“What?” Fenny asked as she looked up from the pile of papers she’d taken to rifling through.

“Don’s journal. I found his journal,” Paul gasped as he slid into an antique leather chair.

“What’s it say?” Gina asked, abandoning the email and focussing her attention on Paul.

“Most of it’s just drug deals, when, where, who. He spent his holidays in Spain and bought his sister a toaster for Christmas.”

“Well, that just makes the Hitler Diaries look like a farce,” Fenny sarced as she went back to looking through the paper work.

“There’s got to be something noteworthy,” Gina declared. “I certainly know all my diaries have hoards of information in them.”

“Noteworthy? You class all the drivel about men, breasts and your cat noteworthy?” Paul teased.

“You read my diaries!” Gina gasped. Paul smiled wickedly. “Even this bits about…”

“I’ve read those bits a couple of times,” Paul mused and then went back to flicking through Don’s journal. “It just stops, why does it…”

Both Gina and Fenny looked up and Paul dropped the book and hurried back over to the desk. He started looking through the disks he’d been playing with the previous day. “Ah ha,” he perked and shoved a blue disk into the disk drive as he sat down.

“What? What have you found?” Gina asked, making her way back over.

“The rest of that fucker’s journal,” Paul replied as Fenny appeared on his other side. There were two files on the disk, the aptly named ‘Journal’ and ‘Map.’ Paul clicked on the journal and the three started to read.

“I never did that!” Gina declared as she read an entry dedicated entirely to some unsavory acts she was supposed to have committed.

“Not with him anyway,” Paul smirked. “Can you believe he wanted me dead at least half a dozen times?”

“He wanted to do what to me with a battery operated…” Fenny began.

“I’m really hoping that’s a typo,” Paul cut in.

“If it’s not he’s a sicker fuck than we first thought,” Gina winced.

“God, can we not read any more of that!” Fenny demanded.

“Call me god again and we can do anything,” Paul perked and was quickly clipped around the ear by Gina.

“Let’s look at the map,” Fenny enthused as Paul rubbed his head and closed the journal. The map appeared on screen and appeared to be adorned by red dots.

“I wonder what they represent?” Gina mumbled.

“Drug drop off points?” Fenny shrugged.

“Hardly, Fen,” Paul corrected. “Most of them are in forests or moors.”

“Well, there’s one not far from here. Let’s check it out,” Gina perked.

Paul studied some of the directions under the map; each dot had a number and a series of obscure directions, “I guess it’s worth a try.”

“As long as we don’t get arrested,” Fenny shrugged.

“Where’s your sense of adventure, girl?” Gina chided.

“When have I ever had a sense of adventure?” Fenny sighed.

“She’s got a point,” Paul teased as he started printing the map.

“Prick,” Fenny mumbled and Gina giggled.

“Look at that,” Brad beamed as he pointed out his full house for the third time. “Looks like my luck as changed.”

“I’ll kick your arse this time Sherwood,” Danny announced, nothing but humour in the threat.

They were interrupted by a knock at the door. The heavy that had seen Beven and Brad in the corridor earlier appeared.

“Bev, a word,” he announced coldly. Brad and Danny both looked at Beven who looked unfazed.

“Typical, just when the game is getting good,” he announced and got to his feet. “Please, feel free to continue without me,” he added.

Beven followed the other man outside and into another room. “What the fuck is your problem, Al?” Beven hissed.

“You, you stupid bastard,” Al snapped. “I’ve been watching you. You’ve made friends with that fucking yank and his girlfriends.”

“I have no idea what you’re talking about.”

“Bullshit,” Al spat. “You’ve become a liability.”

“Me? You’re the one that runs to Don every five seconds whining about every…” Beven stopped when he realised Al had pointed a gun at his chest. “What the fuck are you doing?”

“Just keeping things clean,” Al replied.

“Wanker,” Beven scowled, grabbed the gun, twisted Al’s arm behind his back and pushed him into the wall. “You ever draw a gun on me again and I’ll stop your heart beating so quick you won’t have time for any last words.”

“You’re fucking up the entire operation,” Al gagged.

Beven pressed the barrel of the gun into Al’s back. “Have you told anyone?”

“Only Don, but I think he was occupied with other one of his hookers,” Al gasped.

“I should blow a hole through you right here,” Beven snarled and then released his grip. “Let’s go back to the game, shall we.”

Beven let Al leave first and then followed him, wondering how long it’d take for things to turn ugly and whether he’d still be able to do what he planned.

