Little Men - The E Book (Part Two)

By Ronnie Yax

Part Two...

It is early 2001 and club culture is at the absolute peak of worldwide popularity. Sam Bradley, along with his friends and millions of others across the planet regularly drop ecstasy to dance, gurn and retch their way through a weekend.
But Sam has problems. He’s stuck in a dead-end job, out of money and his sex-life is non-existent. The local drug dealer and thug offers him work, but he is just using Sam as he attempts to break the stranglehold that his bosses have over the ecstasy trade in Britain.
Simon and Tony, it would seem, are legitimate businessmen running a successful record label. Having met at the very beginnings of the late 80s rave scene on the shores of Ibiza, they secretly control a criminal empire that has flooded the clubs with pills and made them both obscenely wealthy. And when Simon falls for the beautiful but devious and fame-hungry Kyla Andretti, someone Sam and his friends know all about, paths eventually cross and the quest for money, power and fame takes a sinister and murderous turn.

Little Men, for the first time fictionalises the actual events that led to ecstasy’s arrival in the UK and charts the highly criminal and dangerous global trade in drugs and the murky processes that happen in order to get the pills into the hands of end user.
The disturbing tale unfolds through the eyes of the drug users, dealers, traffickers and police. At times it is funny, always entertaining, and the suspense and intrigue lasts right up until the darkly terrifying ending.

• Language: English
• Publisher: Ronnie Yax
• Release date: Nov 28, 2011
• ISBN: 9781466049734

Ronnie Yax

When I was young I used to hang around parks, drinking. I then discovered girls so I moved on to shopping centres. Not long after that I discovered I had a passion for waving brightly coloured sticks in dark rooms with loud music and pretend smoke. I am currently working as a stuntman but would like to become a full-time writer. My favourite word is 'clandestine', followed by 'malevolent.' Or maybe, 'chips.' www.the-e-book.co.uk

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Little Men

The E Book

Copyright © Ronnie Yax 2011

Published by Ronnie Yax at Smashwords

This Ebook is licensed for you personal enjoyment only. This Ebook may not be re-sold or given away to other people. If you would like to share this book with another person, please purchase an additional copy for each recipient. If you're reading this book and did not purchase it, or if it was not purchased for use only, then please return to Smashwords.com and purchase your own copy. Thank you for respecting the hard work of this author.

The right of Ronnie Yax to be identified as the author of this work has been asserted by him in accordance with the Copyright, Designs and Patents Act 1988.

All rights reserved. No part of this publication may be reproduced, stored in a retrieval system, or transmitted, in any form or by any means, electronic, mechanical, photocopying, recording or otherwise, without prior permission of the copyright owner.

All the characters in this book are fictional, and any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, is purely coincidental

Part Two

Chapter Sixteen

Once again, Charles, Tony and Simon witnessed a beautiful dawn break over the Balearics. Charles excitedly tried to explain the night’s events to his friends sitting in the back of the car as Mike drove through the country lanes. Luckily there was no traffic on the roads as the driver was completely off his head and was having great difficulty negotiating the winding streets in his clapped-out Citroën.

Mike felt pleased at the unexpected presence of Tony and Simon. Although he and Charles had already established a tight bond, he always felt happiest in a group of people, and enjoyed spreading the word of his esteemed leader wherever he could. He sensed the previous night that Tony and Simon were different from Charles, less naïve perhaps, therefore less open to new ideas, but they still had a spirit he admired. He liked their sense of adventure. He could identify with it, and tap into it. He would show them something they had never seen before. He handed them a white capsule each at the beginning of the car journey, which they duly swallowed as they tried to comprehend Charles’s delirious jabbering.

After around half an hour, the most surreal car trip Tony, Charles and Simon had ever experienced came to an end. It was now close to complete daylight as they gazed through the filthy windows of the 2CV. Another nondescript white building.

Come on! yelled Mike impatiently. Once again, as the change of air hit the lungs of the men their collective highs intensified, causing their legs to wobble. Tony and Simon breathed deeply, steadying themselves on each other. Charles smiled at them knowingly. It was exactly the same feeling he had experienced a few hours earlier in the ashram.

Mike led them to the gated entrance of the building. He greeted someone at the door and handed him some crumpled banknotes. The man smiled and waved them through the doors.

Charles looked around him, once again completely blown away by what he saw. A kind of open-air courtyard with enormous palm trees, green and lush. The walls and some of the floor were painted white, but blended perfectly with the abundant fauna. In the centre of the floor was a peculiar mini swimming pool with a huge mirrored pyramid in its centre. People sat on the white edge of the pool, some with drinks in their hands, some smoking. Others stood around the courtyard chatting in small groups and some danced to the music.

