Gross Domestic Product: 25

Chapter 25.

Alec had dozed off somewhere just past Manchester and awoke as the back doors of the van were clunked open and cold morning daylight burst in. It took him a second or two to come to terms with where he was. Connor Yeardley was quietly talking to an agent who was feverishly typing away on a keyboard. Alec groaned, his neck seemed like it might snap in two it was so stiff. He’d nodded off at an uncomfortable angle. He wasn’t happy about that, it used to be he could beat the night no problem, he’d stay up for days sometimes, now he struggled to keep awake after midnight. Getting old was not something he would tolerate. If there was a way to reverse what that old bastard time did, he’d find it. “Any coffee gaun’?” He asked.

“You’re up.” said Gordon Skinner, grinning. He sat across from Alec and in the morning light looked uglier than ever.

“Jesus, whit a fuckin’ sight tae wake up tae.” Alec grimaced.

Skinner blew him a kiss and chuckled. “Lighten up Alec, we’re in London, we’ll have this sorted in no time.”

“We’d better, this whole thing is a bloody liberty.” Alec said.

“It’s a bloody liberty that neither of you are in jail.” Connor said.

“Aye alright. Did ye find the cunt yit?” Alec asked.

“Nope. We’ve got the Met out looking, as well as dozens of operatives from the Department, but it’s a big city. Would have been much easier to contain in Glasgow.”

“We get it Yeardley, we fucked up.” Skinner sighed. He gave Alec a look and rolled those bulging wet eyes of his.

“I don’t think you get it. You ever heard of Wenzong?” Yeardley asked.

“Should I have?” Skinner asked.

“Yaun Dynasty, right? Wan of the Mongol Khans.”

“That’s right, you know any more?”

“Not much, no.”

“Well, Wenzong was a bit of a moderniser in comparison to his predecessors, but he had an advantage over his competitors, an officer called El Temur. This officer was responsible for Wenzong being established as emperor for a while. Wenzong had to abdicate because of his brother Kusala who had powerful allies. However El Temur poisoned the new Emperor and went of a bit of a killing spree riding the court of the loyalists to the new Emperor which restored Wenzong to power, but by then Wenzong was no moderate. They bribed warlords, lavished gifts upon the Golden Horde and encouraged a firm rule of violence and pressurised trade.”

“So whit?” Alec replied.

“El Temur, was not merely a wily officer. In fact some of the records we have state that the man was the personification of Er Kishi, the somewhat Mongol equivalent of Satan. It was said that wherever he went he was followed by his own horde of black rats, clever creatures that would do his bidding and help destroy his enemies. We have evidence of this, and evidence of El Temur actually using rat-war, releasing the black plague against his foes. He himself may have died from it, but it was around that time that the plague almost depopulated Europe and India. This is the sort of thing that you let go. We’re not talking about some serial killer, we’re talking about a real threat to all of humanity.”

Skinner just breathed out a sigh of shock and frustration. Alec chuckled. “Auld wives tales. Just like it wis spread because the Pope declared cats as servants of Satan. Stories urnae real evidence.”

“We’re not taking any chances.” Was all Yeardley had to say about that.

“Aye? Then what are you doing about Dunnoch? That place has been out of control for nearly twenty years.”

Yeardley’s eyes widened, it was his turn to be shocked. “Dunnoch? What do you know about that?”

“Just that I escaped from the place when it all went down.” Skinner said, revealing nothing.

Yeardley shook his head. “No one gets in or out of Dunnoch.”

“Except for me, and for the lad I bought the lamp from,” Skinner said. “Who knows how many others?”

“You’re from Dunnoch?”

“That’s what I’m saying, a refugee.” Skinner answered.

“That… well that’s a different situation entirely and one that we have contained, after a fashion. It’s not a concern.”

“Tell that to everyone who’s went missing.” Skinner said. To that Yeardley said nothing.

The day was a nightmare of being cramped up inside the van, crap take-away food and a constant hubbub of voices, phone calls, printers and fax machines groaning. By lunchtime Alec had a splitting headache and was becoming increasingly impatient. “Where are the rest of my boys?” he asked.