“So, how are you taking me to Scotland?” Ritza asked as she sat in the back of a dark car with Don.

“Anyway you want, baby,” Don replied as he dropped kisses on her neck and gave her breasts another squeeze.

“I think we should fly, it’ll be quicker,” Ritza smiled. “I like flying.”

“Airport,” Don snapped at the driver.

The car veered into another lane and Don continued his assault on Ritza, who, had they not been flanked by heavies, would have broken his neck.

“I’ll buy you anything you want, baby, just ask,” Don declared. “You want diamonds, I’ll get you diamonds.”

Ritza gave him a small smile. She didn’t feel like indulging in how she’d gotten a rather nice diamond necklace once. “How about a posh house in Malibu?”

“We do like to think big, don’t we?”

“All the best things are big,” Ritza purred as she let her hand slip onto his thigh again.

“We could make a good team,” Don smiled.

“What type of team?” Ritza asked. “I mean, if you were into something illegal…well…I could be good for you,” she whispered into his ear.

Don studied her for a moment and then pulled her into what he thought was a heated kiss.

“Down there,” Paul piped up and pointed to an overgrown dirt track with Troy whom he’d insisted on bringing with him.

“Then where?” Fenny asked as she clambered up on the back seat to look over Paul’s shoulder.

“There should be a gate somewhere,” Paul shrugged.

Fenny looked around eagerly. Well the whole thing was kind of exciting, after all. “THERE!” she declared and Gina pulled the car to a stop. The three piled out, Paul still enthralled in the map.

“Do we need anything?” Fenny asked looking at Gina.

“Might do to take the shovel,” she added and grabbed a rather worn one they’d shoved in the trunk before leaving.

“So where do we go from the gate?” Fenny asked, approaching it.

“Over it,” Paul replied and the three hoisted themselves over and into thick forest.

“That way,” Gina piped up as she looked at the map and its directions. Ten minutes later Fenny was leaning against a tree and Gina sitting on a rock as Paul followed the last of the instructions and stopped in the middle of a small clearing.

“There’s nothing here,” he announced, somewhat disappointed. “What’s the point if there’s nothing…”

Gina leapt to her feet, grabbed the spade and poked the ground. “Dig, we have to dig.”

“I’m not digging,” Fenny chimed in. “Artists don’t dig.”

“Hey, I’m an artist,” Paul perked.

“You’re also a man,” Gina pointed out and thrust the shovel into his hands. Paul gave her daggers and passed her the map. The soil was soft and it didn’t take too long for a hole to emerge.

“What do you think is down there?” Fenny asked Gina. “Drugs? Buried treasure?”

“Jesus fucking Christ,” Paul gasped and toppled out of the hole looking slightly pale.

“What? What did you find?” Fenny asked and leaned across the hole to look. A dirty skull smiled back at her. She let out a shriek and grabbed onto Paul.

“Cool, the red dots indicate corpses,” Gina enthused.

“That’s not cool!” Fenny spat.

“I wonder who it is?” Gina continued and bent down to get a closer look. She reached out to touch it but Paul smacked her hand away.

“I’m confiscating your true crime collection,” he announced.

“There’s no obvious trauma to the head. If we dig the whole thing up…”

“You’re not one of those CSI people,” Fenny scorned. “I say we bury it and try and forget we ever came across human remains.”

“What I don’t get,” Paul announced, “is, if the red dots represent people Don’s killed or had killed, what do the five green ones represent?” The three looked at the skull, then at each other, their eyes going wide all at once. “Fucking hell, we’d better go find the others!”

“Better bury John here first,” Gina sighed and kicked the dirt with her foot.

It surprised Ritza how quickly you could get around Europe, and it wasn’t long until they were roaring up the motorway toward Scotland.

“We should call into Newcastle,” Don announced to the driver.

“Oh, why?” Ritza asked.

“There’s a card game I need to check on and a few people I need to see,” Don replied. “We won’t be there long, sweetie.”

“I was hoping we could go straight to your place,” Ritza pouted as the car sped past the “Welcome to Newcastle” sign.

Greg was going slowly out of his mind. He’d been sitting in the car all day and listening to some god awful Brit-pop station. If he heard another shitty Australian ex-soap star wailing out a tune, he was going to be physically ill. He leaned back in his seat and caught sight of a car pulling up in front of his own. A chill ran down his spine as he noticed Don’s familiar body.

