“Morning fellas,” Danny yawned as he joined Paul and Greg in the living room. He fell into an armchair and looked toward the kitchen.

“Brad’ll be here soon,” Paul said softly, a sympathetic look on his face.

“Right, that’s good isn’t it? He’s not bleeding internally or anything, is he?” Danny asked.

“I believe he’s fine,” Paul replied bemused.

“Yeah, I think Paul’s done enough bleeding for all of us,” Greg piped up and copped an unamused look from Paul who automatically rubbed his abdomen.

“How’d we all sleep?” Ritza asked, appearing in an unattractive floral apron.

“Like a baby, ma,” Greg teased.

“You wailed and wet the bed then?” she chided as Paul and Danny sniggered. “How about you two.”

“On my side with my knees tucked up,” Paul replied, then raised an eyebrow. “Usually I do a funny little action but I fear for the health of my bowel if I do.”

“Bambi?”

“I slept well,” Danny nodded and took another glance at the kitchen.

“Want to talk about it?” Gina asked as she noticed Fenny trying subtly to look in the living room in Danny’s direction.

“No, I’m dealing with it in my own way,” Fenny replied and caught Gina’s eye. “I’m in denial.”

“That never works.”

“I know,” Fenny sighed crossing her arms and leaning against the sideboard.

“I had an interesting experience in the early hours of the morning,” Gina mused as she flipped a pancake.

“If it’s got anything to do with the Kama Sutra, I really, really don’t want to know.”

“God no, Paul’s frail body would shatter. No, I got talking to Greg.”

“And?”

“And,” Gina smiled wickedly as she lowered her voice. “He’s been screwing Ritza.”

Fenny’s eyes went wide and her hand shot to her mouth. “You’re joking.”

Gina shook her head. “I wish. And know why he told me?”

“He doesn’t like shellfish?”

“What?”

“I couldn’t think of a decent response, so I went surreal.”

“Yeah, okay. Back to me now,” Gina frowned. “He felt guilty, toward me, not his wife.”

“Oh my, you didn’t?”

“Didn’t what?”

“What Paul, uh, can’t?”

“Huh? No, don’t be disgusting. We discussed our plans to become Mongolian goat farmers and went our separate ways.”

“And I thought I was going surreal,” Fenny mused. “So did you think about it?”

“Course I did,” Gina smiled. “But I went back to my husband.”

“Aw, you should write a 12 step programme: ‘Adultery and How to Get Away With It’ by Gina McDermott (nee Coleman and possibly Proops).”

“Do you want a pancake mixture enema?”

Fenny cackled, “I’m sorry.”

“Oh, that was convincing,” Gina sarced as she deposited the last of the pancakes onto a large plate.

“Breakfast is ready, guys,” Ritza declared, quickly looking into the kitchen and then turning back to the living room.

The group piled around the table, with Greg at one end, Gina and Paul on one side, Ritza and Fenny on the other, and Danny at the other end. There was at least five minutes when everyone was too busy eating to talk. Fenny and Danny tried to avoid looking at each other, but seemed to bump hands and legs no matter what they did. Paul appeared to wince on every third mouthful of food and couldn’t really reach anything, and Greg and Gina fell into some absurd debate about the chicken and the egg, which was decided when Ritza pointed out to get the egg you needed the rooster.

“I’m full as a fart,” Paul announced and leaned back in his chair.

“Such a charming expression,” Fenny mused.

“Full up to pussy’s box,” Ritza piped up and Paul, Danny and Gina sniggered.

“I’m really hoping that’s Australian slang,” Greg sighed.

“Hey, it hadn’t occurred to me,” Paul mused. “You two are in a minority here.”

“I vote the minority does the dishes,” Ritza grinned.

“Yeah, they didn’t help make breakfast,” Gina nodded enthusiastically.

“Oh that’s hardly fair,” Fenny huffed. “Paul and Dan didn’t do anything either.”

“I’m an injured man,” Paul pouted as he got to his feet, a pained hiss leaving his lips as he did.

“I break things,” Danny shrugged. “I’ve been banned from crockery.”

“You lying hound,” Gina teased.

“I’ll get dishpan hands,” Greg huffed and he headed over to the sink to look for washing up liquid.

“Well, you can argue it amongst yourselves, but Ritza and I aren’t lifting a finger,” Gina declared, “and Paul is banned from strenuous activities.”

Paul grinned and headed for the living room. “Like washing dishes is strenuous,” Fenny scorned.

“Trust me Fen, that includes sex,” Gina perked and followed Paul with Ritza.

“Found it,” Greg perked and pulled out a slightly dusty bottle of lemon scented washing up liquid.

