Jack was sitting on his bike and finishing a smoke when he got a call from Rob. His gruff voice came over the phone like a growling dog.
"Did you make the drop?"
"Yeah Rob, dead drop in the bins in chinatown, 3 bins down from the Golden Dragon, I know how this is done. I'm not some prospect."
There was a grunt and then the line went dead, ah well at least if he wasn't shouting he was sure he had done it al right. Turning over the engine he throttled the bike back into traffic. On his way home he drifted in and out of thinking about his bed, the new parts and a chicken tikka for dinner. He would probably put the curry on first, install the parts and then head to bed. It was going to be a nice calm evening. Something he didn't really get much of anymore. Pulling into his garage by the flats he turned off the bike and got off. Shutting the door but not locking it so he wouldn't have to unlock it again when he came down with the parts. As he stepped through the door Tony came over.
"Did that bird from earlier find you?"
Tony's voice was soft and for some people quite suave however he couldn't hide a hint of pure stupidity everytime he spoke.
"What bird Tony? I've been working. I wasn't supposed to meet anyone today."
"So I probably shouldn't have told that girl your flat number then?"
Jack ran towards the stairs and up them he ran as fast as he could arriving at his floor he tore down the corridor and shouldered the door. It flew wide open. Bastard thief hadn't even bothered to lock up on the way out. Looking around his room wasn't ransacked but stuff certainly wasn't where he had left it. drawers were opened but not emptied, his bag had been rummaged through and thrown on the floor. But worst of all was the clear lack of custom parts in the sheets on the table. Just over a grand that had cost him and gone in a split second. And only Tony had seen her. This was afucking nightmare. An idea popped into his head. The bitch would have been on the CCTV. Perhaps big brother got it right this time. He stepped out of the room locking the door again though he doubt it would do much good. Going back down stairs he patted Tony on the back and asked to see the CCTV of the girl looking for him so he could go and 'answer her questions.'. Tony happily obliged the way he always did and skimming through the recording Jack made out a hood and some jeans. Perfect. Calling into Rob he mad a few enquiries into fences who would deal in custom parts. They would be pretty rare and a bitch to sell on. Rob could only think of two. Steve Finch and Harry Twat. None of the real names of course but that is what everybody knew them by. By the looks of the girl she had been pretty rough. Harry only dealt in the finer things and expected a bottle of bubbly for every meet so chances are she was going for Steve. Jack had never liked Steve, a man who fancied himself a biker yet had never ridden one in his life. Ah well he needed those parts back, besides any girl who looked that good from behind in a hoody and jeans needed to be seen from the front. No! He thought, need to keep your mind on your bike.
Stepping outside again the air was a little colder than before and he did up his jacket, stretching the emblem on the back. He revved up the Harley once more and moved off into the London traffic. Steve was normally down the King's Head this time of night and was probably in the back room, buying his parts now. He revved up the engine some more. urging the bike to speed up, or at least for the lights to be kind. No point getting pulled up for speeding or running a light. Not with his priors. After what seemed like an age although it was probably only a couple of minutes Jack arrived. Pushing his way through the door he kicked in the back room, nobody in the pub got up. They were used to it and if a Redcoat was doing it, it was serious shit.