PLANNING FOR THE CARETAKERS STORY - COURSEWORK

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25th September 2004

PLANNING FOR THE CARETAKERS STORY - COURSEWORK

It’s Thursday night in central London, and the damp air envelopes the city as an eerie silence pervades through its soulless streets.   In an isolated street Davies sits patiently in his van with six others.

    “You all ready then “his says confidently, without glancing back,

    “Yeh”  comes the monotoned reply of the other gang members  “Give everything quick butchers” he says over the ominous sound of clunking metal as the semi-automatics are loaded., Davies casts a patriarchal look over his ‘boys’  which is reciprocated by the unspoken badge of respect they hold for him.

Like a well rehearsed play they all take their cue, Tom and Harry go silently towards the front door,  Charlie, Dave and Jenkins stealthily creep towards the back door.  Davies himself covers Tom and Harry and follows them to the front.

Freshly pressed suits and shoes that glimmer in the muggy night contradict the shabby attempt at disguise as the balaclavas, are pulled on and stick like a second skin over the perspiring heads of the gang.

142 Pool Street , an ugly pile of Georgian bricks in a less than salubrious Street and frequented by the ignoble and dishonest members of society that were the rival gang, who were unaware of what lay ahead of them as the peels of raucous laughter rang out from inside the house.

Tom approaches the door, followed closely behind by Davies and Harry; he bangs the door, 3 times, with his clenched fist and waits for someone to acknowledge their presence.    A wary voice comes from behind the closed door and asks them what they want.   “We’re here for Duncan”     comes the reply.  At first the voice behind the door makes a vain attempt at telling them that Duncan is busy, the voice behind the door is joined by another and a muffled dialogue is heard, before the door is slowly unbolted and opened to admit the callers.  The voice behind the door is silenced, before he has time to warn the others of the gravity of his error in letting them in, as Tom pulls the gun from underneath his double breasted jacket and shoots him.  

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The others in the house are alerted by the shots and from the sound of heavy thuds to the back door as Charlie and Dave kick the door in.  Another shot is fired, it injures Harry in the arm and as he squeals in pain, a gun battle ensues from the direction of the front room.  

Harry waits in the shadows and when the coast is clear he runs from the house and hides until it is all over, the wound he received has only grazed his arm but the glistening ruby red of the blood looks ...

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