"now i'm on my grind and the factory is dealing shit bout to stash cash on some illegal shit." ——
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A hammering at the door in the middle of the night woke Iris with a start. In an instant she had a pistol drawn and darted to the window to see who was on her doorstep. Tommy wasn't home - said he'd be out on business all night. Was it one of the small bookies they'd recently shut down come for revenge?
Iris peered through the lace curtains and let out a relieved laugh as she saw a bald head she recognised. It was only Curly. She opened the window and called down to him, her voice hushed. "What d'ya want, Curly? It's late."
"Tommy wants you. Needs you down at Charlie's yard. Important news, Miss Iris. Come quick, he says."
She sighed and nodded. "Give me a minute then." —— Curly rushed Iris the whole way to Charlie's yard; she couldn't tell if it was because of his constant half anxious/ half excited mood or if her presence was genuinely needed at the yard.
"Thanks, Curly." She said as she ushered the man off. "Thomas?"
Tommy spun around. He was visibly stressed. "Come here."
"What is it?" Her gaze drifted to a stack of wooden boxes. The lid off one of them was half concealing the contents.
"Look in the box, Iris."
She did. The box was filled with rifles. Real fucking rifles. Iris spun around, her eyes alight with a mixture of anger and intrigue. "What the fuck is this?"
"Rifles."
A scoff left her mouth at his nonchalant manner."I can fucking see that. What are you doing with rifles, Thomas? Where've you got the money for this? Why didn't you tell m-"
"I didn't buy them. I sent my men to steal bikes to strip for parts, they came back with enough artillery to sink Her Majesty's navy. All bound for Latvia."
"Libya." Came the sullen tone of Charlie Strong. If you could describe Charlie since the war, you'd say sullen. He was one of the many who never recovered properly.
"Alright, Charlie. It doesn't fucking matter. What matters is, we've hit the jackpot."
Iris let out a snort. "'The fucking jackpot'. Are you taking the piss with me? You think people won't come looking for these?"
He shrugged. "And if they come looking, we'll ask them 'what guns?'. Or we'll blackmail them. We'll do whatever the fuck we want, Iris. These guns fell into our hands for a fucking reason."
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