The music. It was wonderful. It was like nothing Charles had heard before. A deep, bass beat thundered around the courtyard, fizzing and hissing and taking hold of him instantly in its rhythm. An uplifting, high-pitched, continuous melody sounded over the heavy beat, but perfectly in time. Charles felt an overwhelming urge to dance. It felt like the music was speaking to him. Like this record was put on specifically for Charles and his friends’ arrival at the club. Then he heard the lyrics. He glanced at his companions. He knew they were thinking the same thing.

"Brothers! Sisters! One day we will be free! From fighting, violence, people crying in the street! When the angels from above, fall down and spread their wings like doves, when we walk, hand in hand, sisters, brothers, we’ll make it to the promised land!

Charles rushed uncontrollably, almost tearful with emotion. The sound of a piano echoed around the walls of the club. He danced to the rhythm, and people danced around him. Mike, Tony, Simon all moving in shared rapture. Charles looked up at the stars. He felt invincible. Like he could fly. The music propelling him to another galaxy. And everyone around him shared the feeling.

He hugged his friends. They grinned inanely, sweat dripping from their heads. It all made sense. The music perfectly complemented how they were feeling. Last night was good, but tonight it was like this club and the people in it all knew – they all shared the feeling, the togetherness. Utter unity and love.

Tony and Simon were not quite as high as Charles, but getting there. Simultaneously, the feelings of twenty-four hours previously returned. Rush after rush swept over their bodies, destroying any lingering drowsiness from their recent impromptu nap.

Tony surveyed his surroundings. These were people he normally despised. Hippies mainly. Long hair and baggy clothes, some of the men even wore skirts! He would never normally be seen dead in a nightclub. He had tried to get into one a few times in London. The snooty doormen would take one look at his scruffy jeans and plimsolls and tell him to fuck off. He would argue, but it was pointless. There was no talking to those tossers. What was so great about the clubs anyway? He hated dancing, it was for poofs.

But tonight. This was something else. These people were his friends. Complete strangers, so different to him, in a strange country. They looked at him and smiled, they didn’t avoid his gaze as people would in London. Some offered their hands, he shook them warmly, winking and smiling in the semi-darkness. He found himself moving and shaking his body to the rhythm – it was uncontrollable, as if the music was a power, a force that moved him, in perfect time to the beat and lights that flashed all around him. He looked at Simon. His expression told him that he was in the same place. Completely immersed in the music and the moment.

You alright, mate? A female voice to Tony’s left made him snap out of his trance. An impossibly beautiful girl looked up at him, smiling. Having a good time? she asked confidently.

She can’t have been more than eighteen. Tony struggled to regain his composure. He tried to speak, but his jaw seemed to be clamped together. He knew he looked a mess. He hadn’t washed for ages and had been sleeping on a dusty lawn a few hours ago. Now he was dripping with sweat under the influence of a powerful hallucinogenic drug. The girl didn’t seem bothered.

Here, drink some of this. She held out a bottle of water. Tony gulped it down. His perception changed slightly, his mind momentarily became clearer. You look like you need to sit down for a minute.

Tony felt embarrassed, but agreed it was a good idea. The pair walked to the nearest white step and sat under a palm tree, slightly away from the main throng of the dance floor. It was just about quiet enough for them to hold a conversation.

So you’re English then? It was about all Tony could think of to say, his brain felt very muddled.

Yeah, I’m from Leeds, the pretty girl said.

Oh. Tony went blank. He couldn’t think where Leeds was. What are you doing here? he said eventually.

I work here. Well, not here in this club. In town, San Antonio. D’ya know it?

Yeah, I was there today, I mean yesterday, I mean… erm. The girl laughed. Tony felt self-conscious, but she was friendly and warm. And she had a fantastic smile. She didn’t look like she was from Northern England either. Deeply tanned with blonde, braided hair.

I’m Susie.

Tony.

How many you ’ad? she asked.

Eh?

How many, ya know. ‘E’s.

Come again? Again Tony was confused.

Don’t tell me you’ve had nowt, state of you. Still Tony looked at her incredulously. I’ve not, well, not tonight any road, I need to keep a clear head. I’ve got a busy day t’morra.

Slowly what Susie said sunk in. What did you say they were called?

What? ‘E’s?

Yeah.

Oh yeah, ecstasy. Every bugger’s on ‘em out ‘ere. The whole island. This club though especially. They’re great, i’n’t they? I always said I’d never touch drugs, but… well, it seems safe enough. Bit expensive though, twenty-five quid a pop. I can get ‘em cheaper. I know this fella.

