Free Jaggy Splinters by Christopher Brookmyre

tongue lolling out of the right-hand side of its mouth.
    ‘Naw, naw. We’ll let the last hostage go wance we’ve arrived at… AYIAH! Get tae fuck ya clatty wee cunt… naw, no you, officer. Dug was tryin’ tae shag me leg.’
    Jyzer eyed the crusty who was holding the other end of the string. ‘Heh Swampy, that thing touches me again an’ I splatter its baws aw ower this flair, awright? Naw, no you officer. Aye that’s right, aw the hostages. Once we’re up an’ away, we cannae shoot them, right? So they’re aw yours – but no’ until we’re up an’ away. An’ we’re no comin’ up until the chopper’s there. If we come up the stairs an’ there’s fuck-all, it’s gaunny be a fuckin’ bloodbath, right? Cause ye’ll no have gie’d us any choices – we’ll have to shoot oor way oot. Noo, next time this phone rings it better be tae say wur transport’s arrived.’
    He put the phone down again.
    ‘Are we gettin’ a helicopter, Jyzer?’ Tommy asked.
    ‘Don’t be a fuckin’ eejit, Tommy. They’re just stringin’ us alang, same as we’re stringin’ them alang. C’mon.’
    They backed into the passage leading to behind the counters, Tommy keeping a gun on Parlabane, Jyzer still training his on the hostages.
    ‘Nane o’ yous move,’ he called out, stopping at the door that led into the storeroom at the rear of the counters. ‘We’ll be watchin’. Stay where yous are. You might no’ see us, but we’ll still see you. Dinnae try anythin’. Just cause ye cannae see us doesnae mean we’re no there.’
    ‘I’m sure they bought that,’ Parlabane said, nodding, as they retreated into the store-room. ‘I don’t think it would have crossed their minds at all that you might not be watching them. I mean, if you’d overstated your case it might have raised suspicions, but…’
    ‘Fuckin’ shut it,’ grunted Jyzer, nicking back and popping his head round the door to check his prisoners weren’t making a swift but orderly exit.
    ‘More Wildean badinage. Do you mind if I write some of these come-backs down?’
    ‘You’ll no’ sound so smart talkin’ through a burst nose, smart cunt, so I’d fuckin’ wrap it if I was you.’
    ‘And if you burst my nose you’ll be leaving a nice fresh trail of blood along your escape route; that’s if you fuckin’ clowns have got an escape route.’
    ‘We’ve got mair ay a plan than you think, smart cunt.’
    ‘Course you have. You’re fuckin’ professionals. Tell me again about these Insurance Bonds… ’
    Jyzer back-handed Parlabane across the jaw, which was very much what he’d been hoping for. Unfortunately the blow came on the wrong side, so he had to execute a largely unconvincing 180-degree stumble before getting to his intended effect, which was to fall down heavily against the door so that it slammed loudly with his back propped hard against it.
    Despite Parlabane’s abysmally obvious pirouette, it still took Jyzer a few moments to suss the potential problem, by which time the sound of breaking glass was filling the air as the police broke into the front shop and began ushering the hostages out.
    ‘Fuckin’ cunt. Fuckin’ cunt.’
    Jyzer kicked viciously at Parlabane until eventually he rolled clear, then threw the door open to see his prisoners fleeing and the armed cops kneeling down to take aim. He slammed it shut again and pushed a table up against it, then backed into the room, indicating to Parlabane to crawl over against the wall to his right. Jyzer knelt down a few feet away, the gun pointing halfway between his prisoner and the door, his eyes shuttling between both targets.
    ‘We’ve still got a hostage in here,’ he shouted. ‘Any o’ yous cunts tries this door and we’ll do ‘im, right? We still want that fuckin’ helicopter.’
    ‘Okay, okay, everybody stay calm,’ appealed a voice from the other side of the door. ‘Everybody just calm down. I’m pulling my marksmen back to outside the shop, so don’t panic