Free Little Men - The E Book by Ronnie Yax

friends that had ‘proper’ jobs, everything he could think of. He desperately wanted the position. It wasn’t too much to ask, and Nikki would be so impressed that he worked for a large, prestigious advertising agency. He wouldn’t tell her that his new position was an ‘Office Junior ’ .
    Sam pushed these thoughts out of his mind. He had to get the job first. As he sat in reception he concentrated and tried to relax.
    The interview was the usual awkward affair. Sam felt he did okay, but it was hard to tell. The interviewer, Tristan, had little in common with Sam. He was from a privileged family, had a public school education, and been to Oxford University. This probably accounted for his age. He was no older than twenty-two, and was now managing his own department.
    Sam wandered back to the station, relieved it was over and replaying what had happened in his mind. He was sure he’d done enough to clinch it this time, but you never could tell.

    It was the weekend again. The week had gone well. Sam felt so cheerful he almost forgot how poverty-stricken he was. He was itching to go out, get away from the confines of the four walls of his flat or work. He managed to control himself on Friday, but Saturday was a different story. He was climbing the walls. As usual, his mates badgered him constantly.
    Eventually it was Ian (who was known for his strong will and powers of persuasion) who got Sam to capitulate. “Look, I know you’re broke, mate, but I need you with me tonight. I’ve got a good feeling, I can tell it’s gonna be a cracker. The others are up for it. We’ll stay local, just go to The Warehousein Dartford. It won’t cost that much.”
    “But Ian, I really don’t have a penny to my name.”
    Ian was persistent. “I’ve just been paid. I’ll lend you fifty quid for the night. We’ll score some pills off Sean, He’ll do ‘em on tick for us, he likes us.”
    Sam couldn’t find a way out of that one. “Oh, okay.”
    “Nice one! You know it makes sense. We’ll fuckin’ ’ave it tonight, I can feel it. Right. There’s no time to waste. I’ll start getting ready. I’ll get your money out and you can speak to Sean, sort the pills out. You know roughly how many to get. They’ll all be taken. I’ll meet you in The Crown at eight.”
    Ian put the phone down. Sam could see why he was doing well in his job as a salesman. Sam thought about what he’d agreed to do. It was true, he had a good relationship with Sean, but he’d heard all the stories, the savage beatings administered to those who crossed him. The man had been in prison, something that Sam could barely comprehend. It wasn’t a good idea to owe him money. But he could pay him on Friday, less than a week. Sam got on the phone.
    “Sean, hello mate, it’s Sam. Can you sort us out a few cheekies?”
    “Course, mate, you know me. How many?”
    “Twenty?”
    “No probs, you coming round?”
    “Yeah, just one thing, about money…”
    “You can have twenty for a oner, how about that? You’ve caught me in a good mood for once.”
    “Yeah… er, the thing is, I’m a bit broke and…”
    “You want ’em ticked.”
    “Yeah, only till Friday!”
    “I don’t normally… but, as it’s you. I know you’ll be good for it.”
    “Cheers Sean, you’re a star. I’m on my way round.” Sam was shaking as he got off the phone.

Chapter Seven
    Henrik Van Liessen stood back and admired his work. Like Sean Philips, he worked unsociable hours and had been up all night. It was 5 a.m. and he had almost finished for the night. The last batch of ecstasy tablets was nearly ready for packaging. They looked good.
    There was an art to achieving the correct consistency and texture. Henrik regularly had to dispose of batches of pills because they were too hard or too crumbly. He prided himself on the quality of the goods he produced, and keeping his customers happy was of primary importance. He knew they could easily go elsewhere, and he operated in a