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2006-08-16
Dan bent down to him. “Just as well you were standing there, or they might have smashed that window. ”“Piss off you cunt. That fucking hurt. ”“Got to give them credit. It was a bloody good shot. I could never throw that well when I was their age. ”“That was because you never had the practise these little shits have had. ”Dan helped Carl to his feet “True, there is that side. ”Carl experimentally moved his arm, wincing as he did so. “Don’t believe it. The little bastard managed to miss my vest. ”“Count yourself lucky that he missed your head. Just think off all the claret that would have flown. ”“You know, sometimes you’re a right barrel of laughs”Dan shrugged his shoulders “If he had, it would have been me standing in front of the super. Explaining why we were staring into the window of a TV shop.
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You on the other hand, would be in a nice comfortable bed surrounded by pleasant young women. ”“You and I obviously don’t go to the same hospital”“Do you want me to call the station for a landing rover?”Carl paused his cursing for thought. “Nah, I’ll be all right. No need to suffer the indignity of finishing our beat early in a squad car. Plus,” Carl checked his watch “It’ll be crazy Eddie driving. ”Dan sucked in his breath through clenched teeth, “Good point. Let’s walk back. ” As they walked back to the station, Carl stretched his bruised arm muscles and reflected on his seemingly mad decision to join the R. U. C. Definitely not one of his better ideas. It was with great relief that Carl stepped into the shower. The rest of the day had been spent filling out paperwork. Another chore he detested. Standing under the hot spray in his cramped flat, he looked at his burgeoning bruise.
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It was starting to look impressive. There was something fascinating about how the black, purple, yellow and tinges of red intermixed. He was going to have to consider another line of work. That was the third time this week he had been stoned by kids. It would not be too bad but it was only Tuesday. It was not even the marching season. That was something else to look forward too. Carl turned the tap off and stepped out of the shower. Wrapping a towel round his waist, he headed for the fridge. Removing a Becks, he popped the cap on the edge of the kitchen table. Rooting around the junk and unpaid bills on the table, he retrieved the TV remote. The news was on. As ever, the presenter ran through a list of those poor souls, the victims of punishment beatings. That was followed by a list of bombs diffused and arms caches found. Carl threw the empty bottle in the general direction of the bin.
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The news presenter briefly mentioned world affairs. Carl looked at the news pictures of the Middle East crisis. “Gazza Strip? That’s bloody Butlins compared the streets outside. ” He retrieved another bottle from the well-stocked fridge. The next day passed relatively quietly. Only three armed robberies, one rape, two punishment beatings, one suicide and the usual assortment of day-to-day crime and social drama. Carl stopped off at Tesco on the way home from the station. Filling his trolley with beer, he threw some food in, more as an afterthought. There was a Man. U. match on TV tonight and he had every intention of being drunk by the end of it. The match had just started when his phone rang. He tried to ignore it in the hope that the caller would piss off. The caller was determined. Finally, to irate to ignore it, he took the call.
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“Carl?”Carl recognised the voice immediately. It was his boss. He sighed. “Yes”“There is trouble brewing. I want all officers back in work and ready for riot detail in figures ten. Got that?”Carl looked mournfully at the beer and the TV, “Yeah, I’ll be there”“Good. Get going. ”Carl put the phone down, looked at it for a moment, and then hurled his half-drunk bottle across the room. “FUCK SAKE!”He grabbed his jacket and car keys. The glass from the broken bottle crunched underfoot. Ignoring the beer running down the wall and glass underfoot, he headed out the door. There was a heavy police presence on the streets as he headed towards the police station. It looked like they had drafted spare Land Rover Snatches from other stations. They sat in small groups in quiet streets, three and a half litre V8s purring away. The commanders had obviously been told to stay out of sight of the trouble, in an effort to avoid any escalation.
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Not that four ton of armoured police Rover could blend in discretely. The station resembled a kicked ant’s nest as he pulled into the secure compound. Quickly parking his car, he ran to the main building. On the way to the briefing room, he stopped by his locker to retrieve his riot gear. He could change during the briefing. In the locker room, several other officers were collecting kit. The briefing room was full of officers in various states of undress. No one paused when the boss walked in. Carl paid very little attention to the briefing and the issued orders. Experience had taught him that they would change at least four times before he got to the base line. He only looked up when he heard his name called. “Carl?”“Yip” He called back. The boss looked at him. “I want you running as a baton gunner on this one. Dan?” Dan looked over “I want you as Carls shield arm, okay” Dan nodded his assent.
