CHAPTER SIX

 

 

Clements Cafe was a regular haunt of Dan's. Not only did he frequent it on a daily basis, but on the rare occasions when he had a date to impress - forced upon him by interfering but well-meaning members of his family - he would often bring them to the café; seeking its familiar confines in which to conduct awkward conversations about how he ended up alone and desperate. Not surprisingly, it never worked. In fact of late, Dan was frequently drinking his coffee alone.

He quickened their walking pace as the rain grew steady and increasingly heavier and soon found himself huddled up in a corner seat at the window next to Rou. Although the café was busy, the waitress recognised him as she flitted from table to table and called out as she passed with a tray of food and hot steaming coffee.

"The usual, Danny?"

"Aye, black coffee please, Jude."

"And what about your lady friend?"

Rou shook her head and gave an embarrassed smile as Jude hurried past into the kitchens at the rear. Dan ignored her and turned his attention to the street outside, not knowing what to say to the pretty little Chinese woman quietly sitting beside him, with half her face beaten to a pulp and hidden beneath her hood, hopeful that he could solve her problems when he wasn't even able to solve his own.

Clements Café was situated on the Lisburn Road, which was one of Belfast's main arterial routes into the city centre, but the street outside was almost deserted of pedestrians; the rain now heavy and persistent enough to chase all but the hardiest for refuge indoors. The traffic on the road though was thick with vehicles and Dan hoped that Michael would be impatiently waiting in the rear of one of them, as eager to meet as Dan was. The image comforted him and he smiled at the thought of his friend and the many adventures they had shared in the SAS; lurching from one crisis to the next all across the globe, but always with a smile on his face.

The humour Michael brought to almost every situation belied the man's true character. He was sharp, intelligent, as strong as an ox and tough as old boots. The Regiment was his life and Michael always joked that, dangerous international military operations aside, it would be the death of him. Dan doubted it. In his eyes, Michael Ross was indestructible. They had seen action together on dozens of campaigns over almost ten years of service together and when it came to the crunch, Michael fought like a demon. With his help, maybe Dan could fight at his side again?

The waitress interrupted his fanciful thoughts when she returned and Dan's mind raced back to the present, and Rou, who was patiently waiting beside him. The very sight of his huge bearded friend should be enough to scare the wits out of any Chinese shop owner and have her mother's ring returned in time for tea. But a little bit of intelligence gathering was always a sensible precaution before any definitive action against an unknown force, so he decided to ask a few simple questions of Jude - she was the biggest gossip he knew.

"There you go, Danny. Coffee, strong and black as you like it."

"Thanks. Here, what do you know about that Chinese medicine shop down the street? My friends having some trouble with the owner. Anything unusual ever happen there?"

As she expertly balanced a huge pile of plates in her arms, she shot Dan and Rou a quizzical look, arching her well-manicured eyebrows as she glanced from him to her. But she must have recognised a chance to gossip and launched into a long-winded reply as she carried on with her work.

"Unusual? Strange question, Danny. But now you mention it there are always funny comings and goings from that shop. Suspicious lookin' Chinese men never out of here, with their flashy cars and wads of cash....excuse me and all love...They were in here just this morning you know? All uppity...and in and out of that big black BMW of theirs. Parked in the disabled spot so nobody else can use it ...."

The sound of her voice trailed off as she moved on towards the kitchen with the plates she had gathered, dodging and greeting other customers as she went. But Dan had heard her words and sipped at his coffee, deep in thought. He looked at Rou and offered her a weak smile. She slunk down into her seat, visibly shaking at Jude's description of what Dan took to be the triads.

# # #

At ten minutes to twelve, and in the true military fashion of being five minutes early to be five minutes early, Michael Ross filled the doorway of Clements Café with his massive frame. A broad smile broke across his face when he spotted them, but as he approached, Dan could see his friend's expression change slightly when he noticed Rou. Her hood had slipped back, exposing the edges of a livid bruise; her nervous eyes suggesting trouble when they avoided his gaze.

Michael switched his attention back to Dan without a word of concern and his infectious smile soon returned.

"Danny Boy!"

He spread his arms wide and the two men embraced like the long lost friends they were.

Michael wore a long heavy overcoat, buttoned up to his chin to keep out the chill, but beneath it Dan could feel the hard unrelenting muscle of a man in peak condition. Michael squeezed him as they parted, and launched into friendly banter as he sat down on the opposite side of the table.

"You feel a bit fleshy, Danny. Have you been eating all the pies?"

"Jesus, Mike, your ass hasn't even touched the seat and you're straight into it! Give me a break. I'm just a little out of shape. Nothing that can't be fixed."

His eyes strayed back to Rou, who eventually offered him a weak smile in return.

"This is Rou. She's a friend of mine with a wee problem. I was thinking we could help her out on our way to the pub?"

Over another coffee, Dan explained the situation to Michael, who was by now happily slurping at his own mug of tea and wolfing down a large Ulster Fry as he listened, interrupting only to burp or ask a pertinent question.

"You can do it, Danny. Triads? Fuck me mate!"

Dan had sent Rou home when he noticed her increasing discomfort in Michael's presence, promising her he would return later with the ring. She had nodded her head and smiled, likely glad she would not need to go to the shop again herself, but she whispered in Dan's ear before she left. Leaving him with a warning he would never forget.

"If he does not agree to return the ring, then please leave without incident. You will already have done more than enough just by asking. He may not want the hassle of foreigners getting involved and just return it to you in exchange for the powder. But either way, please do not underestimate these people."

