Good job there was no law against driving a wheelchair under the influence.
Carlo went full pelt. Reached the Coalgate in good time. Checked that the gun was still in his bag then powered ahead over to Nan Ramsay's house.
The gate was open and he went straight in. Didn't even slow down to take the turn. He manoeuvred left. Slipped off the path and onto the junk-filled meadow that was supposed to be lawn.
The long grass and the crap on the ground almost did for him. Nearly toppled the chair, but he had just enough momentum to get through.
He got back onto the drive as quickly as he could manage.
Took a position behind the old, rusted van – it hadn't moved in all the time he'd been in Tranent, probably because it had no wheels.
Figured he'd have to wait a good while until they showed and pulled out his flask and cheese sandwiches.
When shots echoed around the block, he dropped his supper and crouched down. Fumbled round in his bag for the gun.
The next set of shots made him jump again.
He considered his position. "Dead man fucking walking," he said, "Or at least dead man."
All down the street the curtains twitched.
Doors opened and people spilled out onto the street like it was midnight on Hogmanay, only nobody was carrying coal or slices of bread.
They all headed in his direction.
Wasn't looking good.
Best he could come up with was to pretend to be first on the scene.
He kicked his flask and his sarnies under the van and sped to the front door. Almost came a cropper as the wheels bumped over an old exhaust.
If it hadn't been for the step, he'd have gone straight in to the house. Instead he had to be satisfied with the sight of Nan leaning in her walking frame all out of breath shouting something into her mobile phone.
***
Mikey and Kris arrived ten minutes later.
Had a couple of their crew with them.
They poured out of the car like they'd had training. The brothers headed straight inside, the muscle to disperse the crowd.
Not everyone was keen to move.
Couple of big blokes the worse for wear, guts flopping over the tops of their trousers, seemed to be up for a bit of physical exercise. Stepped up to Kris and Mikey's boys and leaned over them.
"Someone's firing guns on our street, we want to know, OK son?"
"Make sure it's safe for the bairns, ken?"
Young lads in the hoods didn't respond. Just leaned closer and stared.
"Think we're going to listen to a couple of teenagers, you've got another thing coming."
The big guy threw a punch. His arm looked massive, the fist at the end of it like a demolition ball.
The other guy moved at the same time, lunging forward like he preferred wrestling to toe to toe. Didn't matter what style he liked, he was on his back before he knew a thing about it, next to his mate whose face wore a 'what the fuck?' expression.
Carlo hadn't seen what the lads had done it was so fast.
Judo he reckoned, or some other martial art.
The big guys looked like they were after more until the lads pointed guns at their faces. Without speaking, the men got up from the floor, put their hands high in the air and backed away.
Kid in the grey top spoke quietly to them as they left. "Police show, I'm coming after you."
That pretty much did it for sorting front of house.
Carlo turned the switch to drive and pushed the lever to make sure he got away. Turned right when he got to the pavement and right again into the alley by the side of Nan's. He stopped behind the fence and the trees of the Wynd. Should have taken up there in the first place. Seemed obvious now. Would have kicked himself if he could.
He put his eye to a gap in the fence and had a nosey.
The two young lads who worked for the Ramsays hung around for as long as it took them to smoke a ciggy then went inside.
Didn't look like the police were going to show, so Carlo decided to wait around. See if he'd get a chance for a shot at Mikey and Kris after all.
***
The slamming of the door woke Carlo up. Four men left the house and headed straight for where he was hiding. With the four sticking together like jammy fingers, he didn't fancy his chances of getting away with murder. If they went his way, he was going to go out blazing, like Butch and Sundance.
He watched as Kris punched and kicked the van like a panel-beater, then grabbed one of the martial artists by the hood and raised him onto his toes. This time the kid didn't do anything to defend himself.
"You sure you didn't tell anyone, Mully?" Mulligan's face was red. His eyes bulged like Peter Lorre's. If he had an answer, it wasn't coming. "Haven't been letting that tongue of yours loose after snorting the good stuff, huh?"
Mulligan shook his head like his life depended on it.
Mikey and Thurston looked at each other and seemed to decide not to move in.
"You really sure?" Kris dragged him over to the window of the van, pushed his head down to the jagged, shark's teeth ridges he'd left when he punched it through.
Mulligan nodded furiously.
Didn't stop Kris though. He pulled his head back and held it as if ready to smash it down.
"It was me, Kris," Mikey shouted. "It might have been me."
Throwing Mulligan to the ground, Kris turned towards his brother.
Thurston, stepped back immediately and watched his friend trying to find his feet.
"Might have?" Kris asked.
"I mentioned it once. To help you out."
There was a moment of calm. Carlo prepared himself. Wondered whether it would be a good time to pull the trigger. Looked over at 'Bruce Lee' and decided to hold fire.
"You have five seconds."
"Kylie. She was wondering why you were out again. Thought you might be shagging another bird."
"So?"
"So she was crying. The bairn too. I felt sorry for her, that was all."
"Daft prick."
"She's like family, Kris. I didn't think it mattered. Stopped her crying when I told her that we had enough under Nan's bed to give her a future. Maybe even a new life up town."
Kris turned his back on them all. "Of all the daft…" In mid sentence he turned on one foot, raised his leg like a ballerina and spun round. The heel of his foot caught Mikey hard. Knocked him down to join Mulligan who'd stopped moving.
"Dickhead." Kris stormed off through the gate in the direction of Bert and Kylie's house, Thurston following a few paces behind.
When they'd disappeared from view, Carlo set his chair into action.
"You daft bitch," he muttered as he went. "Burned your bridges there, girl," and he smiled. Maybe he and Kylie still had a chance, after all.