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The boss carried on giving his orders. By the time orders were issued most people in the room were fully dressed in riot gear. Dan caught up with Carl in the armoury queue. “So we get the observer job. Just as well, at the rate you’ve been attracting missiles lately. ”Carl signed for his sidearm and the baton gun. As he waited for Dan to collect and sign for his weapon, he cracked the breech and gave the baton gun a quick once over. He snapped the barrel shut as Dan approached. “You look like you fully intend on using that tonight. Got some pent up aggression you need to get rid of?”Carl caressed the barrel “I was about to watch the match before this kicked off. I hope it’s not a bloody false alarm. I hope one of those little shits is out there, I want to rearrange his face. ” They were not allowed to target above chest height, but they had gotten around that legal obligation by firing at the ground just in front of the target. Rubber bullets had a tendency to bounce, so if it hit solid ground in front of the target, there was a very good chance of the ricochet catching the unfortunate victim, either in the face or under the chin. If hit in the face, the unfortunate soul would promptly collapse and would not rise for some time to come.
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The gunner on the other hand, could simply claim he missed and the ricochet hit was accidental. On the way to the magazine, they collected their radios. Standing in the cue the checked each other’s gear for security and carried out a communications check. Then it was out into the yard and into the Snatches. The trip to the planed base line was uneventful as was the disembarking from the vehicles. The trouble was a stand off between a group of royalist and loyalist supporters. The disagreeing factions ignored the police, who were quite content to stay out of the way in the forlorn hope that the two rival sides would get bored and disperse. Carl took up position in a doorway, Dan covering his exposed side with the riot shield. The only objects being thrown were taunts and insults. That could easily and rapidly change. After ten minutes, Carl was starting to get bored. So, obviously were the potential rioters. Who were starting to disperse in small numbers. Carl was pissed off. All that effort had come to nought and he had missed the match.
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Dan at his side groaned. Carl looked round to see what he had spotted. Behind them, pulling into the street they were using, were several military snatches and a Saxon. Carl brightened, a smile spreading across his face. Some fool in management had just carried out the equivalent of throwing water on a chip pan fire. The crowd, which had been dispersing, noticed the new arrivals. With almost military precision, both opposing sides turned as one to the police line. The police line, which had been ignored until now, was now under the scrutiny of a united front. Dan lent close to Carls ear “Uhh, Ohh”Realising that the situation was steamrolling out of control, their boss got on the loudhailer. His order to disperse was treated with contempt from the crowd that had, few minutes ago, been at each other’s throat.
The military moved up front to take position in front of the police. Carl looked to Dan “Oh well” He cracked the gun and inserted a baton round in the barrel “Here we go!”As soon as the military moved in front of the police, all hell broke loose. The first physical object thrown award, went to some householders’ garden gnome. It was no sooner airborne than the rest of the garden followed suit. Within a short space of time the air was full of rocks, garden furniture, bits of fences, a shed (remains of) and anything a person could physically throw.
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This by the look of things was quite a lot. The police line, under orders, dropped back and left the squaddies to the barrage. “You know,” Carl turned to speak to Dan, while he watched with interest, as two rioters charged the military line with what looked like a concrete birdbath held between them. “You can always trust the military to fuck things up”Dan, watching the same two rioters, nodded in agreement. “It’s almost as good as the football. They’re doing well” The two-birdbath holders had not only smashed a plastic riot shield, but also carried on into the unfortunate holder of the shield. “I bet he’ll have bruises worse than yours tomorrow. ”Carl winced in sympathy. “How long do you reckon till the first petrol bomb?”“Too late, here it comes”Sure enough, a passage opened up in the crowd, and a balaclava-wearing rioter launched his cargo towards the military line. The bottle bounced against a shield and laid spinning on the ground, unbroken. “Wahey, spot the amateur!”A second bottle sailed through the air, and shattered on the ground at the base of the shield line. A wall of flame and smoke consumed the area. The affected shield bearers stepped back, tapped the bottom of their shields on the ground to extinguish the flames, and then stepped forward. Only to be petrol bombed again. Casualties were starting to build up on both sides.
