling piece of white trash. The blubbing, whining runt he’d served for the best part of five years.

He was going to kill Teddy Tedesco. How good did it feel to call the man ‘Teddy’?

As for the captain, Timothy didn’t feel any real animosity towards him. Nor did he care too much about what happened to Randy and Chukka, but if the news got out, the men would turn on Teddy and Timothy both. And how long would it be before Teddy took him out and maybe Ginger, too?

No, he couldn’t afford to wait for the inevitable. He’d survived the lunatic Tedescos long enough.

Teddy, the snivelling arsehole in the posh leather chair and the fancy white Egyptian cotton shirt, had cash money at hand and Timothy wanted it.

He’d given five years of his life to Teddy. Five years of bowing and scraping and for what? To be treated like an errand boy, a kaffir, the same way the whites back home treated him. Enough was enough. The white boss man would die here, today.

“What do you say, Timothy?” Teddy pleaded, snivelling like a baby. “Half a million pounds would buy you a new life anywhere in the world. Anywhere. What do you say?”

Timothy thought about it. Five hundred grand—nearly ten million rand. With that much, he could live like a king in Durban in a high-rise looking over the Indian Ocean. Wonderful.

“There’s two hundred thou in the safe, you say?”

Teddy blinked and lowered his hands a fraction, his breathing slowed a little. He could see a way out. He could see a tomorrow, but he was going to be disappointed.

“Yeah, yeah. It’s all there, I promise.”

“And the rest? The other three hundred?”

Timothy lowered the Glock a little and aimed it at Teddy’s belly. If he made a sudden move, Timothy would gut-shoot him. The bastard wouldn’t die right away. He’d live long enough to disclose the combination but wouldn’t be a further threat.

“T-The rest is downstairs, in Mother’s pantry. It’s my exit money. Take me there and it’s yours. All of it, I promise, but please don’t shoot.”

Teddy winced. What little colour he had in his face drained away. Sweat popped out on his forehead and ran down the sides of his face, and he started shaking. The onset of shock. He’d be puking his guts up any moment.

Timothy raised the gun again and pointed it at Teddy’s left eye, holding it rock steady.

Teddy’s face crumpled. “P-Please, I’m begging you. Take the money and let me live.” Tears mixed with the sweat and rolled down his flabby white cheeks. His chin dimpled, and he whined. “Please don’t.”

“Open the safe,” Timothy said, stepping to one side to cover both the door and Tedesco more easily, “but do it real careful, man. Any tricks and you die.”

Teddy took a while to lever his fat white butt out of his posh chair. He staggered, nearly fell, but righted himself and leaned a hand against the bookcase until his breathing steadied.

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