Prostitutes Pimps and a Pi

By Jeffrey Sheppard

Career crim, Mick Williams, has a brilliant idea to make a mountain of money in a short time. Travelling to Thailand he coaxes 6 young beautiful women back to Brisbane and along with his brother, they proceed to brutalise and threaten the girls into being virtual sex slaves.

Throw in some high-octane sex, violence, murder, along with some twists and turns and the story bubbles along at a good rate of knots.

Private investigator, Merv Shultz, is hired to track the Williams brothers down and rescue the beautiful girls. Things ebb and flow and although Mick Williams is a poor businessman, he cunning as a shithouse rat and seems one step ahead of the authorities, despite his money-making venture going tits up around him.

• Language: English
• Publisher: Jeffrey Sheppard
• Release date: Mar 26, 2024
• ISBN: 9798215355312

Jeffrey Sheppard

In my early career I worked at Queensland Newspapers, the publisher of the Courier Mail, Brisbane's daily newspaper. Then I travelled a bit and ended up in Vienna, Austria, where I was lucky enough to get a job in the publication section of the United Nations Industrial Development Organisation, or UNIDO for short.Later on when I returned home I was employed by another daily newspaper, the Queensland Times in Ipswich, a major regional town outside of Brisbane. I followed that with a stint at Queensland Country Life, a weekly newspaper, that services the farmers and pastoralist of the huge state of Queensland.However I wanted to be my own boss, so I bought a small printing business here in Brisbane and ran that, along with my wife, Helen, for around 12 years. Sold it and retired to do what I do now, play some golf, travel, exercise and write.Writing came late to me, it's a passion and a hobby all rolled into one. Yet it can be time consuming, even though I'm retired sometimes my passion does feel like work. But . . . like lots of amateurs on Smashwords when someone, like yourself, downloads one of my books it gives me a thrill. So thanks for taking the time to read my musings.

Book preview

BY JEFFREY SHEPPARD

PROSTITUTES PIMPS AND A PI

Copyright 2024 Jeffrey Sheppard

Published by Jeffrey Sheppard at Smashwords. This eBook is licensed for your personal enjoyment only. This eBook may not be resold or given away to other people. If you would like to share this book with another person, please download an additional copy for each recipient.

Like many books published in this manner, some mistakes can occur. To the best of my ability, I've tried to eliminate them, however, I take full ownership for any mistakes found by the reader.

Please note, this book is a work of fiction. Sadly however, this is a story that is playing out around the world this very moment, with women forced to work in the sex industry against their will. All the characters come from my imagination, and any similarities to person's living or dead are purely coincidental.

Thank you for respecting the hard work of this author.

CHAPTER 1

MICK and his younger brother, Justin, four years his junior, were driving through Sarina just south of Mackay, in their seven-year-old Ford Falcon doing 75 in a 60 zone. The nondescript Falcon was recently acquired from a western Sydney shopping centre, and then they drove to Queensland on the New England Highway, stopping along the way at a few service stations to fill up the car and to refine their newly learnt skills. The distinctive yellow background New South Wales plates were removed in Darra, just outside Brisbane and replaced with Queensland plates to help the car blend in more with the locals.

Justin yah stupid fat prick, stop bein a dickhead and for Christ's sake slowdown will yah? God, the last thing we want is for the coppers to catch us speedin.

Yeah, shit sorry Mick, I was havin a bit of a daydream, he adds as an afterthought, Look this place seems prosperous enough, do yah wanna try here? Hoping for his older brother's approval.

Mick cracks a rare smile, looks across at his brother and answers, Well if yah slow down I might be able to see somethin, everythinʼs a blur at the moment. In a more serious tone he adds, Yah know the routine, look for a busy joint. Busy is the key to success, no one has the time to fuckin argue the toss if there's a queue of people halfway out the door.

Justin's slows down to a respectable 50 kilometres an hour as they cruise past a Caltex servo that looks just right for them. The servo has a restaurant attached to it and a mini-mart at the front, to entice the motorists to spend even more of their hard-earned dollars on rubbish they don't need. It's 10 am Saturday morning; Sarina is a busy place today. A lot of the local cane cockies and their wives are in town doing their weekly shopping and filling up their four-wheel drive vehicles or utilities with fuel.

Drive around one more time will yah and let me off just around the corner hey.

Justin does as he's told and parks the Falcon about 100 metres to the west of the servo. Looking over to his older brother he says, See yah in five bro. Mick's all business now as he leans through the driver's side window, Have yah got the hundred?

