Glynn had already made his first call to warn the management of Angels that they were about to be attacked. He just had one more call to make as soon as the van arrived. He flipped down the front of his phone, admiring the neat keypad. Then he waited.

*

As the van turned into Jasper Street Peter could feel his breath catch in his throat. They had arrived!

He looked at the hordes of people further up the street, gathered around the entrance to Angels. His already pounding heart sped even faster but he quashed the feeling that enveloped him as he spoke to his men. Instead he channelled the rush of adrenalin that surged through him.

‘Right, lads, don’t forget we’re jumping straight out as soon as Jonny stops the van. Then we charge through the crowd and go for the bouncers, OK?’

The men nodded and murmured in response.

‘OK, don’t forget, as quick as you can,’ he repeated as the van drew nearer. ‘We need to take the bastards by surprise!’

The van screeched to a halt and the men jumped out, led by Peter. He gripped the crowbar tightly, then sprinted across the pavement. The handle of the machete felt strange pressed up against his leg. But he ignored it, and focused, driven by a crazed burst of energy that pumped through his body.

Just like any other job he told himself. The buzz. The rush. The determination. Briefly noticing the crowd but fixed on the goal.

His sharpened vision zoomed in on the bouncers crowded around the door. Black suits, white shirts, enhanced physique and resolute bearing. He briefly registered his men by his side and heard the screech of the crowd.

Then he was on the bouncers; he and his men pushing them back and into the foyer. Loads of them. And more coming forward. Much more than he expected! Before long he and his gang were boxed in. But it was too late to turn back.

He swung the crowbar, smashing it down onto the nearest bouncer. The man fell back, blood pumping from a gaping gash to the side of his head. Peter’s men fought alongside him, slashing their destructive weapons at the enemy, who were also tooled up.

Two other bouncers went for Peter. He felt their fists and a sharp blow to the head from something hard. Their hands grabbed viciously at his arm. Then the crowbar was gone. He saw yet more bouncers, heaving against him till he fell to the floor.

He was in a daze, the might of oversized feet striking his torso and head. Then a moment’s reprieve as he saw a gap between their legs. He heard the sound of the crowd. Screaming. Shouting. Crying. A siren?