“You gotta be fuckin’ kidding me,” Barry whispered in a deep, gruff smoker’s growl.

Mike held open a small bag. “Two hundred thousand pounds in twenties and fifties. Untraceable. This is for you. We need to burn the fivers and tenners first, make sure they’re properly gone, and then we need to take down the cottage. There’s always tramps sleeping rough in here using tea lights and candles, so we can easily make it look like an accident.”

Barry took the bag of money from Mike. Even though it contained more money than he’d ever had in his life, he couldn’t take his eyes off the mountain of cash piled high in the hearth and he couldn’t quite comprehend burning it. He looked back at the relatively small bag of cash in his hand.

“Papers said you got about thirty million. You’re happy to burn a couple of million here, so you must have plenty left.”

Barry turned and Mike recognized the dead stare; it was the stare Barry got when he was about to take on a job that no one else dared to do.

“I want more, Mike. You couldn’t even have robbed that train if I hadn’t given you the explosives to take out the track—I got 100k for doing that. Now you want me to destroy all the evidence that ties you to the train robbery and all I’m getting is 200k. I want a million.”

Mike smiled nervously. “It’s nowhere near that. The papers exaggerated. And in any case, I’m just one small part of a much bigger gang. They took most of the cash anyway.”

But, as he spoke, his eyes flashed to the green bag sitting on the little two-seater sofa, containing his cut: £5 million in untraceable £20 and £50 notes.

Barry dived at the bag, ripping it open. And the red mist instantly descended. One punch fractured Mike’s lower jaw and sent him flying onto his back. Barry knelt down by Mike’s side and leaned in close.

“I thought we were brothers, Mikey. When I nicked that dynamite for you, I got sacked after the boss found it missing—remember? And you gave me a job to say ‘sorry.’ We had each other’s backs. In the army, we looked after each other, me and you. So, why are you ripping me off now? Eh? How much is in the bag?”

As Mike opened his mouth to answer, a sickening pain shot through his jaw. Mike held up five fingers.

“Five million?”

Mike nodded.

“I’d have been happy with a million, Mikey—but now I’m taking it all.”

Barry got to his feet and turned his back on Mike as he stuffed the small bag of money earmarked for him inside Mike’s bag.

“I’ll still burn down the cottage for you, ’cos I’m not a double-crossing prick like you. I’m a man of my word. It’ll look like an accident and you’ll be in the clear. Course, you’ll be skint but, well, there’s a lesson about sharing in there somewhere.”