No, I wiped me arse on it when I went and had a shit, what do yah think Mick?

Nothing would surprise him what his idiot, younger brother might do as he rolls his eyes at his comment, Stop actin like a tough guy you moron, no lip okay?

Justin stares up at his brother but accepts the insult in silence, and heads for the petrol pumps. Mick watches his brother drive into the service station and pull up alongside one of the vacant unleaded petrol pumps. As agreed, his brother will put $15 of petrol into the car, walk over to the service counter and pay with a $100 bill. The plan calls for him to collect his change from the attendant, drive the car away from the service station, park up the street and wait for his brother. Since COVID many people prefer to use the 'tap and pay' system, but out here in the country cash is still king.

Mick has a chocolate bar and a packet of chips in his hand as he idly flicks through a few magazines in the mini-mart, waiting for Justin to be served. Justin's reached the counter, now Mick seamlessly falls in a few customers behind him. Turning around he sees he's been joined by two more shoppers eager to have their transaction completed and be on their way. He sees Justin hand over the $100 note, receive his $85 change and briskly walk out the door, heading towards their car.

Mick breathes a sign of relief, that part of the scam has gone off well. He's already sized up the counter attendant, an efficient but inexperienced young girl who wouldn't be any more than 18. Perfect he thinks.

He puts on his best false smile and stares at the teenager, Hello luv, just the chocolate and the chips please, sorry this is all I have, speaking louder than the occasion demands, handing over his purchases and a $20 note, making sure the person behind him can't see the attendant take the note.

The young attendant scans Mick's purchases, No problem, that's $5.55, and hands him back his $14.45 in change.

Mick holds his ground, his former smile has vanished, he glares at the young girl and in a confident voice states, Sorry luv but I gave yah a $100 note, I know I did. Because I even said sorry this is all I have, remember?

The attendant didn't show any signs of being flustered and answered in a sympathetic voice, That's right I did hear you say something like that, but it definitely was a $20 note you gave me, it's still in my note holder in the register, pointing down at her open cash register at the recently received $20 bill. I'm sorry, but you must have been mistaken. Don't worry about it, it happens all the time. Offering a reassuring smile she adds for good measure, It definitely was only a 20.

With an ugly scowl he commences his attack, No, no yah wrong, it was a 100. I remember, it was the only note in me wallet, as he takes it out and shows the girl his empty wallet. Also, I'm sure it had a mobile number written somewhere on it, just take a look for me will yah?

The attendant stubbornly stands her ground, Sir I have a routine here, when a customer gives me a note it goes straight into my note holder at the top of the cash register and right now I'm looking at a $20 bill, the same one you gave me a few seconds ago.

Mick raises his voice, acting irritated, Christ that's impossible, just check to see if yah have a $100 bill with a phone number written on it. Surely yah can do that for me?

Small cracks begin to appear in her armour and she is gradually losing her composure, Sir I going to have to ask you to leave, you have your correct change, other people behind you want to be served.

Unwittingly she's just played into Mick's hands, now he turns around to the person behind him, a bloke about his age, Hey mate yah must have seen me give this chick here a $100 note?

Shaking his head, Nah sorry I didn't, but I did hear you say something to the girl about that was all you had.

Mick's new supporter looks over to the attendant and adds, Listen I'm in a bit of a hurry, can't you search your till for this man to see if there's a $100 bill that has a phone number on it?

Mick's delighted, he's not expecting to have an ally so soon in his deception, asks the attendant, See, I told yah, the man behind me heard me apologise for not havin anythin smaller. So come on, surely that's not too much to ask, just take a look for me will yah?

Reluctantly she goes to the drawer that holds the one hundred dollar bills and pulls out the top one, which has a mobile phone number written on it. She looks at the note in disbelief, and she can feel her cheeks and forehead turning red from embarrassment and anger. She thinks it's not possible but . . .

Before she can reply in her defence Mick instantly swoops, Good, that was the bill I used to pay yah with. I can even prove it, I wrote the number down on the note because the batteries on me mobile were goin flat a coupla of days ago and I didn't wanna lose it.

Now he pulls out his mobile phone and displays a number up on the screen, 0041 031 000. I bet that's the number isn't it? looking at her defiantly, So maybe I can have the rest of me change now?

The queue is now 10 deep, with murmurs from the late arrivals asking what's the hold up? She doesn't know how it happened, but she realises she's been tricked. Unfortunately, all she can do is count out four $20 notes and hand them to Mick.

