Road Trip

ROAD TRIP’SUMMARY JUSTICE’ SERIES - BOOK 3 THEO HARRIS Road Trip Book 3 of the ’Summary Justice’ series Copyright © 2022 by Theo Harris All rights reserved. Paperback ISBN: 979-8-359553-38-4 No part of this book may be reproduced in any form or by any electronic or mechanical means, including information storage and retrieval systems, without written permission from the author, except for the use of brief quotations in a book review. This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, and incidents are either the product of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously, and any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, business establishments, places of learning, events or locales is entirely coincidental. Edited by Linda Nagle Cover art by Keith Johnston (Keith Draws Cover Art) Dedicated to Chris West PROLOGUE They stood in silence, unmoving, two ranks, like sentinels, waiting for their leader to address them. Dressed in all-black, all-weather motorcycle gear with blacked-out visors, they looked like extras in a sci-fi movie, playing the bad guys. It was the part they were born to play. You had to look closely to see the black shield-shaped patch on their right arms, each bearing a capital R in dark grey. The large empty warehouse in which they stood had been provided to them for their forthcoming mission, which their leader was about to explain. His footsteps broke the silence as he approached from a side office, flanked by a pair of his most trusted and feared men. One sported a Māori warrior tattoo that covered half his face and neck. The other had several piercings in his nose, lips, ears, and between his eyes. Both were bald, both were fierce, and both were evil in appearance. It was exactly what their leader wanted from them, to instil fear into everyone they encountered, including colleagues. The leader himself was neither pierced nor tattooed but wore sunglasses indoors, in what was a poorly lit warehouse. He was dressed exactly as the others in all-black but wore a blood-red bandana around his neck. He stopped in front of those gathered before him and spoke. ‘Listen up, people, it’s finally happening!’ There were hoots and hollers from the small crowd in appreciation; it was the news they had been waiting for. ‘Our benefactor has given us the go-ahead to start our operation,’ he continued, ‘so as of tomorrow, we shall cause as much mayhem as we possibly can.’ More cheers and the stomping of feet. ‘Our benefactor has been generous. Not only has he provided us with this base of operations, but he has also given us the list of places he wants us to target. But best of all, he has filled our bank account with lots of lovely money, so we can buy all the drugs and guns we need to make this operation the most spectacular yet. Oh, and there’ll be a ton of money left for us all personally if we do the job within a couple 1 The campfire crackled, its sparks floating upwards, brilliantly bright against the night sky as they weaved magical shapes and raced upwards before spluttering and disappearing. The family sitting around the fire laughed and joked as their annual gathering gained momentum. They ate and drank well into the night, celebrating the seventieth birthday of Manfri, their much-loved Rom Baro, or Big Man, the tribal leader of the Romany family that had been gracing this campsite once a year for the past fifty-three years. It was a well-attended ritual and celebration; although their family had diverged so much over the decades, they could gather annually to reflect upon and cement their long, proud heritage. Manfri stood, raising his glass. ‘May you all live long and happy lives, dear ones.’ ‘Hear, hear,’ came the shouts from many, before they went silent in respect for their elder. ‘Some of you have travelled far to be here with us once again. Some of you have chosen a different path to that of your Romany traditions, which we all respect,’ he added, to some boos and laughter. ‘Not all of us!’ shouted someone from the darkness.. ‘Yes, yes, we hear you back there, Patrick, always wanting to get a word in,’ Manfri continued, ‘but in all seriousness, the world has changed a great deal in my lifetime, and I see nothing wrong with that which some of our families have chosen. I respect their decisions – and let’s face it, they aren’t doing too badly, are they?’ ‘Yuppies, Rom Baro, that’s what they be, yuppies!’ Patrick shouted once more, to a of laughter. ‘Come round to mine in Surrey and I’ll let you drive my BMW, Patrick,’ shouted another, ‘and I’ll let you wash in my swimming pool too, before you come into our lovely house,’ he added, to continued hilarity. The banter between those who still travelled the roads of England and those who had forsaken their caravans for brick-built homes and plant their roots anew had been going on for years. It had become part of the annual ritual, and everyone looked forward to it as it kept them grounded. ‘As I was saying,’ continued Manfri, ‘you have come from