Sabre Six : File 51 Read Online Free Page A
Author: Jamie Fineran
of pansies and a box of toffees which I couldn’t eat because my mouth was so swollen. The piss taking arsehole!
“You feeling better , Michael?”
“Yeah, a little!”
“Killeen got away but we’ll get him mate, don’t worry.”
“Good. He’s definitely on my most hated list now.”
Stan laughed. “It’s a shame you didn’t die mate.”
“Yeah , why’s that then?”
“Because I’d have moved in with Hannah and shared the money from your death; I’d have been loaded for a few months.” We both laughed.
“It’s good to see you again , Stan. I’ve been working all over mate – you know how it goes, buddy.”
“Yeah , I know.”
“Oh , and before I go, one other thing!” He threw me a brown envelope and walked out of the ward. I used my better hand and looked inside. It was filled with fifty pound notes. Good lad, Stan!
Chapter Two: Sabre Six – File 51
French Connections: b efore I tangled up with Stan and Ryan Killeen I was working in Paris as a bodyguard for a somewhat important man – French industrialist, Claude Pierre, a billionaire businessman.
My eyes slowly open to the sound of a howling dog whining downstairs. Griffer is the most annoying, yet lovable bastard you could ever meet. I try to shut my eyes once more, but his annoying tantrums continue, totally disturbing my sleep.
M y legs slide over the side of the bed; I am still momentarily attached to my pillow, and I leave a little dribble patch for later.
My body kick-starts itself as I nod off again, jerking me into consciousness. Fin ally picking myself up, I glide slowly over to the mould now growing on my window ledge.
“Hello , is there anyone in?” Nothing but silence. I stroll downstairs in my boxer shorts. “Is there anyone here?” No one answers.
“ They must have gone out already.” I continue talking to myself.
The Dr agon, (well, that’s what I call her in an affectionate way of course!) otherwise known as my darling wife Hannah, works in a bank, and my little one, Fran, is at school, at East Bridge Primary.
I open the fridge door, and then grab a carton of full -fat milk. Just the way I like it.
Closing it behind me, I spot a note the Dragon has left for me. Is she taking the Michael?
I’ve already done that j ob. I mowed the lawn yesterday! She wants me to pick up the dog poo too. “How rude!” I continue to moan to no one in particular. Pouring the milk over my Cheerios, I sit down at the breakfast bar. It looks nice outside, from what I can see. The dog is at my feet begging for food. “Griffer, go away you little bugger!” Griffer continues to sit there until I finally give in and throw him a Cheerio to chomp on.
I finally get to munch away on my own favourite cereal. Griffer does what he likes and wanders into the garden through the open back door. We’ve tried everything, from group classes, to smacks on the bottom. We even tried one-to-one treatment with a specialist and the sod still continues to annoy me!
My cereal spoon drops from my bowl and then falls to the floor. “Bollocks!”
I shout aggressively for Griffer to get inside. “Get in your bed, you naughty boy, and stop barking, you sod!” He looks so innocent, bless him! As Griffer comes through the back door, he bangs his tiny head on the glass door, poor little sod. I give him a little cuddle and a belly rub.
“You just couldn’t write it could you Griffer, hey?”
I sit down and listen to a bit of Jeff Buckley on my iPhone, chilling out with Jeff and Griffer whilst sipping on my tea. Jeff has a beautiful voice. I would definitely say that his version of Hallelujah is, in my view, his masterpiece.
The song ends, and I cuddle the dog for a couple of minutes. Looking down at Griffer I reflect on the past. My job in Paris had not been an easy one.
Three months ago, my
“You feeling better , Michael?”
“Yeah, a little!”
“Killeen got away but we’ll get him mate, don’t worry.”
“Good. He’s definitely on my most hated list now.”
Stan laughed. “It’s a shame you didn’t die mate.”
“Yeah , why’s that then?”
“Because I’d have moved in with Hannah and shared the money from your death; I’d have been loaded for a few months.” We both laughed.
“It’s good to see you again , Stan. I’ve been working all over mate – you know how it goes, buddy.”
“Yeah , I know.”
“Oh , and before I go, one other thing!” He threw me a brown envelope and walked out of the ward. I used my better hand and looked inside. It was filled with fifty pound notes. Good lad, Stan!
Chapter Two: Sabre Six – File 51
French Connections: b efore I tangled up with Stan and Ryan Killeen I was working in Paris as a bodyguard for a somewhat important man – French industrialist, Claude Pierre, a billionaire businessman.
My eyes slowly open to the sound of a howling dog whining downstairs. Griffer is the most annoying, yet lovable bastard you could ever meet. I try to shut my eyes once more, but his annoying tantrums continue, totally disturbing my sleep.
M y legs slide over the side of the bed; I am still momentarily attached to my pillow, and I leave a little dribble patch for later.
My body kick-starts itself as I nod off again, jerking me into consciousness. Fin ally picking myself up, I glide slowly over to the mould now growing on my window ledge.
“Hello , is there anyone in?” Nothing but silence. I stroll downstairs in my boxer shorts. “Is there anyone here?” No one answers.
“ They must have gone out already.” I continue talking to myself.
The Dr agon, (well, that’s what I call her in an affectionate way of course!) otherwise known as my darling wife Hannah, works in a bank, and my little one, Fran, is at school, at East Bridge Primary.
I open the fridge door, and then grab a carton of full -fat milk. Just the way I like it.
Closing it behind me, I spot a note the Dragon has left for me. Is she taking the Michael?
I’ve already done that j ob. I mowed the lawn yesterday! She wants me to pick up the dog poo too. “How rude!” I continue to moan to no one in particular. Pouring the milk over my Cheerios, I sit down at the breakfast bar. It looks nice outside, from what I can see. The dog is at my feet begging for food. “Griffer, go away you little bugger!” Griffer continues to sit there until I finally give in and throw him a Cheerio to chomp on.
I finally get to munch away on my own favourite cereal. Griffer does what he likes and wanders into the garden through the open back door. We’ve tried everything, from group classes, to smacks on the bottom. We even tried one-to-one treatment with a specialist and the sod still continues to annoy me!
My cereal spoon drops from my bowl and then falls to the floor. “Bollocks!”
I shout aggressively for Griffer to get inside. “Get in your bed, you naughty boy, and stop barking, you sod!” He looks so innocent, bless him! As Griffer comes through the back door, he bangs his tiny head on the glass door, poor little sod. I give him a little cuddle and a belly rub.
“You just couldn’t write it could you Griffer, hey?”
I sit down and listen to a bit of Jeff Buckley on my iPhone, chilling out with Jeff and Griffer whilst sipping on my tea. Jeff has a beautiful voice. I would definitely say that his version of Hallelujah is, in my view, his masterpiece.
The song ends, and I cuddle the dog for a couple of minutes. Looking down at Griffer I reflect on the past. My job in Paris had not been an easy one.
Three months ago, my
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