Whoa there! Tony’s disorientated mind was working overtime. You mean, this… drug, you can buy it? And everyone’s on it?

Blimey, you’ve ‘ad a few, i’n’t ya? Look around ya… Tony looked at the people making loony shapes and pulling faces in time to the music. Most were grinning, eyes bulging out of their sockets. Where d’ya get yours from?

Susie felt like Tony was winding her up. Some southerner’s joke that someone like him might think she was too thick to understand.

We met this bloke, said Tony in his sharp cockney accent. He keeps giving us these tablets. Never says what they are or where he gets ‘em. Fucking knocked me sideways though. And me mates. He gestured towards Charles and Simon hugging each other on the dance floor.

That’s good, if you get ‘em for nowt. Most dealers out here’ll sting ya for twenty-five quid.

Tony smiled. What’s it called again?

Well, its proper name is MDM… something. Most people call it ecstasy, or ‘E’ for short. Watch yourself though. It’s illegal. I’ve heard the police’ll bust you for it. They treat it like LSD, you’ll go to prison…

Tony wasn’t listening. He watched Mike on the dance floor. He was dancing, slightly awkwardly, with a silly grin on his face. All of a sudden the music changed. It was as if all the clubbers were puppets and had their string pulled upwardly simultaneously. Those sitting leapt to their feet. Those standing threw their hands in the air in unison. An audible cheer rang out over the music. The tempo changed. It was faster, urgent, like a score from an action movie chase scene. The crowd picked up the pace of their dancing in time with the record. Then came the vocal. It was in Spanish. The regulars knew the lyrics and shouted them aloud over the music. Charles, Tony and Simon looked on in sheer amazement. They didn’t know the words but Charles tried to sing along anyway. He looked like a demented goldfish crossed with a monkey, but he didn’t care. This was absolute pleasure, a moment no-one could take away from him, not that anyone wanted to.

The music slowed slightly, then, just before the house track faded, a familiar guitar riff sounded from the club’s speakers. It was the unmistakable slow intro of Prince’s ‘Sign o' the Times‘. An entirely different track to the previous one, but the mix worked perfectly. The revellers went even more berserk as the morning sun rose behind them in the sky.

Once again Charles, Tony and Simon found themselves in Nicola’s apartment. The windows and doors were wide open as they tried to cool down, the afternoon sun burning ferociously outside.

A thin film of sweat covered the three men. They were stripped to their pants and guzzling water. Once again, Nicola was not impressed. For the second morning running she’d got up to the sight of three sweating, gurning morons banging on about some club or other. Once again, she decided to leave them to it and wandered alone to the pool with her book, silently cursing Simon and his ‘mates’.

What now, chums? Tony was the first to speak. It was close to early evening, the shadows getting longer. Simon and Charles eyed him groggily. They had been asleep for about ten hours. Now they awoke, clammy, hungry and disorientated.

Tony walked to the fridge and helped himself to a beer, smiling sardonically.

Why are you looking so smug? asked Simon.

I say we hit the clubs again, fellas. I dunno about you, but that Amnesia place blew me away. Fuck me! What a night! Charles and Simon smiled weakly. It had been a fantastic night but they felt exhausted. Tony persevered. He was in a bullish mood, and was itching to tell his companions why.

Come on lads, what’s wrong with you? Shake a leg! he goaded. Before Charles and Simon could mount any kind of resistance, Tony produced a small plastic bag from somewhere. What about my little friends? They’re dying to be eaten?

The others looked at the bag. It contained orange and white capsules – now very familiar.

Is that…?

Yes, Charlie boy. Spot on, fella. Tony was really starting to enjoy himself. His natural, macho bravado returned with a vengeance.

Where did you get them? Simon asked.

Oh, nowhere special. Does it matter? Want one now? Come on, chaps! He danced around the room swigging beer, waving the bag like a clown at a children’s party. Charles was not impressed.

Did you get them off Mike? He gave them to you? Charles asked.

Not exactly, no.

You fucking stole ‘em, you cheeky git! said Simon, laughing. Only Charles was not amused. He was beginning to realise what type of person Tony was. He wanted to berate him, but thought better of it. Falling out with Tony would almost certainly spell the end of his adventure and send him back to his parents with his tail between his legs. And he was already thinking ahead to another amazing night under the stars dancing to that fantastic music…

The three men got themselves together and once again headed out into the San Antonio night. As it was still fairly early, they amused themselves drinking and playing pool until it was time. Time to go to that place – Amnesia.

Charles felt relieved they didn’t bump into Mike. It transpired that Tony had snatched the bag from the pocket of Mike’s baggy trousers during one of the group hugs in the middle of an euphoric moment of the previous night.

