He opened a large crate and took out the weapons. Jonnie H. was impressed with them and showed it. The Armalite was handled and admired by them all.

‘What a piece of equipment, eh? I’d fucking love to see the faces in Tesco’s if you went in there with this.’

Danny McAnulty’s voice was almost reverent. ‘You’d certainly cause a bit of a stir, laddie. But these go back after the jump. They’re leasehire, boys, only leasehire.’

He took out three sawn-off shotguns and they were checked over. The men carefully gauged the weight of the guns before choosing one each.

‘These are brand new!’

Eric laughed again. ‘Nothing but the best for us, eh?’ Then he added seriously, ‘I meant what I said. All this equipment goes back after the jump. There’s two small handguns. One is to be given to Georgio and the other is for me. If we have to shoot for anything other than fear, then I’ll use the handgun. Georgio is the jumper so it’s his job to shoot anyone interfering, all right? You lot just shoot to frighten. Now, Danny, you’re all sure of your jobs, aren’t you?’

‘I take the keys out of the cars behind the Merc. Cyril will do the same behind the earthmover. We’ll just throw them into the fields. Once the public see the guns they’ll be all right. Iain here will be the man to set up the bikes while you get the driver from the sweatbox. Jonnie H. will take out the police once the doors are opened. We’re all relaxed and ready to go.’

‘Good, good. Now once we’re past the chop, you lot fuck off as quick as you can, right?’

The three men nodded.

‘We’ll be back in Scotland the night and no one will even know we’ve been gone,’ Danny assured him, grinning.

‘Remember to shout,’ Eric reminded them, ‘it distorts the voice, and keep your hands and faces covered all the time. Especially you, Iain. Your tattoos could give the game away immediately.’

Iain looked down at his hands. He had hate tattooed across his knuckles and ACAB on each wrist. ACAB stood for All Coppers Are Bastards; it was a standard Borstal tattoo from the seventies. He also had a broken line around his neck with ‘Cut Here’ written above it, like an advert in a magazine.

Iain put his hands behind his back like a naughty child and Eric, watching him, smiled. Iain McAnulty had the brain capacity of a flea and the physical strength of a rogue elephant, exactly the kind of person Eric liked to deal with.