The Choice. Kerry Barnes

eyes widened. She had never seen so much money. ‘Oh, we couldn’t possibly. That’s so much.’

      Lance then kissed Poppy’s cheek, which made her blush. ‘Poppy, spend it on what you like, but just make sure you two stay together and with the lads. Never go off on your own.’

      Both girls nodded, each wanting to know more, but they knew that this was not the right time or place.

      * * *

      As the youngsters said their final goodbyes, the man in the dark hoodie watched from a distance and made a call. He turned his face away so that Willie couldn’t see him. He whispered down the phone, ‘The flight leaves in one hour.’ He reeled off the flight number and then ended the call. He took one last look to make sure they were definitely going to check in, and then, as he watched Arty hand over his passport, he scurried away. His job was done.

       Chapter 3

      Neil and Shamus left Zara alone in the office with Mike while they made coffee in the kitchen. It still fascinated Shamus as to how Zara could bear to be in this house. Putting aside the fact that it was her childhood home, it still became her prison for five years. His eyes shot to the floor on the far right, and he wondered if that was the actual entrance to the room downstairs where her brother held her captive. Just as Neil poured the last cup, Shamus had a thought.

      Without helping Neil, he went back to the office. ‘Zara, your brother. Wouldn’t he know about Barak?’

      Zara looked up and frowned. ‘Ismail is a sap. He would know fuck all. Barak wouldn’t trust him with any sort of significant information. I spent five years listening to him being ridiculed by Guy and his son Benjamin. Nah, he wouldn’t know a thing.’ She stared at Shamus, her mind going over something.

      ‘What, Zara, what are yer thinking?’ asked Shamus.

      She turned to Mike. ‘Guy and Benjamin are inside. They won’t let me visit them, that’s a dead cert. But there are other ways to get blood out of a stone.’

      Mike grinned devilishly. ‘Yeah, some of me oldest pals in Brixton Prison specialize in that. I’ll make a call to Boomer.’

      Zara looked back at Shamus and winked. ‘One way or another, I’ll need to find out what they’re up to.’

      Mike scrolled down his phone, looking for Boomer’s number. The man was inside for a multitude of crimes and wasn’t getting out anytime soon. He’d been inside for years and had everything he needed, including his own phone.

      ‘Boomer, it’s me, Mikey Regan. How ya doing, mate?’

      The deep, gruff voice replied, ‘Not as good as you, ya lucky fucker, getting out on parole.’ He laughed. ‘Really, mate, I’m as sweet as a nut, and you?’

      Mike’s face lit up. He liked Boomer. The nickname was given to him because when he re-enacted a fight, along with the air punches, he would also make the sounds. The loudest and most common one was ‘Boom!’

      ‘I need a favour, mate.’

      ‘Well, spit it out, Mikey boy. I’m a very busy man, as ya know.’

      Mike laughed. ‘Guy Segal, the old Jew, and his son Benjamin. I need some information out of those bastards. I wanna know if Guy’s brother Barak Segal is alive or dead, and what his plans are. I also need to know if the man is in the country.’

      ‘Right, mate, I think I know who you mean, but tell me more.’

      Mike went over the past, making sure that Boomer knew everything, including the circumstances leading to Benjamin Segal cutting off Zara’s hand and how he and Guy had kept her a prisoner for five years.

      ‘So, are ya up for it, Boomer?’

      ‘For sure. No worries, lad. I’ll have that info for ya. Call me in a couple of hours. I don’t wanna waste me minutes. Oh, and do us a favour, will ya? Me ol’ girl needs some dosh. Could ya whack her over a couple of hundred?’

      ‘I’ll pop over five grand. How’s that suit, bud?’

      The thick, gruff voice seemed to soften, and Mike detected an emotional tone. ‘Aah, Mikey, you are a real gent, ya know that? Call me later and give my regards to ya father. The man saw me missus all right for me. He’s a good ’un is ol’ Arthur.’

      ‘Cheers, Boomer. I’ll bell ya later. Watch yaself.’

      * * *

      Trenton Smith leaned against the metal doorframe, rolling his last lot of tobacco. ‘All right, Boomer? Any chance of a baccy loan? I’m clean out, mate,’ he asked, as he peered into Boomer’s cell.

      Boomer grinned and nodded. Trenton knew then that there was something evil on the man’s mind. He straightened up, and for a second, he wished he hadn’t asked. Boomer was a man in his sixties but had more standing in prison than anyone else. He ran the wing, had the screws eating out of his hand, and was the only man who could sleep without his door wedged tight. Any drugs – even tobacco or hooch – going around the prison were generally dealt with through Boomer. Anyone looking at the two of them would never have thought that little Boomer was more reckless and tougher than Trenton. However, as much as Trenton was a tall, muscular man, with quick movements, no one was as fast as Boomer.

      ‘Go on, Boomer, let’s ’ave it, then. What ya got on ya mind?’

      Boomer stood up and beckoned Trenton in. ‘Close the door.’

      As Trenton did as he was told, Boomer offered him a seat on the bunk.

      ‘There are two geezers in here, Benjamin Segal and his ol’ man Guy Segal. Two Jewish men. I need information from them. They may squeal like pigs, or they may need a little coaxing.’

      Trenton nodded. ‘I know who you mean. That Benjamin is the fat, ugly ginger fella that follows his ol’ man around like a lost lamb.’

      ‘Yeah, that’s him. So, are you up for getting me what I want?’ asked Boomer, with a raised eyebrow.

      Trenton took a deep breath. ‘Got any puff to go with that baccy?’

      ‘Crafty fucker, you. Yeah, go on, then.’ Boomer laughed as he pulled two pouches from under his mattress. ‘Take them. And listen. Those Segals are cruel bastards. They cut off the hand of Mikey Regan’s bird and kept her captive for five years.’

      Trenton’s eyes nearly popped out of his head. ‘You’re joking, ain’t ya?’

      Boomer dramatically shook his head. ‘Nope. So listen. This mission is for Mike Regan. He wants a few answers out of those two, and if it means getting nasty, and you feel the need to put the pressure on them, you’ll ’ave Mikey’s blessing. They’re gonna end up dead anyway.’

      Trenton moved his long fringe away from his eyes, and then he rubbed his beard. ‘The Hells Angels’ way it is, then.’

      ‘Good lad. Now then, after exercise, I’ll give you instructions, and you’ll need to memorize the questions because that’s the most important bit. We want answers before they end up in the prison mortuary.’

      Trenton smirked, showing his black teeth. ‘I’m surprised they made it to prison, with Mike Regan gunning for them.’

      ‘Don’t you worry about that. His bird wanted them locked up. Ya know, so they could have a taste of what she went through, but now she and Mikey want them done away with.’

      * * *

      Guy and Benjamin had a cell next door to each other. They’d managed to pay a screw to organize it, yet they couldn’t afford the amount it would cost for protection. Both were quiet and had tried to keep themselves to themselves. Outside prison, they had power through their wealth and influence, mainly in the Jewish community, but inside Brixton Prison they were sitting ducks.

      Every