‘We often have to move a lot of cash after a busy day with the girls and you know how it is: you have dodgy money, and dodgy people want to steal it from you. Maybe you mind the girls, maybe help us at a few meetings. We just lost two good men—the bastard Home Office deported them—and we need some muscle. You interested, Tomo?’

Tom flashed an easy smile. ‘Yeah, I can help you out, Luka. As long as I get a few quid my way.’

‘Good man. I trust you, Tomo. A fellow Serb who can fight. I’ll give you a call soon, yeah?’ Luka stood, indicating the meeting was over. They shook hands, and then Luka locked Tom in a light embrace.

Aleks stared at Tom and growled, ‘Always remember though: you cross us and we will fuck you up. You wouldn’t be the first. The Branko family won’t be crossed. Ever.’ He smiled, but Tom could feel the conviction and menace behind the expression.

Tom shrugged. ‘Hey, guys. Look at my face: who wouldn’t trust me? I’m a man of my word and we’re all Serbs. If that’s not enough, I can fuck off any time. A man can always find ways to make money.’

The brothers laughed and Aleks said, ‘We’ll be in touch. Stay available. We’re busy, there’s lots of money to be made.’

They nodded a farewell and left the café without further comment.

Tom sat with the remainder of his coffee, smiling to himself. He fished his work phone out of his pocket and tapped out a text to Liam.

‘I’m in.’

8

Three Weeks Later

After the meeting in the café, Tom found himself accepted as a full member of the gang. The days and weeks of groundwork and detailed preparation had proven essential, fully validating the decision to go for a slow-time infiltration. It was perfect that the socialising and MMA had led to the Brankos approaching him to help with their criminality: not only from a legal but also a safety standpoint.