Early Morning knock
by Juno Lister
I was awaken by banging at my front door and a familiar voice shouting
"Signor Lister wakey up you come now".
I checked the clock it was only five o'clock in the morning. I'd finished with Guard Hunt-Fawshaw late into the night and had written most of my report when I slumped wearily over it, only awakening when the candle burned down and I made my way to bed. I was not due to start with the guards again until lunchtime so who was at my door? I opened it to find Faye Estata the gas light girl standing on my doorstep.
"Guard Hunt -Fawshaw says you come a now to a barracks, have special job"
I wondered why Faye had come to get me it, was still dark out so her morning round wouldn't have started, why would she have been with Hunt-Fawshaw? As my curious journalistic mind asked these questions she gave me an embarrassed smile and walked off.
I hurried to the barracks; Butterfly Street looked unusual at that time, the temporary lull when most people are either asleep or blind drunk. Street hawkers aren't up yet and Sanny Tizer the street cleaner was out whistling cheerfully to various calls of ‘shut up’ from drunks who couldn't find their way home and were slumped in doorways as they started to arise from their drunken stupor.
There was however no lull at the barracks where I found six guards (Hunt-Fawshaw among them) in the court yard huddled around a tall middle aged man wearing a very smart brown suit. He wore it very untidily indeed. His hair was longer than any of the guards and his grey moustache was bushy and yellow, the guards were calling him Sarge as he held audience with them.
"Who's this geezer?" The man looked me over with a sneer and spat out his words with a ton of gravel in his voice.
"This is Juno Lister, a journalist shadowing us for an article in the Herald" Hunt-Fawshaw cheerfully replied.
I stepped forward to offer my hand but the sergeant looked me up and down and told me in no uncertain terms
"You don't know me…you ‘aven't seen me, you do not report you saw me! I work in the shadows, I do the dirty work, coax out the rats for the tin tops to go fetch. It's an important job…if you compromise me I will break every bone in your body, you ‘eard?"
As he spoke his face got closer to mine, I could smell last night's curry on his breath, probably a Dave's Tuna Special, his saliva was garlic laden as it inevitably jumped out of his mouth as he spat his words out at me. The curry smell was interspersed by a heavy smoker's breath which would account for the gravel voice. As he drew closer his face was pot-marked and as his eyes drilled into me I could see that they had seen a life that most of us only see in our nightmares.
I nodded vigorously at him, I realised he was a ‘Suit’. We all knew about the ‘Suits’, we see them at most major incidents and in seedy corners of certain bars. What do they do? Where do they go? No one knows but now I was aware they are in fact Guards with special undercover duties. Since my first meeting with this ‘Suit’ he has in fact allowed me to name him as Sgt X. A few days after this event, over a drink, I managed to persuade him that I would write about him responsibly, hence I am not in traction!
Sgt X briefed the "tin tops" as he so irreverently called his uniformed colleagues "Right ladies listen in!" He shouted
He leaned on a sledgehammer that was sticking up from the floor, his eyes darted around each guard his mouth barely moving under the thick grey moustache, he started in a very low gravelly voice...
“The San Pedrians are getting cocky. No one comes to this city and gets cocky on my watch. Since the whole "uprising” incident last year the People's Front of San Pedro have infiltrated our criminal underworld and are nearly running the show. My unit's job is to restore equilibrium" Sgt X's voice got lower. "Ladies...I have a rat in my kitchen, what am I gonna do? ....I'm going to get that rat...that is what I'm gonna do...get that rat..." He raised a hand and squeezed it into a fist and looked at it in a delirious manner. "His name is Rikardu L-irqieq or Thin Rick for those of you that are bothered. I want him dealt with robustly. His wife Elizabet L-Irqieq or Thin Lizzy, has had enough of his affairs and has grassed him up to me in complete confidence one evening over cheeky claret." Sgt X gave them the address, he grabbed an overcoat and started to move to the barracks gate. He growled over his shoulder "Go early whilst he's still asleep…probably still hanging out of some wench" and as he left I heard him say under his breath "That'll teach him to cheat at poker ..darn right cleared me out"
The guards formed up. Guard Tam grabbed the sledge hammer. Wes Tam was a huge guard and wielded the Hammer with ease. He was the door basher extraordinaire. He looked calm and collected, chewed on gum and was forever blowing bubbles. We scampered around the deserted streets trying not to make a sound. We soon arrived at the address. My heart was pounding, Guard Tam went to the door raised his sledge hammer to unleash hell when all of a sudden from around the next corner came another six guards trotting to the door. They were sporting white scarves which meant they were from Darby Lane. They stopped and both lines of Guards looked at each other Hunt-Fawshaw broke the uneasy silence and whispered..