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The white helmets of paramedics visible on both sides of the shield wall. Dan followed Carls gaze. “Brave bastards, aren’t they. ”The weight of numbers and casualties was visibly starting to make the military line crumble. The mob spotted this and surged forward with renewed vigour. The military commander tried to regain momentum by waving the snatches and the saxon forward. The snatches sped forward through holes in the shield wall but the saxon failed to move. The crowd having run from the snatches advance noticed that there was no support and surged back to the snatches. A more switched on sub commander, spotting the danger the snatches were in, ordered his men forward to give support. The military line fragmented, with rioters climbing over the snatches, trying to force their way in. From Carl’s position, it looked a chaotic mess. Then the command came over the radio. They were taking over. The police line re-formed behind the military and advanced. Sheltering behind Dan’s shield, Carl followed the advance.
The police line pushed well in front of the military, to give them the space to regroup and deal with their casualties. Over the net, Carl was given a target. He slipped the barrel between two shields and took aim. He was just squeezing the trigger when he noticed the crowd starting to split. Smiling in malicious glee, he shifted his aim and waited. A rioter ran forward wielding a petrol bomb; Carl aimed off and squeezed the trigger. The baton gun gently kicked and with a soft pop fired the plastic round. Carl watched the lump of white plastic sail gracefully threw the air. At the last moment, the bomber spotted the round and raised his arm in defence. The incoming round missed the upraised arm but shattered the bottle and continued into the bomber. The liquid contents splashed over the bomber and a rioter standing next to him. In pain, the bomber dropped the remaining bottleneck containing the flaming cloth. As the neck dropped passed his torso, the rag ignited the bombers petrol soaked attire. Instantly the bomber was consumed in a pillar of fire, which leapt to the soaked rioter standing next to him. Dan lent over to Carl again “Bloody good shot young man”Carl looked round, a smile across his face “Well thank thee, kind sir.
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”Taking good use of the sudden confusion in the mobs ranks, the police line ran up to and over the hapless bomber. As they passed, some officers took the chance to put the boot into the two downed rioters. Now that they had momentum, the police line pushed into the crowd, beating as they went. They kept up the pressure, splitting the mob into two, then into smaller groups. The small groups were easy pickings for the pickup squads in surrounding streets. Once the unravelling of the mob had started, it quickly spread until there was very little resistance. The police and military units started to pick up the pieces and head home. Back at the station morale was high. There had been very few casualties amongst the police line and they had been relatively minor. Carl handed in his ammunition and weapons. Knowing that the next day would be spent filling out paperwork, and a report on why he had discharged the baton gun. Putting his gear in his locker, he headed home, smelling faintly of C. S. gas, petrol, diesel, sweat and other unpleasant odours. Entering his flat, he stripped and headed for the shower.
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Once showered, he set his alarm and went straight to bed. The next day, was as expected, spent filling out various forms in duplicate and triplicate. Tired and a little bit pissed off he headed back home. After the previous night, the streets were unsettled. Another riot looked likely. Not in the mood, he left his mobile in the flat and headed off to the pub. Inside, he gratefully ordered a pint and went to a corner to watch the big screen and get drunk. It was half-time and he was just starting his third when a figure sat opposite him. “Hi, you have the look of a man on a mission. ”Carl looked at his pint, then at her. “Sorry?”“You have ‘Bad day at work’ written all over you. ”It was dark in his corner. The reason he had sat there in the first place. Hard to make out her features as it was, he was acutely aware that the woman opposite was no ogre. “Sat looking at too much paperwork, for too long.
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” Carl supplied. “Ahh, the paperwork demon. ” Carl nodded. ‘Typical,’ Carl thought ‘Go out to pull, nothing. Aim to avoid women and get drunk and hey presto!’ Aloud “So do you wish to join me in misery?”“No. You just looked in need of cheering up. ”“Oh God! I’m being attacked by an undercover nun. ”She laughed, “I’m not that straight laced. ”“Arghh, worse. A Jehovah’s Witness. ”“Now you’re just being silly”“A Jesuit?”“No, but I was once a Catholic schoolgirl”“Whoa! I have heard stories about them”She leant forward over the table “Want to see if they are true?”Carl leant forward as well “Isn’t it the male that’s supposed to be forward”“Why?” she enquired “Its 2003, year of the condom and pill. Are woman not allowed to have one night stands, or is that a men only prerogative?”“I am all for equality”“In that case. Your place or mine. ”Carl thought about the state of his flat “Yours”The woman leant back, slid her half-finished drink to the middle of the table and stood. Carl followed suit.
