Free Reckoning by Heather Atkinson Page A

by Jules and her knives. She rammed one of the blades into the side of his belly and whacked him across the face with the hilt of the second knife.
    The other three tried to fight back but it was useless. Mikey catapulted one across the room with a punch to the jaw. Jez kicked one in the stomach, snatched up a broken chair leg and whacked him round the back of the head. Jules finished off the fourth with a knife to the back of the knee, laming him and he dropped to the floor with a cry.
    “I figured we wanted one of them conscious,” she said, indicating the three comatose men.
    “Hey, that was fucking beautiful,” slurred the drunk, still perched on his stool, raising his pint glass in a toast. “That little sod Lyle Nilsen has been begging for a good hiding.”
    “Lyle Nilsen?” said Mikey.
    The drunk pointed at the man Jules had kneecapped. “That’s the bugger.”
    Mikey pulled off the balaclava to reveal an attractive man in his late twenties with the trademark Nilsen mop of curly brown hair.
    “I wish Toni McVay was here to see this,” Mikey smiled predatorily. His head snapped round to face the manager. “You can leave. We’ll clear this lot up.”
    “But the mess…we’re open…,” he stammered, having seen nothing like this before.
    “We’re closed for the rest of the day. We’ll get someone in to sort all this out. When you come in tomorrow you won’t be able to tell anything happened. You keep your mouth shut about this and you’ll get a hefty bonus in your next pay packet. Alright?”
    “Y…yes Mr Maguire,” he said before bolting out the back door.
    “You can do one too Geordie,” Jez told the drunk.
    “Alright son, I know when I’m not wanted, although I’d love to see that bastard get his comeuppance,” he replied, pointing at Lyle, who had stopped groaning in pain and was alert and listening to every word of the conversation, but not daring to join in. His big brother had told him that if you get caught you don’t say a word. Lyle knew he’d meant if you get captured by the police but he assumed the same applied if you were caught by your enemies. Besides, his throat was so constricted with fear he wasn’t sure he could speak.
    “He hit me once because he thought it was funny, showing off in front of his mates,” continued Geordie.
    “In that case, have one on us before you go,” said Jez. “Just don’t knock him out, we need him to talk.”
    “Oh fucking great,” exclaimed Geordie, sliding off his stool and reeling over to where Lyle lay, who looked up at him warily. “Not so tough now, are you?” he yelled before stamping on his crotch, making him squeal.
    While Geordie had his fun, Jules went around the other three men and pulled off their balaclavas. It came as no surprise to discover they were all Lyle’s cronies.
    “Thanks for that boys,” grinned Geordie when he’d done, revealing blackened teeth and wafting them all with his foetid breath.
    “No worries,” said Mikey. He went behind the back of the bar and produced an unopened bottle of scotch and a bottle of vodka. He found an empty carrier bag under the bar, slid the bottles inside and handed them to him. “A gift. Tell everyone what you saw here today.”
    “I will and I’ll enjoy it,” he said before taking the bag. “No need for this though, hurting that wanker was reward enough. Just one thing, hurt him some more for me will you?”
    “Oh we will, have no worries on that score,” said Mikey, glaring at Lyle, who recoiled.
    Jules let Geordie out, just opening the door wide enough for him to slip through. As he exited two men tried to get in, innocent to the situation inside.
    “Bugger, off, we’re closed,” she yelled at them before slamming the door shut in their startled faces and locking it.
    “Jules, get your phone out,” said Mikey, picking up one of the discarded baseball bats while Jez brandished a knife. “We’re going to send Toni proof that we’re sorting this shit