Revenge by Mark A. Cooper Read Free Book Online

of Man U.”
    â€œWilky wasn’t a junky,” Jason said.
    â€œWell, he failed the drug test and then he went into a deep depression. Sorry, mate, it’s true.”
    â€¢ • •
    The following morning, Janice was arguing with her mother. She was upset that there were not any Coco-Bites left. First she blamed Jason for eating them until her mother reminded her that she had eaten them herself after school. She left for school early without saying good-bye and slammed the front door behind her.
    â€œDid I cause that?” Jason asked.
    â€œNo, dear, she is at that age when she knows best. For some reason, she can’t stop eating that cereal. I notice you don’t eat it,” Mrs. Bristow said, trying to straighten Jason’s school tie as he was putting his shoes on.
    â€œI prefer just milk for breakfast. I like to run to school, and I can’t do that on a full stomach,” he said, picking up his schoolbag.
    Jason started jogging to school along the road, and a man in running shorts came up alongside him.
    â€œHello, boyo. I’m with George Young. Take Wilkinson Avenue,” the man said with a broad Welsh accent. He then increased speed and ran on ahead.
    As Jason turned into Wilkinson Avenue, he looked for George. The street was heavily lined with trees and full of parked cars. A black van drove alongside him. When Jason noticed it out of the corner of his eye, it slowed down to his speed.
    It’s got to be SYUI .
    Without even looking, he ran into the street and the side door opened. As it slowed, Jason jumped in and the door was closed behind him.
    â€œJason Steed, good morning, mate. How are ya? Your bleeding grandmother got in a right state over you, she did. She was gonna go and call the ‘Old Bill,’” George said happily. Jason smiled at George and shook his hand. George was overweight and always smelled of body odor and cigarettes.
    â€œI take it you got my message about Saturday,” Jason panted.
    â€œYeah, a bit of a problem…that. Do you know what they’re raising the money for yet?”
    â€œNo, but what do I do about Saturday?”
    â€œYou’ve gotta do it. I know you can kill with your bare hands. You proved yourself in Jakarta. How many did you kill then? Five or six? Although you shot some, so that don’t count.”
    Jason cursed under his breath. “You are joking? I can’t kill some shopkeeper!”
    â€œI don’t want you to kill him—just make it look like it. Kick him around a bit. Behind the counter will be a ‘prop knife.’ Stab him with it.” The van came to a stop.
    â€œWhat’s a prop knife?” Jason asked, concerned.
    â€œIt’s what the actors use on films. It’s telescopic, so it won’t stab him. It will fold up, and a small capsule of animal blood will burst open. Makes a right bloody mess but looks like the real McCoy. Actors normally get a chance to practice. You don’t. You got one shot. The shopkeeper is counting on you with his life. Although to be honest, he doesn’t know about it.”
    â€œWhat if it doesn’t work and Andrew wants to kill him?”
    â€œYou’d better get out, Jason, or you’ll be late for school.”
    â€œYou didn’t answer my question.”
    â€œThere you go now. Remember, it will be behind the counter,” George said, opening the door, putting his hand on Jason’s shoulder, and nudging him out. Jason pulled his arm away. “Come on. You’ll be late for school.”
    â€œI’m not getting out until you answer my question. What do I do? Andrew may even have a gun. Do I stop Andrew or let him murder someone?”
    Again, George tried to push Jason out the van. This time, Jason caught George’s hand and bent his fingers back hard. George slipped off his seat in pain and tried to free his fingers.
    â€œTell me what to do.”
    â€œOkay, let me bloody fingers