"What you lot doing ere?"
"It's our Patch ..so naff off." a Darby Lane guard whispered back
"No our suit sent us to sort out Thin Rick"
"So did our suit so ……goodbye be off with you butterfly boys flutter on!" With this the Darby Lane door opener wielded his hammer to smash the door, Guard Tam shoved the Darby Lane door buster and he toppled over with said hammer ending up on a colleagues foot and so ensued a fist fight between two garrisons of guards ……I stood in amazement as The Darby Lane guards looked like they were on top then Hunt-Fawshaw jumped on a Darby Lane guard's back and wrestled him to the ground. It was mayhem not to mention noisy. I looked up at the address and the door opened and a small insignificant little thin man in his underpants quietly slipped out of the door unnoticed by the hapless guards and ran up the road. I tried to attract the fighting guards' attention but alas they were engrossed in their feud. Then another figure appeared at the door. A small thin woman with dark brown hair wearing a night shirt
She shook her head and shouted out in a thick San Pedro accent "You are all very stupid He is getting away!" she set off up the road after him "
I managed to drag Hunt-Fawshaw out of the scrum and he realised what had happened, we both ran up the street, turned a corner and in the dawn darkness we saw that Thin Lizzy had caught Thin Rick and had him by the throat.
"What are you doing? Dey are goin to get me now" Rick remonstrated
"I told dem about you and your involvement in the The People's Front of San Pedro" Lizzy replied
Hunt-Fawshaw and I stood hands folded listening to the argument.
"Why would you do dis you are my wife?" Rick asked arms wide open.
"Because my sister sat on your glasses and broke them !!" Lizzy exclaimed…...Hunt Fawshaw and I looked at each other in bewilderment.
"So is dat my fault ?" Rick shouted back looking at us in bewilderment .
"You were wearing dem at de time !" she screamed ..Hunt Fawshaw and I looked at each other again with that look of "Oh I see" She continued "Anda you spank me in da morning and say wid 2 sugars you ugly cow!"
Rick replied "Well I was told de best way to make a perfect cup of tea is to agitate de bag! Hux?" Hunt Fawshaw and I looked at each other and winced. This was going to hurt. Lizzy launched at him with her nails. Hunt-Fawshaw leaned forward and grabbed Lizzy pushing her to one side
"Time to put you both out of your misery "
With one sweeping hand gesture Hunt-Fawshaw drew his sword. I expected his trade mark butt whip but to my amazement his blade rose into the air and thundered down onto Rick's neck in a 45 degree angle. His head bounced across the street like a bloodbowl ball. His body dropped to the ground like the proverbial sack. I took a sharp intake of breath as I watched the blood pouring onto the pavement. Lizzie started to scream. Hunt-Fawshaw span round and with the butt of his sword struck her to the back of the head laying her out cold. He sheathed his sword and said
"Job done, domestic abuse is treated very seriously by the Guard, now let's sort them Darby Lane scum out"
He ran off back around the corner and hurled himself back into the melee. I looked around me and realised that it was a dirty job being a guard. Rikardu L-irqieq's life as a womanising terrorist was over. Lizzie his widow would have a huge bump on her head but would be free to live her life. I walked back to the address all the guards were lying prone moaning battered and bruised.
Hunt-Fawshaw picked himself up and together we walked back through the streets of Valroma. They were illuminated by the morning sun and the shadows that form at dawn. I struggled to make sense of what I had just witnessed and as we reached the top of Butterfly Street I could see Leli the stadium janitor up his ladder again. He was painting the red painted walls blue again. I shouted up...
"The owners change their mind again Lel?"
"Yes now dey want it blue again…no problem I paint it blue"
Hunt-Fawshaw looked up at Leli recognising the San Pedrian accent and as he passed the bottom of the ladder kicked it sending poor Leli plummeting to the ground covered in blue paint. Without even a glance back Hunt-Fawshaw sneered
"I have had enough of San Pedrians today"
I was due to go to San Pedro the next day to report on The Rams versus Imperial Purples I hoped The San Pedro faithful wouldn't be reading this report.
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