“Shit,” he muttered and grabbed his cell phone, which dropped to his feet. After several seconds of fumbling he sat back up and saw Ritza appear from the car. She looked over her shoulder and gave him a concerned look. Greg ducked low again as Don looked around and then waited until they headed to the door before he slid out of the car. He kept his head bowed and a small distance between them until they were in the lobby. He managed to tap Ritza on the back and motion to the restrooms. She nodded and he made his escape. Greg made sure no one was looking before he slipped into the women’s restrooms. This in itself felt extremely weird, but he was pleased to find they were thoroughly more hygienic than the men’s. He was tempting the scented soap when Ritza appeared.

“What the fuck are you doing here?” Greg asked before she could get a word out.

“I don’t know, Don wanted to check things out. I tried to stall him, I really did,” Ritza gasped. “Be grateful all you’ve had to do is sit in a bloody car.”

“Hey, I had to break up a fight. Sure it was between Dan and Brad, but I still had to help,” Greg huffed.

“I’ve had than man’s hands in places that only my gynecologist has been.”

“You didn’t fuck him?”

“Would it bother you if I had?”

“Of course it would. We’re, ah…what are we?”

Ritza shook her head. “We’re confused.”

“So did you fuck him?”

“God no. Besides, it’s a bit painful, what with the bullet wound and all.”

“Did you find anything out?”

“Only that one of those morons knows Beven is friends with Brad.”

“What? One of the goons here?”

“I think so.”

“Shit, shit, shit,” Greg spat as he ran his fingers through his hair. “I still wouldn’t be so sure about Beven. There are body bags in the car.”

Ritza blinked. “Oh that’s not good. Take it from someone who knows.”

“What do we do?” Greg breathed.

“Well, I have to go back to Don before he gets suspicious,” Ritza sighed and took a quick look at herself in the mirror. She looked exhausted. Greg came up beside her and rested his hand on her arm. She instantly moved against him, her arms holding him tightly.

“You smell of chips,” she mused.

“Newcastle seems devoid of anything that’s not deep fried,” Greg chided.

“Like you care,” she teased. They fell silent for a second. “Thanks for the hug,” Ritza announced as she pulled away.

“Anytime,” Greg smiled as the door opened and a women in a purple pant suit appeared looking startled. “What? I’ve still got a couple of operations to go, you know,” he declared and marched past her.

“She’s going to look lovely,” Ritza nodded enthusiastically.

Brad raised an eyebrow at the man sitting across from him. He would either fold or throw more money into the pot. The man let out a sigh and folded and Brad turned his cards over to reveal a winning hand.

“I’ll have to count my blessings one of these days,” he grinned as Danny shook his head. The room was silenced when the door opened and Don appeared, Ritza tentatively by his side.

“My, we all seem to be having fun,” Don smiled.

“HE’S A TRAITOR,” Al suddenly barked, getting to his feet and pointing to Beven. “HE’S FRIENDS WITH THE AMERICAN.”

“Fuck,” Beven sighed, shaking his head as Don turned on him.

“Is this true?” he asked.

“I’ve seen them talking too,” piped up another heavy who Brad was tempted to throw the deck of cards at.

“Oh Beven, how could you,” Don tutted as started reaching for his gun.

“Al’s being a dick,” Beven countered.

“You know, I don’t think he is,” Don sighed. “Would explain why the others escaped, wouldn’t it? I mean I expected a traitor in the midst, but you…” he levelled the gun at Beven’s chest.

“NO!” Brad yelled and leapt onto the table. Don turned to point the gun at Brad. “Go on, you didn’t do it last time.”

A shot rang out and Don fell to the ground screaming, grabbing the opposite thigh to before.

“Never let a man do a woman’s job,” Ritza sighed, blowing the smoke from her gun. “This is where we run,” she added. Brad and Danny both bolted from the room, Beven and Ritza not far behind them. Beven noticed Ritza lagging because of her heeled shoes and threw her over his shoulder as they raced away from the pack of pissed off gangsters.

Greg looked up from the wheel as the group poured out of the door. Danny tumbled into the front seat with Brad, Ritza and Beven falling into the back.

“DRIVE,” they yelled all at once.

“What the fuck happened?” Greg gasped as several bullets ricocheted off the car.

“Things turned ugly and Ritza shot Don,” Danny gasped.

“Dead?”

“Nah, I was aiming for his balls but…”

“I am so dead,” Beven sighed, his head falling into his hands.

“Never mind,” Greg mused, “we have body bags.”