Dan looked over at his friend, who was wiping the last remnants of his breakfast up with a piece of bread and washing it all down with a gulp of tea.

"I told the woman I would help her. Not too sure why I did that right enough, but I did. If you want to wait here I'll only be a minute. She said she doesn't want an incident, so it's maybe better I go alone. You're not exactly discreet."

"And you're a walking incident waiting to happen, Danny. Who's goin' to watch your back, aye? Maybe you've forgotten how many times I've dragged your sorry arse out of trouble! I'll never forget that time we were in Scotland and you picked a fight with that monster in the kilt. Do you remember? He knocked the shite out of you before I got there. Ha!"

The two men laughed together as Michael recalled several more stories from their past – all wildly inaccurate and obviously added to over the years, but funny nonetheless.

"I'll go with you just in case. You do all the talkin' and I'll just loiter in the background. I can see a delivery guy going in and out of the shop right now with boxes. So it's as good a time as any. Maybe she's over egging it. Probably just some punk who'll shit himself when he's stood up to. Tiger bones? Fuckin' weird mate!"

Eventually, with their spirits high and all thoughts of danger pushed aside, the two men casually walked towards Laohu's Chinese Medicine Shop, just across the street.

As they neared the door, Dan could see a delivery man ferrying boxes and made a mental note of the company, which was written in large red lettering on the side of his van – Carter International Logistics. The company had actually offered him a job a few months previously but Dan had turned it down. The early hours and driving duties would have badly collided with his drinking. He wondered if they still had an opening.

The boxes the driver lifted looked heavy and he was piling three of them onto a trolley as they approached. Dan held the door open for him, as he wrestled with the trolley over the lip of the threshold.

"Cheers, mate!"

"No bother. Looks heavy. What have you got in there, gold bullion?

The man laughed and carried on with his work, ignoring Dan's quip.

Inside the shop the shelves were stacked high with potions and remedies claiming to cure everything from arthritis to impotence. At least that's what Dan assumed from the pictures on the containers, as their description and uses were mostly printed in Chinese.

The delivery guy had taken his boxes through a door behind the counter and Dan assumed, due to the empty shop, that the owner would be in there with him, signing for or checking over his goods. He looked towards Michael, who was screwing his face up as he sniffed at the contents of a glass jar on one of the shelves. Dan waved his arms to catch his attention and pointed towards the counter and the door behind it, stifling a burst of laughter as Michael lifted a second jar and retched, after opening the lid to look inside. But before Dan could step forward and call out to the owner, a bell sounded above the door to the shop and three men entered.

They were very serious looking individuals, walking with a confidence and swagger that Dan had witnessed many times before in his years of soldiering. Men with the blood of others on their hands and enough weight behind them to fear no-one. All wore smart black suits, and as they entered the shop a breeze followed them through the door, lifting the hems of their jackets ever so slightly. It was just enough for Dan to catch a glimpse of the firearms they concealed in their waistbands.

The next few moments passed slowly for Dan. And later he would reflect many times on his actions and those of his friend. If he hadn't been hungover and already craving his next drink would things have turned out differently?

He stepped forward to greet the first of them, words forming on his lips that sounded distant and alien. From his pocket he produced the bag of white powder that Rou had given him and held it out for them to see.

"Hello there! Are you in charge? I'm here to return this...this...tiger bone? My friend wants her ring back, her mother made a terrible mistake..."

The first was of a similar height and build to the others, but on seeing the powder his eyes flashed and his face set into a cruel grin. His hair was shaved tight at the sides, showing a dragon tattoo which ran around his ear and down his neck, its tail disappearing underneath the collar of his jacket. The dragon was red with a huge horned head, its mouth spitting fire towards all those who looked upon it. It twisted and turned, moving with the muscles in the man's neck as if it were alive.

He barked out orders in Chinese, unintelligible to Dan or Michael, but the two who followed behind him were quick to obey and spread out across the front of the shop. All three moved their hands to their weapons – ready to draw them in a heartbeat.

Michael sensed the imminent danger and rushed to his side, placing himself between the newcomers and Dan, instantly switching from clown to warrior. His quick movements and formidable appearance caused a reaction in the men he faced that would repeat in Dan's nightmares for years to come.

Dragon Tattoo drew his firearm and released a series of shots which ripped into Michael's body at almost point blank range. A fine spray of blood burst into the air and Michael fell backwards, bloody holes clearly visible in his chest as he spun, crashing into the glass jars he had examined only seconds before.

Instinctively, Dan dived for cover behind the counter and no sooner had he done so than a succession of rounds whizzed through the air, punching into the walls and furniture all around him.

The shooting ended abruptly and was replaced by raised voices and the screeching of tyres. Dan called out to Michael, but his only reply was the eerie silence of the empty shop. He slowly moved out, inching his way forward and out from cover. As he did so he caught a glimpse of a large black BMW as it sped past the windows at the front.

Dan got up and ran to where his friend had fallen. Adrenaline surged through his body - elated he had survived such an explosive and deadly encounter, and hopeful now that his friend may also be alive.

Michael's body lay at an awkward angle across the display shelves. Fragments of glass and various sized plastic medical containers littered the floor around him. Blood oozed from the exit holes in his back where Dragon Tattoo's bullets had passed through. It mingled with powders and liquids the containers had held, creating a multi-coloured sludge beneath him. His head was twisted to the side, eyes open and staring into space. Dan knelt down and pressed a hand to his neck - praying for a pulse.

On reflection, it had been a stupid thing to do. Michael was dead.