Little Havana Exile

By Hale Chamberlain

How far would you be ready to go…to avenge the murder of your closest friend?

A tormented childhood in the outskirts of an old English metropolis, stained by incessant bullying and petty crimes. A voluntary escape from the family cocoon. A path obscuring by the day. 

At the age of 18, Teddy Harper suddenly finds himself at the helm of the largest organized crime gang in Birmingham, UK. And with it, its lot of ruthless enemies and deathly perils.

When close associate and fellow ringleader James Wilkinson gets ambushed and savagely murdered by a rival group, Teddy is confronted with a choice that could alter the face of the city's underworld - stop the bloodshed and work toward a truce…or plot a revenge of epic proportions.

As he finally yields to his dark side and commits the unthinkable, he is left with no choice but to set sails for an untimely and treacherous exile.

"Exclusively for fans of high-octane action-packed tales of gangsters, mafia, vengeance and prison breaks such as the Godfather, the Outsiders, and Narcos."

• Language: English
• Publisher: Hale Chamberlain
• Release date: Feb 24, 2018
• ISBN: 9781386305187

Book preview

Little Havana Exile

Hale Chamberlain

www.halechamberlain.com

Copyright © 2017 by Hale Chamberlain

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 without the prior written permission of the publisher, nor be otherwise circulated in any form of binding or cover other than that in which it is published and without a similar condition being imposed on the subsequent purchaser.

All characters in this publication are fictitious and any resemblance to real persons, living or dead is purely coincidental

NEWSLETTER – Hale Chamberlain

If you like this book and wish to be notified of new book releases and other bonuses, please subscribe to my newsletter via the link below.

www.halechamberlain.com

QUICK FAVOR

Dear reader – If you enjoyed this book, it would mean the world to me if you could leave your thoughts on it where you acquired it. As a new author, this could influence whether a book sticks to the top or falls into the abyss.

The easiest way to leave a review is simply to go to the website you’ve bought the book at, search for the book and mention what you liked most about the story – for example a specific scene or character.

Thank you!

CHAPTER 1

As he looked down at his bruised knuckles, Theodore Harper’s thoughts went to his mother and her unbearable niceness. He abhorred her overly charitable soul so deeply that he had fled his family home of Birmingham three months ago, at just sixteen years of age. Of all the things he blamed her for, the most irritating one was her blatant failure to prepare him for the cruelty of the world.

He had taken it in the face with full force as he went through his first true beating at age thirteen. That day, as he strolled back home through the Old Square after a day’s school, still unacquainted with the sheer nastiness troubled kids are capable of, a band of rough hoodlums hanging out on a nearby bench had decided to target him. What had triggered the ensuing nightmarish whipping was his well-groomed long-on-top haircut that conveyed the misleading impression that he was a mama’s boy from an affluent family, which couldn’t be further from the truth. They swarmed on him without warning and unleashed a vicious hail of punches. They did not stop when he fell – or rather threw himself – to the ground. Neither did they give him any respite when he started screaming, nor when he curled in the fetal position to protect his already damaged insides.

They only halted the unrelenting trashing when he let go and pretended to be dead following a long, purposeful wail – like a hognose snake. He had seen snakes do this on TV. When threatened by a stronger opponent, the sneaky reptile would enliven their death scenes with sound effects and fanfare, flopping over on his back, mouth wide open. To make it more realistic, the snake would often vomit its latest meal before going belly-up. If the confused predator rolled him onto his belly, the hognose would launch into a convulsion and end up on his back again. Teddy reckoned that if it worked for hognose snakes, it might work for humans, although he didn’t go as far as barfing up his lunch. Bullies feed on fear and despair, he finally understood.

What took him aback on that day wasn’t the sheer gratuity of the whacking he had just received. Nor was it the brutality that older kids could exert on youngsters. The most disturbing aspect of the whole affair was that the realization that the burning hatred the incident had awakened in him wasn’t directed at the hoodlums. It was aimed at his overprotective, devoted mother.

Although he was constantly on his guard from that moment onward, the bullying had continued intermittently for three excruciatingly long years, and neither his pious American mother nor his alcoholic Cockney father had managed to muster more than ridiculously ineffective prayers or floating booze-infused insults at a faceless enemy.

One day, after another vicious beating and another desperately weak response from his parents, Teddy had decided it was time to take matters into his own hand and help himself. His limbs were growing longer, although he remained rather skinny for a sixteen-year-old teenager. In a moment of sheer clarity and utter madness, Teddy Harper ran away. He wouldn’t set foot in his family house until years later.

Months later, he couldn’t recognize the man standing in front of the mirror. His transformation since he had fled had been total, and he often fantasized about showing his new unpitying self to his unsuspecting mother. Would the old woman even recognize me? He wondered.

The most outrageous aspect of his volte-face was undoubtedly his newfound bravado, which he had experienced as a liberation. No more of that forced politeness he was compelled to demonstrate in front of strangers. No more bowing the head in submission and fear. Silent hatred for his bullies had made ways for an unapologetic headstrong physical response. To achieve this feat, as a teenager, Teddy knew he had to sever bonds with those who were raising him as a weakling.

Less than three months into his initiatory walkabout, he was standing in front of one of his former bullies, on the construction site of the National Indoor Arena – the largest building endeavor in Birmingham's history. The massive project would provide a prime venue for entertainment to the city’s million residents. Teddy had been hired as a construction worker shortly after his runaway, tipped by his uncle Rob Harper. The man was long estranged from his family and had rapidly become somewhat of a father figure for Teddy. He would offer accommodation and food whenever the youngster deigned showing up.

Now, at the height of the summer, Teddy had been drinking a pop from the off-license on his new stamping ground. The concrete floor on the third level of the arena’s naked structure was dusty and treacherous, but it proved a perfect hangout spot, full of shades under the scorching sun.