Connor, who was scanning through a long line of printed out sheets glanced up and said “They’re in the other van, over in the East End.” He went back to the sheets.

“Getting bored, Alec?” Skinner asked.

Alec didn’t answer him, he just sat thinking about Skinner, his face was so ugly, yet he definitely had some kind of grotesque charisma. The fact that he was “in the know” wasn’t a surprise and he wondered why the two of them had been at each other’s throats for years, then he remembered and felt both irritated and embarrassed. “You made me shit myself, made me disgrace myself in public. We’re no friends.”

Skinner sighed. “Never said we were. However, you disgraced yourself that night, I just put the cherry on the cake.”

“Thought you were the big man, eh? Puttin’ the old man in his place.”

“That’s not it at all. You were workin’ yourself into a rage which would’ve no doubt ended up with me dead. I just needed something to divert your attention, to short circuit that,”

Alec laughed at that. “Fuck me you’re a conniving cunt. Whit made you think I wouldnae come after you?”

“Nothing, I just wanted to get out of their alive and not ruin Terry Wilson’s wedding. Terry’s a good bloke.” Skinner shrugged.

“That’s true. His brother though? Pfff.” Alec replied.

“Denny was alright. He just went a bit mental. That was partially my fault.” Skinner said, morosely.

“I hid my suspicions, did you make him kill those tramps?” Alec asked.

“No. He got a bit too into it, was munching acid like sweets as well. I’m not the monster you think I am.”

“What about Harper and Mental Dunkie? You had something to do with that?”

Skinner shook his head. “Nope. Dunkie was throwing his dick about, tried to muscle into my racket, sent Harper and Willie Barr to the wrong house. Next door as a matter of fact. The lads heard Barr blasting away with the shotgun, but what they stole? No idea. To be honest Alec, we’ve been on the same side in the main.”

“How so?” Alec asked.

“We both hate The Sisters, both want them gone.”

“Well aye,” Alec admitted. “But that’s no’ likely tae happen, eh?”

“Not while we’re at each other’s throats.” Skinner said.

Alec thought about that. It was possible that an alliance between them would be enough to wrest control of the city back from those spooky hags, but it was easy for him to think that, Skinner had little to lose. Besides, Alec had other longer term plans and an alliance with Skinner, after the bad blood between him might make him look weak. “Perhaps,” he said. “Let’s focus on this though, eh?”

Skinner gave him a ‘fair enough’ nod.

They passed the afternoon hours actively trying to assist Yeardley and his colleagues of Department 23 locate Tommy Bryce. London was a big city, plenty of places to hide. So many cars that it was a difficult task to identify one. By ten o’clock that evening they were all exhausted and decided that it was time to let the B team take over for a few hours. Yeardley instructed his driver to meet up with the other van in a street near Regent’s Park.

Alec was just glad to be able to stretch his legs and have a smoke as they waited for the other van to turn up. The street was busy with cars, most parked outside the several hotels. Skinner was concerned about something and walked up to speak to Yeardley. Alec sidled over, just in time to hear Skinner saying. “Something’s not right with the lamp.”

“What do you mean?” Yeardley asked.

“Come and check it. The lights have changed colour.”

That was enough to get Yeardley moving. He dashed to the van just as the other turned up. Neil and Jimmy spilled out onto the street and neither of them looked particularly happy. Behind them Willie and Donny emerged and Willie walked up to Alec as he lit a cigarette.

“This is a fuckin’ liberty.” Willie said.

“Well as soon as we find the fucker we can go home.” Alec said.

“Like findin’ a fuckin’ needle in a haystack.” Willie sighed.

Connor came out the back of the van holding a large golden lamp glowing brightly with red light. As he walked towards the pavement the light brightened even more. Skinner was smiling. “Gentlemen, I think that we...”

He was cut off by Jimmy. “Fur fuck sake!” he exclaimed loudly enough that passers-by looked at him. “There’s Tommy’s car, right there!” He said pointing.

Alec laughed. “How about that for a coincidence?” It was time to end this.