BooksBarbecue
Back The Jump
Chapters (52)
  1. Title Page
  2. Copyright Page
  3. Dedication
  4. Acknowledgements
  5. BOOK ONE
  6. Chapter One
  7. Chapter Two
  8. Chapter Three
  9. Chapter Four
  10. Chapter Five
  11. Chapter Six
  12. Chapter Seven
  13. Chapter Eight
  14. Chapter Nine
  15. Chapter Ten
  16. Chapter Eleven
  17. Chapter Twelve
  18. Chapter Thirteen
  19. Chapter Fourteen
  20. Chapter Fifteen
  21. Chapter Sixteen
  22. Chapter Seventeen
  23. Chapter Eighteen
  24. Chapter Nineteen
  25. Chapter Twenty
  26. Chapter Twenty-One
  27. Chapter Twenty-Two
  28. Chapter Twenty-Three
  29. Chapter Twenty-Four
  30. Chapter Twenty-Five
  31. BOOK TWO
  32. Chapter Twenty-Six
  33. Chapter Twenty-Seven
  34. Chapter Twenty-Eight
  35. Chapter Twenty-Nine
  36. Chapter Thirty
  37. Chapter Thirty-One
  38. Chapter Thirty-Two
  39. Chapter Thirty-Three
  40. Chapter Thirty-Four
  41. Chapter Thirty-Five
  42. Chapter Thirty-Six
  43. Chapter Thirty-Seven
  44. Chapter Thirty-Eight
  45. Chapter Thirty-Nine
  46. BOOK THREE
  47. Chapter Forty
  48. Chapter Forty-One
  49. Chapter Forty-Two
  50. Chapter Forty-Three
  51. Chapter Forty-Four
  52. Epilogue

Anthony was arranging a meet with a man who could get you out of a Turkish prison, a Thai prison, or who could snatch your child off the street anywhere in the world. He was an ex-paratrooper, an ex-mercenary . . . and he knew the prison system backwards and forwards.

Alan felt the adrenaline rushing through his veins. He had been too long out of the ballgame. Now he was back and loving every second of it.

Once the jump was actually up and running, he could relax and enjoy the spectacle.

All he had to do now was phone Donna Brunos and arrange to meet her for dinner to explain everything to her. He could have done it over the phone but he didn’t want to. He kidded himself he didn’t trust the phones. Privately, he knew he just wanted to see her. She was part of the excitement.

As he dialled her number he pictured her in his bedroom, without the towel and without her inhibitions . . .

He wished he could envisage her without Georgio.

Chapter Thirty

Chapter Thirty

Little Dicky was a seventy-year-old gay man. He was only five foot one, hence the name. He was thin to the point of emaciation, and his hair was long gone. His finely chiselled features had aged well, though, and coupled with very expressive brown eyes made him look like anyone’s idea of a dear old man. In reality, Little Dicky was a listener.

Instead of being paid by the police for information, Little Dicky traded with the bad boys. If you wanted to know where a scam was going down, Little Dicky was the man to ask - especially if you were the person organising it. Dicky found out all he could and reported back. That way you had an idea of who was blabbing in your organisation, and whom you could trust. Through a network of whores, pimps, gays, robbers, burglars and publicans, Little Dicky heard everything, and anything he didn’t hear about, wasn’t worth knowing. It was a lucrative business. Word on the street was that Little Dicky never talked to the filth, and that made everyone, including Little Dicky, feel safe. Dicky knew his very life depended on discretion.

He turned up at Nick’s place at five-fifteen, smiling and friendly, like a little brown teddy bear. Nick, however, knew different. Little Dicky had used a knife since childhood. It was rumoured he could cut anyone, anywhere, without even taking his eyes off the pavement. He was a bundle of hatred behind his big cheesy smile and amiable countenance. You didn’t grass on your own for fifty years without being able to take care of yourself.

‘Hello, Dicky boy. How’s things?’ Nick’s voice was normal. He knew Dicky too well to play the game with him.

Little Dicky shrugged, a charming, graceful gesture. ‘OK, man. Yourself?’