Sundays were always a torture in Birmingham, an old-England industrious city, and the latest suggestion of his friend James offered little in the way of an enticing entertainment option.

Mate, we’ve been to Alton Towers a thousand times, Teddy said, leaning against one of the concrete pillars.

Cannon Hill Park?

Nah, bloody full of families. Can’t stand the sight of it. Can’t stand the sight of moaning kids.

How about the seaside? I’ll get my old man’s car and we’ll go to the Weston-Super-Mare, James said, attentive to his friend’s every reaction. If any relationship implies a balance of power, that one was definitely tilting in favor of Teddy. Acting like a douchebag would alienate most people, he reckoned, but those who stayed behind would be his most ardent allies.

He glanced at his friend impassively, and said, My white ass could use a tan, let’s roll. How are you planning on getting the keys?

James was ecstatic. He let the cigarette in his mouth drop to the ground, and said, Yes! Mate! Just leave that to me. I’ll make sure no one’s around, moving stealthily through the hall, reaching to the basement door, and–

"Stop going round the bloody Wrekin. Can you get the keys or not?" Teddy interrupted.

Oh. Yeah. I mean the guy is always so busy, he probably won’t even notice.

It was at that time that the two intruders had shown up unannounced. Teddy immediately recognized one of the hoods that had made his life a living hell in the years prior – a tall but stout youngster with the face of a tired coal miner and a shaved head. A skinhead. He was escorted by a sweaty, chubby man with greasy hair who looked like he had just snorted his tenth line of the day. They were looking for troubles, that much Teddy was certain of.

"Ladies, ladies, what do we have here? A very cute couple, don’t you think?" The bully said to his obese friend. They chuckled.

He went on, That’s a private property, you’re gonna have to vacate I’m afraid. And we’ll keep those–

The man stopped mid-sentence, somewhat unsettled by Teddy’s reaction. Or rather lack thereof. An imperceptible crooked smile was even started to appear on Teddy’s face.

Are you laughing, you bum? the bully called out, as he pushed away James vigorously out of the way, never breaking eye contact with his target.

Teddy’s response was immediate. You look tired buddy. In fact, you look like you’ve had a stroke, he said, pressing forward until he was right in his old bully’s face.

The boldness of the former wimp threw the man off for a second. Of course, he was unaware that Teddy had undergone a mental overhaul that few kids his age ever went through. Three years of constant intimidation with its lot of physical trauma and a slowly building smoldering anger changed a man to its core, for better or worse.

As the bully reached for his collar, Teddy unlocked a savage left hook that crashed on his opponent's cheekbone with full force. The punch was so brutal that he could have sworn he felt the bone crack. The exhilaration that engulfed Teddy at that moment would reverberate in each subsequent punch he would throw in the following years. It was a punch of liberation. A coming of age.

The bully was on the verge of losing consciousness when he collapsed and hit the hard, stony floor. As the initial bewilderment lifted, the youngsters slowly realized that that the very act of defiance they had just witnessed came with a far-reaching implication – a shift of power.

Man, stop. Stop. the bully begged with a meek voice. He was unwilling to test his opponent’s resolve by getting back up straight away, so he stayed down, even after the dizziness from the unexpected blow had passed. Sorry, sorry for the beatings.

The chubby guy did not bulge, sensing that this new version of Theodore Harper would go to great lengths to defend himself and his friend James. Little did he know that it was the first time in his life that Teddy had responded to an attack with anything other than submission. It was the first blow that Teddy had thrown at another human being. And it had felt even better than he had imagined.

No, no, no. Don’t apologize, Teddy said. Why are you saying sorry, you twat? You opened my eyes! He threw his arms in the air, and walked over the man lying on the ground, standing astride on top of his body. Then, to everyone’s horror, he placed his left foot on the right side of the man’s face, precisely where he had felt the crack. He applied a moderate amount of pressure, to signify the roles had been inverted and that now, he was undisputedly in command.

The tension in the air was mounting as the bully’s eyes widened in disbelief. When thoughts of his mother and former bullies pervaded his mind, Teddy gave in to the psychosis and pressed on the man’s face with increasing intent, until the man let out a chilly wail betraying extreme pain and dismay.

Teddy let go, having the ominous feeling that this was a line that would be crossed soon enough, but not here, not now. For now, he would stick with further verbal attacks, for a more devastating psychological impact, as the rascals had done to him so many times. You little penile head, he said scornfully, you and your fat girlfriend better fucking run before I decide to completely smash your faces off.

The two intruders were speechless and unable to move, completely gripped by fear.

Get the fuck outta here before he kills you! James finally shouted. The two men fled, without looking back and disappeared around a thin concrete wall full of protruding steel rods.

Teddy Harper had crushed his first bone, and he couldn’t help but feel a whole new world was opening before his eyes. A world where he would be in control.

CHAPTER 2

As a searing Indian summer submerged the city, most of the boys his age were leafing through book pages at the Central Library, fleeing the heat, just as the school year was about to kick off. Other kids were hunting for bargains at Mark’s One, queuing up at the ramp. Teddy, however, did neither. He had no desire for further education nor the quids to spend.

Lying on the bed of his uncle’s guest room, he pondered his next step. Rob Harper had a massive estate, and he definitely was involved in shady businesses, that much Teddy was certain of. It was no coincidence that his mother had pushed for his drunkard father to break off all links with uncle Rob when it became clear that the man was involved in dirty dealings, potentially even running a crime gang himself.

A single knock on the door brought Teddy back to reality. Robert Harper entered before Teddy had a chance to usher him in. In truth, the man looked more like an Italian mobster than an Englishman – short, portly with thinning hair combed backward. No kids, no wife, a life devoted to his businesses, whatever they were.

"Ham sandwich