“Aren’t you a clever boy,” Fenny teased as she pawed through a couple of drawers until she found the tea towels.

“Looks like you don’t need me then,” Danny chided before Fenny dropped a tea towel on his head. “Or maybe you do.”

They set about washing the dishes and Greg was scrubbing the last pan when the three friends nearly jumped a mile.

“Gina made pancakes and you bastards didn’t leave me any,” Brad declared, appearing at the door, his suit still wrinkled, cuffs and tie undone, along with several shirt buttons.

“Brad!” Fenny gasped and dashed across the room and into his arms. She wrapped her arms tightly around his neck and her legs around his waist.

“She never did that with me,” Greg muttered.

“You missed out, mate,” Danny chided and nudged Greg in the side, much to Greg’s chagrin.

“God I’m glad to see you,” Brad breathed as he supported Fenny’s weight.

“I was so worried,” Fenny cooed and brought her lips lustily to Brad’s. The intensity of the kiss surprised Brad and he lost his balance and ended up pinning Fenny to the wall, not that she seemed to notice. They kissed until a large man entered the kitchen behind Brad, and Greg and Danny looked mortified. The man cleared his throat and Brad pulled away from Fenny, her feet sliding back to the floor.

“Beven, sorry buddy,” Brad perked.

“No you’re not,” Beven countered.

“Who’s the big dude?” Greg asked, his voice cracking as he toyed with a sponge.

“Shit, I haven’t even introduced you,” Brad said. “Greg, Dan this is Beven. Beven this is Greg and Dan.”

“Hi,” Danny and Greg said together, not leaving their places.

“Morning,” Beven nodded. “I should get going,” he added.

“Don’t be ridiculous,” Gina declared as she entered the room with Paul and Ritza. “Have you even had breakfast?”

“Are you going to make more pancakes?” Brad asked with a grin.

“Of course I am,” Gina perked, “besides, it’s the least I can do to thank you Beven.”

“For what?” Beven asked.

“Saving my husband.”

“If only you’d come along before they pulverized my vital organs,” Paul grumbled as he shuffled over to a chair.

“Jesus,” Brad breathed when he caught sight of Paul.

“How come I’m the one that always gets beaten,” Paul huffed.

“Because you’ve got the biggest mouth, darling,” Gina chided as she turned to concentrate on making pancakes. Paul sneered at her back and she turned back around and glared at him.

Brad pulled out a chair and sat down, Fenny rested herself on one of his legs, not daring the let go. “You’re not allowed to leave me again,” she cooed as she cuddled him.

“Actually, he might have to,” Beven piped up as he took a seat beside Ritza who smiled politely.

“Why?” Fenny asked, annoyance entering her voice.

“Sweetheart, Don isn’t just going to leave us alone,” Brad replied.

“He’s not?” Danny peeped.

“No, he’s already pissed after being shot. He’s after blood,” Beven said blankly.

“Oh, well that’s heart-warming to know,” Gina chided.

“The point is, the only way we’re going to get Don off our backs is to outwit him,” Brad continued.

“We’ve done that before,” Paul shrugged.

“Exactly, and that’s why Beven and I have come up with a plan,” Brad smiled.

“Oh god,” Fenny gasped and then looked innocently at Brad. “Sorry, I have faith, really I do.”

“What we need to do is to beat Don at his own game,” Beven began.

“I like the idea of beating,” Paul mused.

“Hopefully it won’t come to that, if you lot can take away his business, his money and his clients. He’ll lose his support network and have to go to ground as the people who were once his friends will be doing exactly what he’s doing to you.”

“Why?” Greg asked, “Why would they care?”

“Because he knows way too much,” Beven replied.

“What about Amy and Claudia?” Paul pressed.

“Amy’s been dealt with,” Ritza piped up, “and no, I didn’t have her killed.”

Beven looked at Ritza curiously and then back everyone else. “Claudia will do what she does best…”

“Prostitution,” Fenny cut in.

“Exactly,” Beven nodded.

“So what do we have to do?” Danny asked.

“This is where it gets good,” Brad perked. “Although, we were a tad drunk at the time so don’t think too much about the holes in the plan.”

“Well, now I’m bristling with confidence,” Paul sarced.

“I’m going to go back to gambling, except Dan, you’ll come with me…”

“Why?” Danny asked, looking worried.

“You’re smart and you’re big enough to handle yourself,” Brad replied. Fenny felt herself tense, not happy that Brad and Danny were to be paired together. “Besides, with Beven around we’ll be fine.”

“Sure,” Danny smiled. “I’m a pretty good poker player, too.”

