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LATER, REGAN AND THE sexy nurse made their way over to the table where Red, Blue and Bill were sitting, drinking and talking. Regan’s new friend called out to her co-worker to join them. They now had a six-some! The girls went to the bathroom to powder their noses. The four guys started to chat. This is when the second unforgettable thing happened.
While Regan had been dancing, Red, Blue and Bill had clearly gotten around to talking business, drug smuggling. Red later told Regan the gist of the conversation that took place while he got busy on the dance floor.
Bill said to Red, “You guys are into a bit of business with shit, right? You’ll have to think about what I said.”
“Sounds a bit heavy to me,” Red replied.
“You must have a man somewhere.”
Red responded, “It’s no good me saying yes or no until I’ve seen him though, is it?”
“Sure, Ginger, we’re talking about a lot of bread now and in the future. Talking of bread, do you know anyone who will handle jewellery?”
“Warm?”
“Hot.”
“Not really my area,” came Red’s reply.
Bill carried on, telling Red about a con trick to make $100 a day through his version of ringing the changes. Then he reverted to the topic of cocaine. Telling how he paid couriers $500 a trip, evading customs and using fast boats. Red listened and made a mental note of it all. There was also talk about legitimate businesses based in places like Nassau, Barbados, Antigua, Argentina, Panama, Miami, Georgetown Guyana and Vancouver Island.
Regan missed all this because he had been getting ‘hot’ on the dance floor. But no sooner had the girls left to go to the toilet, Red announced, “Ask him. I’m sure he will be okay with it.” He nodded towards Regan, his partner.
Regan thought, but dare not say, what the fuck is he on about!
Blue spoke up, “Bill wants to know if you two can organize bringing a few keys of snow into Europe from Miami.”
Fuck me! Regan thought but managed to keep a poker face.
The girls were away for about thirty minutes so this next conversation happened over ten minutes, more or less.
“Yeah. It can be done,” Regan said.
He paused then added, “Obviously depends on a few things but yeah, it’s a go’er.”
Bill had been quiet since Regan arrived back at the table. It made Regan jump a little when he spoke. Bill broke out from his taciturn shell by drawling on about how he was ‘connected.' And how he was talking to the top echelon of the 'Cartel.' Of course, Regan knew he was referring to the drug gangs of South America. They were some of the most notorious and violent drug cartels in existence. Regan started to feel a little nervous at this point. His earlier ‘lower regions excitement’ now subsided; an ‘excitement’ provoked by his newfound female companion. She had become secondary.
Bill ceased talking just like he started. No warning. No intros and no endings. One minute there were words and then nothing. It unsettled Regan. Total silence took over the whole table. Regan knew few people can deal with silence that goes on for longer than a few seconds. It feels uncomfortable. Many stupid people feel an urgent need to fill the verbal vacuum. Often with crap. Regan knew this was not an occasion to become a stupid person.
All kinds of thoughts started to rush around his head. Regan thought,
What if this? What if that?
Regan had often maintained no one can train cops about such situations or teach them how to react. He knew it’s not possible to go to undercover class to learn how to cope. He also knew calmness is inbuilt. Regan believed you either have it or you don’t. It’s that simple. Perhaps the silence lasted for about one minute. Or longer?
During the whole time Bill and Regan stared at each other. Not in any kind of confrontational way – just staring. Holding eye contact between the two of them. Bill’s cold grey eyes gave nothing away. Regan thought he had the eyes of a killer. He could be a killer. He’s a gangster - part of the mob. At that point Bill’s mouth moved again, no warning, not even a clearing of the throat.
“Are you guys cops?”
Wham! Fuck! Regan thought. The question rattled around inside Regan’s brain. He knew it was often asked when undercover. Regan knew the first time was the worst. The mind raced, Has my cover been blown? Am I a fucking useless undercover cop? Do I look, smell and talk like a cop?
Regan also knew it was a test. He decided to react with aggression, “You fucking what? Yeah, course I am, and you’re the fucking Pope!”
Bill laughed with his facial muscles but not with those fish eyes.
That took Regan by surprise. He didn’t think humour was part of the Canadian’s repertoire.
Then Bill’s killer look returned.
“If you guys are, then...”
The Canadian raised one hand next to Regan’s head. Then he joined his forefinger and middle finger in the shape of a gun and pointed them at Regan. The 'gun' rested on his head so that Regan could feel the tips of Bill’s fingers against his skin.
What followed was a simulated assassination. A ‘double-tap’ from a silenced semi-automatic pistol favoured by professional hitmen the world over. A close range execution.
Regan went cold when he saw the Canadian mouth the silenced spitting sound. Twice, as two imaginary shells splattered his brains out of the gaping exit wounds at the far side of his head. This was personal.
Pop! Pop!
Regan jumped up from his seat, pushing Bill’s hand away. Bill rose too, but Regan’s push unbalanced Bill making him stumble on the chair leg. As Bill staggered backwards, he reached down for the gun in the ankle holster. Regan knew it and clenched his fist ready to strike. He was ready to kick Bill’s hand, too. He was ready to do whatever it took.
By sheer serendipity the girls returned to the table. They had seen nothing. Regan and Bill sat down. The conversation switched to the humdrum. They had another couple of drinks each and the mood was convivial. All six left the She Club about 2 am and a taxi driver dropped them at a deserted illegal drinking den. They carried on drinking until about 6 am. The place served food too, so the night was finished off by all six eating a meal. The mood remained cordial throughout.
Regan’s newfound female companion returned to the hotel with him and stayed. They did not sleep until about 7:30 in the morning as they took plenty of time in getting to know each other well. Regan woke up about 11 am the same day and found his bed empty. She had gone. He showered and looked in the mirror as his back felt painful. She had left her mark – literally, scratches running down both sides of his back from shoulders to waist.
Two unforgettable things in one night! Perhaps three? Regan thought I also danced barefooted!
All four guys left the hotel in Liverpool and drove back to Wales in the van.