Tonight, as his companions danced under the stars, Tony made an interesting discovery. The contents of his little plastic bag were in great demand. Susie had been spot-on with what she said. Tony sold the lot. The next morning, back at Simon and Nicola’s apartment, he counted the money. 100,000 pesetas in coins and banknotes. For one little bag of ecstasy tablets.

Nicola Simmons was not a happy woman. Her holiday had been ruined by Simon and his ‘friends’. Cronies he had just met. He’d spent every waking moment of the last few days with them, and spent no time with her whatsoever. She just could not understand it. Well, now it was time to go home. She would get even with him, the fucking toerag.

As she and Simon packed, his pair of loser mates were still sprawled out in the apartment. She literally had to step over them to gather her things. The two of them with inane looks on their faces.

Good fucking riddance, she seethed under her breath.

Charles was doing his best not to think about what was coming. It hurt his addled brain. In a few hours he would be homeless. He would have to face his parents. It was nearly a week since he’d done his vanishing act. His mum would be frantic with worry – she might even have the police looking for him. He knew his stepfather would be incandescent with rage. He just wasn’t interested in either of them. Not after this.

Tony was pondering a similar dilemma. He knew Denise would be worried sick, but she was probably too timid to attempt to tell foreign police of his disappearance. She might try the holiday company, he thought, but would they come looking? He doubted it. He knew he should go back, but he just couldn’t face it. She would be an emotional wreck. Their own departure was a few days away… He could wing it until then, surely. He just could not deal with her at the moment…

Tony and Charles said their goodbyes to Simon and Nicola and watched as they boarded the bus that would take them to the airport. The three men swore solemnly to keep in touch, much to the chagrin of Nicola.

The bus pulled away and Tony and Charles stared in its wake. They wandered to the beach, deflated. Weakened by the departure of their companion, although somehow they felt all the more determined not to go back to their normal lives, at least not yet.

Chapter Seventeen

Charles lay on a sun lounger and stared into the blue sky, his arm resting on his head.

Why don’t we live here? On the beach. We can sleep here during the day and go to Amnesia at night. It’s all we need. He was only half-joking.

Good plan, mate. Tony really didn’t have any better ideas, but he did have the money he’d acquired a few nights ago. Tony held all the cards. Charles had nothing. He hoped Tony would come up with something. He did.

I know what we’ll do. Let’s see if we can get hold of more of those… ’E’s, and sell ‘em. That’ll keep us going for a few days. We can go to Amnesia. You and me, kid. Fuck going home yet.

It was exactly what Charles wanted to hear. It was worth a try, at least. If it went tits-up, it went tits-up. He would admit defeat and face the music. But this plan would buy them a few more days at the very least. He laid back and smiled, the sun warming him. Winging it felt good. It had worked well so far…

They wandered the streets of San Antonio mingling with holidaymakers. After a while they stopped for a drink and discussed the plan. Finding accommodation was the first priority. Neither had experience of this in England, let alone a foreign country. They asked around, mainly staff in the bars they visited, as they, the lads reasoned, had to live somewhere themselves as the vast majority were not natives.

Eventually a barman introduced a half-cut Charles and Tony to his landlord, who revealed he had a room they could share above his bar. Better still, as luck would have it, he had a vacancy for a barman. Tony paid the landlord a week’s rent up front and Charles started work the following evening. Of course he had no experience, but he was quickly learning the art of blagging and how far one could get on an island like Ibiza if you just gave it a bit of front.

Tony finally went to see Denise. It was the night before they were due to fly home together and he found her beside herself with worry. She burst into tears as soon as she saw him, and he had to forcibly prise her off him as he told her he would not be accompanying her on the flight back to England.

Tony knew she would never understand his reasons, he didn’t fully himself. He just knew he couldn’t give up this sun-drenched lifestyle just yet. And it was still relatively early in the summer. He told her he had met someone else, another woman. It was the only way, he mused, to get through to her. He told her it was over and she may never see him again. She became close to hysterical, and he beat a hasty retreat. Hardly tactful, he thought, but necessary. She was young and attractive. She would easily find someone else, someone more willing to be… controlled.

Charles and Tony quickly made contacts on the island. Charles worked at the bar and Tony made a bit of cash doing odd jobs here and there. Secretly, he was determined to find out more about how drugs were getting onto the island. He realised that young tourists flocking to the island with money in their pocket, visiting the nightclubs, meant a captive and highly lucrative market. He didn’t have to wait long.

He learned that while some people were getting ecstasy from the sannyasins (Mike and his crowd), there was also a network of dealers who purchased MDMA and other drugs from Spanish gypsies who travelled from the mainland. From