“I can vouch for that,” Gina added as she placed a plate of pancakes on the table.

“Fen and Gina, you two are to go to the manor and hack Don’s computer. Get any information you can out of it, toy with bank accounts, screw with his clients.”

“Oh that sounds fun,” Fenny mused.

“And I already know his passwords,” Gina added.

“Ms Crispin.”

“Yeah,” Ritza nodded.

“Since you’re, well, slightly more criminally minded than the rest of us, you’re to catch up with Don in Europe and infiltrate his group. Get close to him and his friends.”

“Easy,” Ritza said nonchalantly.

“McDermott,” Brad continued, looking at Paul slightly pitifully. “We had plans for you but, seeing as how you’re…”

“I’ll be right…” Paul smirked.

“Well, we were going to get you to cruise the nightclubs and see what drugs were being passed out and by whom.”

“I can do that…” Paul nodded.

“Excuse me, you ache every time you move. You’re not doing it,” Gina declared.

“It’s just nightclubs,” Paul pouted.

“And what if some heavies…” she paused and looked at Beven. “No offence,” then turned back to Paul, “What if those baboons spotted you and went after you, you couldn’t even outrun them.”

“I might feel better by tonight,” Paul muttered and then winced.

“What about me?” Greg asked.

“Oh yeah, Proops, we want you to get a car, you’re going to be our driver.”

“I’m always the fucking driver,” Greg huffed.

“And you’re very good at it,” Brad smiled.

“At least you get to play,” Paul huffed, crossed his arms and tried to mask the pain that it caused.

After Brad and Beven had eaten breakfast, the group congregated outside. It was decided that Paul would go with Gina and Fenny to the manor, while the others would pile into Beven’s car and head toward Edinburgh so that Greg could get a car and they could lose the one they were in and Ritza could be dropped at the airport.

“Oh hey,” Greg announced before everyone got in their cars. “Fen, Gina, Paul, Brad, when this is all over we have to come back here and toast Betty.”

“And get very drunk in the process,” Paul smiled as Fenny pushed past him to give Brad another goodbye hug.

“We’ve all got mobile contact, right?” Beven asked.

“Yes,” came the reply.

“Come on, I’ll be fine,” Brad mused and kissed the top of Fenny’s head.

“I love you so much, you do anything stupid, I’ll kill you,” Fenny babbled, “and Dan.”

“Oh that’s right, bring me into it,” Danny chided as he slid into the car.

Brad dipped his head to catch Fenny’s lips and they shared a brief kiss before he joined the others in the car. Fenny watched them disappear in a mud splatter, then joined Gina and Paul in their waiting car.

Before they left the small village, Gina popped into a chemist and bought Paul some painkillers, which he was more than happy to take and referred to them as “those rather attractive-looking pills.” Then it was straight into the countryside with Fenny buried in the map as she tried to remember where Don’s manor had been. Gina took several looks at Fenny and could tell she was dying to grab a pencil and paper and sketch anything she could. After several hours of driving, Gina found the countryside had merged into one big flock of sheep and splashes of lush green, Paul had fallen asleep, probably due to the painkillers, and the enthusiasm level was gone.

“THERE!” Fenny suddenly yelled, pointing to a tavern, “The Blood and Guts.” It was the only landmark that had persisted in her psyche.

“Hey?” Paul mumbled from the backseat.

“See, I told you, mention a tavern and he wakes,” Gina chided as she caught sight of the huge Edwardian mansion. She found a place to park and the three made their way to the gate and unsurprisingly found it locked.

“Don’t suppose anyone has any bolt cutters on them?” Paul asked jokingly.

“Great, now how do we get in?” Fenny breathed.

“Well he’s not climbing the gate this time,” Gina sighed motioning to Paul. “Surely there has to be another entrance.”

“It’s worth a look,” Paul agreed and the three set off following the large stone wall. The path was overgrown and both Gina and Fenny tripped several times. Paul laughed at both of them until he tripped over a rock and went face first into a puddle. Fenny and Gina lost it, although Gina had to ask him through laughter if he was okay. He gingerly got back to his feet and the girls lost it again as the mud dripped down his front.

“Be glad I’ve taken painkillers and the mud was soft,” he huffed. “By the way,” he added and gave the vine-covered wall beside where he had fallen a kick. There was a loud ‘doof’ and a wooden door flew open, revealing a quiet corner of the yard.

“Well done Watson,” Gina perked.

The others arrived in Edinburgh a few hours later and Beven first visited a small shop in a dank ally and returned to hand both Greg and Ritza fake passports.

“You can destroy them afterwards,” he declared. He then handed them each a wad of cash. “That should be enough for the pair of you.”