Thanks luv, just try and be more careful next time, he says with a broad smile on his face before turning and walking through the mini-mart and out onto the forecourt of the service station. As he reaches the footpath, he spies his brother parked 60 metres up the street waiting for him.

Piece of cake, I got the dough, but she smelt a rat though, she knew she'd been conned, he mentions sliding into the front passenger seat of the Falcon.

Big fuckin deal, it's not her money, I'm sure the bitch will get over it, Justin replies with glee as another successful con is completed, Let's take this bucket of bolts to Mackay, maybe we'll try a couple more today, whaddya reckon Mick?

Until such time as word gets around, the scam's almost bulletproof, the only downside is the pair have to syphon out the petrol every now and then and dump it along the road somewhere. Four hours and $340 richer the two men are happily ensconced in their motel room in central Mackay. The younger Justin is all for celebrating, however, Mick's always been the deep thinker of the two and his mood has turned pensive.

∞∞∞∞∞∞∞∞∞∞

After a few years in jail for a break and entering plus assault, he naturally enough doesn't ever want to see the inside of a prison again. However, the thought of working 40 hours a week doing some labouring job until he's 65 also scares the shit out of him. Burglary is a hazardous occupation and the payoff can vary from average to mediocre. These days there's never much cash lying around the joints he targets, the big money spinners are jewellery, digital cameras, mobile phones and any small electronic appliance he could carry, especially the popular iPads. He was never into taking large plasma screens; if he couldn't carry it by himself he left it. However working alone had its drawbacks too, as he found out four years ago when he was inside a Rose Bay harbourside house in his old stamping ground in Sydney.

He had studied the house for a while and on Tuesday and Friday nights, the middle-aged couple left around 7 pm in their late-model BMW, probably off to an expensive restaurant for dinner. He'd noticed the couple never returned in less than two hours, which was plenty of time for his little venture.

Disarming their security alarm system presented little problem to him. After he gained entry, as luck would have it he was taking a look around their home entertainment room, seeing if there was anything small enough to fit into his carry bag. Disappointed he walked from the room and almost bumped into the husband who had returned to collect something he'd forgotten. In the soundproofed entertainment room Mick never heard him come in. The wife had followed her husband to their house and she was standing at the front door waiting for him. After both men recovered from their initial shock, the husband yelled to his wife to call the police on her phone. Meanwhile, Mick's first thoughts were to punch this prick's lights out. He was only a few metres away from the owner who was scared out of his wits, flailing his arms about, acting like some kind of boxer and screaming out at Mick to leave before the police came. Remembering the scene vividly, his actions were instinctive, he grabbed hold of the husband and drove a powerful right punch into his face with predictable results, his nose exploded across his weather-beaten face and blood spurted out like a miniature red fountain. Thinking back it was a very enjoyable moment of an otherwise fucked up night. On seeing this altercation, in a panic, the wife ran next door to the neighbours screaming her guts out. Mick got the message, it was time to make himself scarce so he sprinted in the direction of his car.

A series of unfortunate events happened next. Mick almost tripped over as he ran into the dog lead of some moron walking his border collie mutt, as the owner staggered out of the house yelling for the dog owner to stop the thief. One look at the mortified dog owner told Mick miracles like that were never going to happen. Whether by panic or common sense, Mick was never sure which, the dog owner did the next best thing, he let go of the dog's lead and naturally enough the dog's breeding, honed over many generations kicked in and it gave chase to the two-legged sheep running down the road. Mick finally made it to his stolen car and as he recalled he didn't have too much trouble persuading the dog it was better off with its owner. He gave it a couple of hefty kicks in the ribs; the dog let out a series of yelps and retreated into the night. Those yelps spurred on the dog's owner and he arrived in time to get an excellent description of the stolen car and its licence plates as Mick sped away. He then reached into his pocket, took out his mobile phone, and still shaking, dialled triple 0 and gave all the details to the police. Mick was caught between a rock and a hard place. He needed to ditch the hot car, but also he needed to put a few kilometres between himself and the scene of the crime. He had always thought most things in life were a compromise, unluckily on this occasion he stuck with the car for a little too long. One of the police cars driving to the break-in saw Mick getting out of the car in a quiet side street, quickly did a U-turn and it wasn't long before Mick was in the back of the police car handcuffed.