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He caught up with her and slipped an arm round her. As they left the pub, he spoke again. “I don’t even know your name” Under the light of the streetlights, he noticed that she was in her early twenties and not a bad looker. “Do you need to know?” She turned and kissed him on the lips. A black cab pulled up alongside, she broke the kiss and climbed in. He followed. Inside they resumed their kissing. Carl slipped a hand up her inner thigh, under her dress. He reached her panties; she opened her legs wider to give him more room. She in turn reached down to caress his erection through the material of his trousers. Carl was aware of the cab slowly coming to a halt. They disentangled themselves from each other. Carl glanced at the meter and pulled some notes from his pockets. “Keep the change,” He told the cabby. As she stopped at the door and rummaged in her handbag for the key, Carl slid both hands up her legs and under her dress.
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He caressed her checks then moved his hands round to her front. She paused when she raised her key to the lock as his hands slipped under the elastic of her pants. His hands caressed the flesh of her outer lips. As she inserted her key into the lock, so Carl slipped his fingers deep into her. She twisted her key and opened the door. Stepping into her house, Carls fingers slipped from her. She turned to look at him. Carl raised a hand to his mouth, and sucked on the fingers that had been in her. She smiled, turned and walked further into the house. Carl followed, closing the door behind him. She led the way up the stairs, into a bedroom. Carl entered the bedroom and embraced her. His tongue probing deep into her mouth. His hands moved up to her shoulders, and slipped the straps of her dress off her shoulders. With a little help, the dress fell in a material ring around her feet.
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He stepped back to look at her. His evening had most definitely been a turn up for the books. She stood there, a mischief ness smile on her lips. Clad in matching bra and brief set, decorated with little flowers.
Under the bedroom light, clad in only skimpy lingerie, she was indeed quite a stunner. Her hands rose and helped divest him of his jacket and shirt. He removed his shoes and socks, then removed his trousers and boxers as one. His erection standing proud, he stepped forward and embraced her again. She held him tight against her, rubbing her stomach against his erection. Carl could take it no longer and all but dragged her to the bed, throwing her roughly onto the duvet. As she lay there, she opened her legs wide. The material of her gusset pulled tight over her outer lips. Carl wasted no time in getting between her thighs. His cock pushing the material of her pants between the folds of her flesh. He kissed her deeply again, as she wrapped her legs around his waist, pressing his erection against her panty clad folds.
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He lent his weight on one arm and pulled the strap of her bra off her shoulder. He continued to pull the strap down her arm, freeing an almost perfect breast. As it popped clear of the material, he disengaged his mouth from hers and took the firm breast in his mouth. His tongue played with the nipple before he sucked the flesh back into his mouth. His teeth lightly grazed her flesh then he allowed the breast to escape the confines of his mouth. As his mouth explored the valley between her breasts, his hands freed the other breast from its confines. As it came free, he treated it as he had treated the other. His lust making him more impatient, Carl left her breasts alone and moved his head to between her legs. He briefly licked her through her panties but was desperate for the ultimate goal. He grasped the edges of the material with both hands and drew the material down her shapely legs. Once clear, he threw the pants into a corner of the room. Carl positioned himself over her, and without further ado, slid straight into her welcoming warmth. It had been a while since he had last slept with a woman. Even longer since, he had slept with one so beautiful. Downstairs, the front door opened and after a brief pause, it quietly shut again.
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Upstairs in the throes of passion and lust, Carl never noticed. The girl tightened her cunt muscles around his shaft. Carl had to admit that she was a truly amazing fuck. He was starting to hope that this would not just be a one off. He bent down to kiss her again. She opened her mouth in invitation. The bedroom door flew open with a bang. Carl looked round in surprise as four masked men burst into the room. “OH FUCK!” Carl tried to get off the bed, but the girls legs, wrapped tightly around his back, hampered him. By the time he had gotten clear, they were upon him. The closest masked intruder swung a baseball bat. The bat connected with the side of his head. Stunned, he collapsed on all fours onto the floor. The other three reached him and started to beat him with baseball bats. Carl curled up into a foetal position as the four men continued to beat him.
