“Exactly.”
“Let’s try and keep an open mind and see what’s what. If there are kids or women who need Galahad, we’ll be all over it. But let’s check it out first before getting all gung-ho.”
“Good plan.” I gripped the cuffs that sat on my belt and imagined them clasped around that asshole, Nigel Strand. And when he was cuffed, just for shits and giggles, I’d crack his jaw and take out a kidney or two. Sick cunt.
We stopped once for coffee, got caught in some sticky motorway traffic, but eventually found ourselves on skinny moor roads surrounded by rolling hills and grazing sheep.
Remote was an understatement.
“According to my investigations, it’s about another mile up this side road.”
Jamie hunkered left and immediately had to slow to navigate potholes.
I stared out of the window. The place was beautiful in an isolated, off-the-beaten-track kind of a way. The sort of place you could properly brainwash people and there would be no one around to talk them down.
Eventually, over a hillock, a settlement emerged. It was fenced in, a proper fence, not an animal enclosure, more like a fortress. From the hill it was easy to see a scattering of houses within it and what seemed to be a few long barns.
A place where secrets were buried deep.
“Must be it,” I said.
“So we just knock?”
“I guess, knock and wing it.” I paused. “There’s one guy I want to speak to. Nigel Strand. Proper asshole and the ringleader. Bible obsessed and totally believes Jesus is going to land soon and they’ll be His first port of call. I saw a picture of him online, serpent in a fucking suit, I tell you.”
“Nut job.”
“That, and I’d put fucking serious cash on it that he’s only in it for the money. Not sure how at this point, but I’ll damn well find out.”
“Sounds like a plan.”
Jamie parked beside tall gates that had three signs nailed onto them.
Keep Out
No Trespassing
Welcome Jesus Our Lord
“They don’t like visitors of the non-messiah kind, huh.” Jamie grunted.
“Tough shit.” I got out of the car and yanked my stab vest into position, then straightened my phone in its holder. A stiff easterly wind blew in, bringing with it the scent of peaty earth and sheep.
“No damn reception here,” Jamie muttered, glancing at his mobile.
“So we’re on our own. Not for the first time.” I winked at him.
He chuckled, obviously remembering a time we took out a rapist and murderer in Blackbird Leys together. It had been fortuitous that we’d been in the right place at the right time, but we’d made the most of it and rid the world of one more scumbag.
His body was never found. Not surprisingly after how we’d disposed of it.
We walked over the hardened mud to the gate.
Jamie pointed to a brass bell. “Want me to ring that?”
“Go for it.” I peered through a crack in the fence. No dogs from what I could see. A few people milling about and a group of kids playing what seemed to be marbles.
Jamie rang the bell. It was loud in the quiet countryside, and the sound clattered over the undulating terrain, echoing into the distance.