The two years in jail weren't lost years, far from it, always strong and well-built he refined his boxing skills and spent countless hours pumping iron at the gym. He lost about 10 kilos inside, he's now down to just over 90 kilos and he prides himself that on a one-on-one basis, he would flatten most blokes he knows. Also while inside, he felt he graduated from high school, criminal high school that is, as he learnt a few civvie street survival skills over the two years. The current scam his brother and he are working on now is one he learnt inside. It serves its purpose, but it'll never be a big earner for them. About 400 bucks a day between them was about its potential. His fat lazy younger brother Justin who's never been blessed with the smarts thought it was fantastic. He's reached his paramount of success, what with travelling around the countryside and seeing the sights with someone else paying their way, according to Justin they've hit the big time.

Mick's peace was shattered by his younger brother yelling out, Hey bro I've got an awesome idea, let's get a chick for tonight, whaddya say, hey?

Jesus wept. It wasn't a bad idea and teasingly he asked, Do yah wanna try the 100-buck scam on her Justin?

Justin's face lit up, That's fuckin unreal, yeah I never thought of that one, I was only thinkin of a fuck yah know, but that's a shit hot idea.

With a scowl on his face he exclaimed, For fuck's sake Justin get real, yah can't be fair dinkum, besides how yah gonna work it, go on tell us? Mick states vehemently.

Justin wasn't expecting this type of belligerence for his top-shelf idea, he was confused at his older brother's statement, Well we . . . ah, shit I give her the 100 and . . . ah, you'll think of somethin Mick, yah always do?

Berating his brother is second nature to him and on this occasion, he gives him some pearls of wisdom. I'm tellin yah straight it won't work. Look get this through yah fuckin thick skull, the chick could have a pimp waitin in her car, that's one. She knows which motel room we're stayin in, that's two, and she'd see our car, that's three. To top it off she wouldn't hesitate goin to the cops because what she's doin is legal, not like our little scam. Justin, you don't mess with pros like that mate, they're dangerous.

Suitably chastened he replies meekly, Yeah sorry, yah right I didn't think it through proper.

In a conciliatory gesture he replies, Well yah first idea's brilliant though, why don't yah get on the mobile and see if yah can organise a fuck for tonight. But listen hey, I'm first with the chick okay?

In an instant Justin's demeanour has changed to one of lap dog enthusiasm in pleasing his older brother, Shit yeah I'll do it now, chuck us the local paper Mick, will yah, it'll probably have an adult section in it somewhere?

CHAPTER 2

JUSTIN phoned four girls, two were busy all night, one wanted $500 to service the two men and one sounded like their grandmother. Half an hour later he threw his mobile phone on the bed in disgust thinking these prostitutes are bigger thieves than they were.

Mick's sucking on a stubbie, he slams it down on the small kitchen table and exclaims, Christ, yah can't even organise a root, hurry up and chuck us the paper here bro, I'll have a go.

He opens the page to the classified section that advertises these types of services. Justin's crossed out the girls he's already phoned, Mick calls the next on the list and speaks to a Cindy who describes herself as 23, with big breasts and size six. Perfect he thinks, but then she informs Mick she only works out of her unit, she doesn't do outcalls.

He calls the next one, Hello Amanda speaking, you want see me? Comes the distinctive Asian accent through the phone.

Why hello Amanda, do yah do outcalls?

Yes, outcalls no problem. I give excellent quality service with special price to you.

Well, it's actually me brother and me here, so how much for one hour luv?

Special top quality service $300, very, very cheap. You want me come now, you give address I come now, okay.

Shit hangs about, that's too expensive, besides whaddya look like.

Me Thai girl, only 25 years old, very beautiful, smooth skin, lovely long black hair. I give you excellent top-quality service. You see, you like.

Have yah got big knockers?

Sorry . . . no understand, please say again?

Big tits . . . have yah got big breasts?

Oh, I understand now, yes, lovely beautiful breasts, you see you like. You want me come now?

Mick's got the picture, he's talking to an amazingly beautiful girl, $200 for one hour, and yah come now hey?

Too cheap, too cheap, I'm 25 years old, very beautiful, young girl, me student girl, I study here, I need more money, $300, I come now.

Yeah don't give me that student bullshit, look 250 bucks, we're stayin at the Sugar Centre Motel, unit five. Two hundred and fifty okay, see yah in 10 minutes okay? And don't be late.

Yes, I'm coming for you now.

Fifteen minutes later there's a knock at the door, Mick waves for Justin to answer it. However in this instance, Justin doesn't need any encouragement, he jumps up out of his chair and opens the door in one swift, flowing movement. Standing before him is a fairly ordinary-looking, short, dumpy, Asian woman who will never see 30 again. She's dressed in a tiny, white midriff top, which is a couple of sizes too small for her abundant breasts, a light brown mini skirt and black stiletto, high heel shoes. Exactly what he's expecting except for the additional 10 or so years she's carrying, nevertheless, he beckons her inside their room.