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Hands and arms covering his face and head, he heard the sharp crack of breaking bones. Sickened by the knowledge that they were his. Barely conscious, two of the men grabbed him under the armpits and lifted him up. Through blood and the haze of immanent unconsciousness, he saw the girl. Still lying on the bed, she was watching him intently, a smile played across her lips. Her hands were busy between her legs, her fingers delving deep into her. One of the masked men stepped up behind Carl and brought his bat down on the back of Carls head. Carl came round. His head hurt, his whole body hurt. His jaw was not sitting right, so that was almost certainly broken, as was a cheekbone. He could only open one eye. He wished he had not. He was in the back of a transit van; one of the masked men was in view. He could feel movement, so they were travelling somewhere. His ears were not working, as he could hear nothing.
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The transit went over a pothole and Carls head banged against the bare floor. He passed out again. Groggily, he came round. This time he was supported on either side by a masked man. He was suddenly aware that they were standing in the open, illuminated by the transits headlights. Carl tried to look up as a figure stepped into view in front of him. The masked figure looked at Carl as he calmly inserted shells into a pump action shotgun. The figure blatantly chambered a shell and stepped forward. Carl felt terror as he had never felt before. The figure aimed the shotgun at his left leg. Carl wanted to desperately pass out, or even better, wake up. He watched as the shotgun but kicked into the figures shoulder. Carl did not feel an increase in pain, only a tilt in view, as he collapsed left and the man on that side had to carry his weight. Amazed that he was still conscious, Carl watched the barrel swing left to his right leg. Detached he watched as the shotgun bucked again.
His head rolled forward and he looked down at his naked body and at the mess of where his knees had been. He threw up. The convulsions sending waves of pain along his broken ribs. His vomit pooled in his smashed jaw. The agony was intense. He gratefully passed out again. He awoke again. Daylight shone down upon him. He cracked the only eye that was working. Something about the view was not right. His vision was blurry. He tried to wipe his eye, but neither arm would move. There was a terrible pressure across his chest. He blacked out again. He came to again.
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His body was afire. Breathing was proving difficult. He tried to move again, nothing. He collected his strength, and slowly managed to turn his head to the left. Blankly he stared at the reason neither arm would move. His arm was stretched out ninety degrees to his body and nailed to a plank through the wrist. Knowing that his other wrist would be nailed to the other end of the plank, all strength left his body and his head rolled onto his chest. He awoke again, not even realising he had passed out. He had no strength to raise his head. Slowly his vision swam in and out of focus. He appeared to be about fifteen feet above the ground on what appeared to be either, a wooden telegraph or electricity pole. Detach fully, he noticed that his ankles were crossed and that a spike had been driven through them into the wood behind. Unnoticed, a crow landed on his head. It looked around then pecked hungrily at the open scalp wound in front of it. AUTHORS NOTEThe Dark Tails series was never intended to be erotic, that is why they are written under the D.
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Ts heading. For those that are unaware, (And this is very basic history lesson, so do not start sending me essays) The Catholics had a small disagreement with the Protestants. The police could not cope so the military were called in for support. The military typically fucked it up and ended up, not being the intended peacekeepers, but as targets. Young girls/women DO pick up members of the security forces (Mainly soldiers new into theatre, as the local police are wiser) DO take them home/ to quiet, secluded areas. Where they ARE ‘surprised’ by masked men. It is known in province as the ‘honey trap’The severity of the punishments vary, from going for a very scary drive and being dumped a long way from barracks or thrown naked from a car/ van at camp gates, to beatings of various degrees of severity. For an unlucky few, this might include ‘knee capping’ (The discharge of weaponry to joints, pre-dominantly knees. ) People HAVE been crucified against fences and telegraph poles (The nature of the troubles means that crucifixion takes on a deeper meaning). For a small minority, the punishment is purposefully fatal. It is not just the military, which is targeted. Those that step out of line are similarly warned, being either opposing terrorist faction members or grasses/squealers within factions. As a result, N. I surgeons are well known as being among the best at knee surgery in the world. Riots, punishment beatings, arms and explosive finds are common occurrences.
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As such, the populace have learned to live with it. Only large riots or beatings of a particularly vicious nature make the news and an even smaller amount of them, make headline news in Britain. (Some of this is caused by reporting restrictions/censorship placed by the British Government)‘Snatch’ is a slang term for the Land Rover 110 (Armoured). Commonly seen in various colours and guises around NI (as well as Bosnia/Kosovo etc) Designed for the streets of NI its adaptability and versatility found many other uses and users. Even the B. B. C has a white fleet that its reporters use to get safely around various trouble spots in the world. ‘Saxon’ is a larger armoured vehicle capable of carrying more men than a snatch. .