“Good luck,” Danny smiled.

“Be careful buddy,” Brad added. “And you Ritz.”

“We’ll be fine,” Ritza enthused as she and Greg found themselves abandoned in the street.

“So, you think you can become Don’s new best friend?” Greg asked as he and Ritza headed toward the bustling main street.

“Yeah, wouldn’t be the first time,” Ritza sighed. “How about you? I’ve heard stories about your getaway driving.”

“I like to think it’s an embodiment of all the terrible movies I’ve seen over the years.”

“You’ll do great,” she nodded as they stopped to watch the people on the main street walk by.

“I guess I better find a car rental place then,” Greg sighed.

“And I better get some luggage and a plane ticket,” Ritza agreed. They both stayed still and gingerly looked at each other before falling into a hug. Without having to say a word, they knew they had no one else to turn to but each other. It wasn’t like Gina and Paul or Fenny and Brad who had each other. On this mission they had no one. Greg wondered, as he buried his face in her hair, whether that was why they’d grown close, they wanted someone to care about them as they found themselves facing their fears.

“Why are we stopping here?” Danny asked as Beven stopped the car outside a men’s suit shop.

“You need a suit,” Beven replied.

“It’s part of the game,” Brad agreed as they bustled Danny inside and had him quickly fitted out with a dark suit, shirt, tie and shoes before they piled back into the car and continued toward their destination.

“Where are we headed?” Danny asked.

“Back to England. Franco decided it wasn’t safe enough in Scotland,” Beven replied.

“Great,” Danny mumbled and the car’s occupants fell silent.

“So, Bewitched or I Dream of Jeannie?” Brad piped up.

“Hmm. Jeannie, she had the better tits,” Beven grinned.

“What?” Danny gasped from the backseat.

“Huh? Oh, we started this conversation earlier,” Brad shrugged.

“Oh right,” Danny huffed. “Bewitched.”

“Don’t remember asking you to join in?” Brad countered.

“Now, now, fellas,” Beven warned. “Whatever issues you have, leave it in the playground.”

“I don’t have issues,” Danny countered.

“Or scruples,” Brad spat.

“Just remember I can break both your necks,” Beven scorned, before Brad and Danny took to glaring at each other.

Ritza bought herself a small bag, several changes of smart clothes, shoes and some makeup before nipping into the department store toilet and tidying herself up. When she reappeared she looked almost businesslike, and felt comfortable about everything, except that she’d have to get to Amsterdam before she could get a gun. Ritza quickly found a taxi and was soon at the airport. The next flight wasn’t for another hour, so she purchased her ticket, bought a magazine and settled down to waste time. She looked up occasionally to make mental notes of the people around her, and was surprised that even after all this time she could still read body language. There was a woman who was a nervous flyer, two undercover policemen who weren’t at all subtle, and a man in a dark suit who she was suspicious about. He made lots of calls on his cell phone and she had a feeling he was a nasty piece of work, but nothing she need worry about.

Greg sauntered into what felt like his millionth car hire firm and went straight to the desk.

“Hi, I’d like to hire a car. Preferably something sporty, with tinted windows and seating for five,” he announced.

“Um, sure,” the nervous young man behind the desk replied. “How long did you want it for.”

“I’m not entirely sure, me and the wife haven’t decided how long we’re staying yet,” Greg lied.

“I need some sort of date sir.”

“For fuck…right, let’s say a week, okay?”

“Right, have you got some ID?”

Greg showed the man his passport and the man took a few details, handed Greg a form to sign and then passed him the keys. Greg was led outside to a flashy black sports car. He thanked the man and waited until he was gone before he called Brad.

“Greg?”

“I got the car.”

“Well done, meet us in Newcastle.”

“What? That’s hours away.”

“It’s where the game is. I’ll call you with details of where the club is, okay?”

“Yeah, sure,” Greg huffed and ended the call. He leaned over to the glove compartment and was pleased to find a road map. He quickly started to mark out his route to Newcastle.

“You look so stupid covered in mud,” Gina teased as she tried to wipe some of the mud from Paul’s face.

“Oh, will you spit on your hankie and wipe my face,” he chided.

“Guys, can you hear something?” Fenny asked.

“No,” Gina and Paul giggled as Gina attacked him with a hankie.

Fenny looked across the garden and saw two blurs. For a second she thought they were large rabbits or some other native British fauna.

“Guys, run,” Fenny declared.

“Why?” Gina asked.

“Dogs,” Fenny pointed as she started to run.

Gina and Paul both looked in the direction she’d pointed. “ROTTWILERS,” Paul yelled and the three bolted toward the servant’s entrance to the manor.