“We what?” Brad gasped. “Why do we have body bags?” he looked accusingly at Beven.

“I was planning to fake your deaths. Unfortunately, we might not have to.”

“Well, that’s optimistic” Ritza groaned.

“We have to stop,” Gina declared as she started to slow the car.

“Why?” Fenny and Paul said together.

“I’m starving,” Gina replied. “Let’s get something to eat.”

“I think the fact we’ve found our burial plots is kinda more important than food,” Fenny gasped.

“Actually, I’m with Genie. Brad and Dan will be fine with Beven,” Paul nodded.

“Fine,” Fenny huffed and fell back against the seat and crossed her arms.

“Fen, with you sitting like that I feel like your mother,” Gina chided. “If you don’t behave yourself, young lady, I’ll turn this car around and we’ll go straight home.”

“And then you can go straight to you room and you won’t be having dinner, pocket money, or television for the next month,” Paul added.

Fenny closed her eyes and shook her head. “You two are seriously mental.”

“Don’t you refer to your mother as mental or I’ll take my belt off,” Paul threatened.

“Don’t bully her, dear,” Gina sighed.

“I have jumped from a moving vehicle before, you know,” Fenny mused.

“It’s always the same with you, isn’t it?” Paul announced. “‘I’ve jumped from a moving vehicle.’ Well, you can jump again if you’re going to have that attitude. Your father…mother and I have done everything for you, young lady, and what do we get in return? Nothing but cheek and insults. When are you going to cut your hair and get a job, hey? You ran off with that Sherwood boy without a word to either your mother or me. You should have seen her, devastated she was, and I told her, I told her you were an ungrateful child. So, if you want to jump from this car you go ahead but don’t expect us to visit you in intensive care.”

Gina started to giggle as she pulled the car into a roadside diner, as did Fenny and Paul.

“Thanks Dad,” Fenny chided and shoved Troy into Paul’s lap.

“That’s another thing. You need to respect Troy here a bit more,” Paul piped up as they slid out of the car.

“Shut him up, please,” Fenny begged.

“Stop being a wanker,” Gina sniggered as she wrapped her arms around him.

“But not like that,” Fenny groaned as she grabbed both of them and dragged them toward the door.

“They’re still on our tail,” Ritza announced as Greg pushed his foot down further on the accelerator.

“We’ve got to lose them,” Brad declared.

“No really? I thought we should pull over and chat,” Greg snapped.

“It’s an idea,” Beven pointed out. “Where are we going to run to exactly?”

“As far from them as possible,” Danny suggested as Greg took a sharp corner and the road began to climb through the hills.

“They’re gaining,” Brad announced, looking worried.

“I can’t go any faster, I’ll lose control,” Greg shrieked as the large black car behind them started moving closer.

“There’s no where to go, either,” Ritza breathed.

“Fuck, they’re pulling along aide of us,” Beven spat as the black car pulled dangerously close to them.

“They’re going to run us off the road,” Brad gasped.

“What do we do?” Danny panicked as the black car thumped against the driver’s side, sending the wheels perilously close to the edge. Ritza grabbed onto both Brad and Beven as the car took another hit. Greg lost control on the soft edges of the road and they found themselves speeding through thick flora until the car hit a tree and skidded into a secluded river.

“Could you be any more embarrassing?” Fenny giggled as the three walked back to the car after filling up on hotdogs and fries.

“I have no idea what you’re talking about,” Paul gasped innocently.

“You did things with your hotdog that made me blush.”

“Genie encouraged me.”

“I did not,” Gina said indignantly, “any comments I made had nothing to do with your hotdog.”

“It’s a metaphor,” he mouthed to Fenny.

“Do you want to drive for a while?” Gina asked as she fished the keys from her pocket. “I think I’m getting a headache.”

“Sure, why not,” Fenny perked and took they keys.

The three approached the car and Gina noticed something. “Fen, you didn’t lock the back door.”

“Of course I did,” Fenny replied as she too noticed the plastic button was popped up to indicate it was open. “Oh well, it wasn’t stolen.”

“Exactly, now let’s go,” Paul mused. “Ladies first,” he added as he opened the door.

“Fucking hell,” they both shrieked together.

“What!” Fenny sighed and poked her head around the driver’s seat. “Ohmygod,” she clambered back out the car.

In the back seat was the blood-covered body of a heavy, one they knew by physical appearance. He’d been shot in the head and chest, and to make it even more ghoulish, Troy was sitting on top of him, glass eyes blankly staring into the distance.