Mick eyeballs the Asian, she's nothing like her description, with no attempt to hide his sarcasm he asks, Hello luv, is yah daughter outside or somethin?

Ignoring his question she goes into her well-practised spiel. My name Amanda, as she holds out her right hand, not as a sign of greeting but one of expectation, $250 now, then I give you good time. Okay?

Mick resents being taken for a fool, Look yah lyin slut, yah told me yah only 25 and that yah beautiful. I've seen better lookin heads on pimples than yours. So why don't yah just piss off and go back under yah rock?

As a working prostitute, Amanda's heard all these insults before and is undeterred, she sizes up the two men in the cheap motel room. She'll deal with the one handing out the insults first. The younger one has been subconsciously rubbing himself since she walked in the door and she figures she can easily manipulate him. He can wait.

So Amanda begins her campaign for the money, approaches Mick and in a practised, soft dulcet tone she whispers, I'm 25, I very good, I give you long suck then best fuck ever, $250 please, you won't regret, I give you best time.

Mick's resolve was weakening, in a more measured tone he answers, That sounds like a bit of bullshit luv, fuck me dead, yah must be nearly 40 and I don't like what I'm lookin at, so . . .

Amandaʼs made the effort to get here, she's not about to be denied, she places her right hand between his crotch and provocatively squeezes and rubs him. Now she puts her arms around him nibbles him on the cheek and licks his ear. I give you both extra special service, I make you cum twice, you see, I best girl in town.

She lets go of Mick and takes off her top exposing her ample breasts along with large brown nipples, grabs Mick's hands and places them on her breasts. It's an invitation he can't resist and just as Amber hoped he starts to gently squeeze her nipples, as he breaks into a grin. She smiles, Later big boy, I see your friend now, she walks over to the seated Justin who's been ogling her as she silently rubs her tits against his face, much to his delight. You like?

Ah, yeah babe, I like it a lot.

Mick sizes up the situation, she's not beautiful, but then again she's not ugly, she's got big tits, and she seems willing enough–and she's here. He looks at Justin seeing he's now occupied giving her tits a good suck. Oh well he thinks, he's not about to introduce her to his mum, so he counts out five fifties walks over to her and hands over the bills.

She smiles, Thank you, darling, I give you great service. Who first?

Mick smiles, Justin make yahself scarce will yah. With his attention firmly on Amanda he says, I am luv, as he walks up behind her and gives her tits a good squeeze.

He and Amanda use up nearly 45 minutes, he thinks with the tricks this chick knows Justin will be lucky to last 10 minutes. She might not be pretty, but hell she's pretty good. Missionary, doggie and finally squatting down on him, she sure knows how to use her special piece of equipment. Amanda quickly takes a shower; he gets dressed and goes outside to tell Justin it's his turn. Apart from having a good time with her, he chatted to her about life in Thailand and asked how she became involved in the sex industry here in Queensland. With Justin rattling her bones he decides to take a walk, the embryo of an idea that could just work has come to him. Half an hour later he's thought his little gem through, Christ why didn't he ever think of this before, it's so simple, sure it needs two, maybe three committed people and maybe 40 or so grand to make it work, but Justin will do whatever he says. In order to bring his grandiose plan to life they will need some seed money, about $40,000 should do the trick. Between Justin and him they have almost $5,000, that's $35,000 short of the total he thinks they'll need. At the rate they're going, the scam they're operating now will take them months to achieve his dream. So he sets about racking his brains to come up with a solution to their problem.

∞∞∞∞∞∞∞∞∞∞

They've watched the TAB that's attached to the Hotel in an outer suburban of Brisbane for a week, ascertaining the staffing levels, points of entry, the busy times and the quiet times. It's not a course of action that Mick really wants to pursue, but the risk is low and if they both adhere to his plan everything should work out okay. He learnt a lot from his time in jail, he befriended only the smart crims, not the druggies or the fuckwits, they couldn't teach him shit. He became very close to one long-term crim whilst inside. Twenty-odd years Mick's senior he had plenty of time on his hands, so many an hour was spent telling his anecdotal stories which Mick lapped up. Stories about his hard-won bits of knowledge gained through trial and error. These lessons were invaluable to Mick, but playing the devil's advocate, he occasionally posed this question to him whenever his mate pontificated to excess. 'Why are yah inside if yah were that good?'

The answer was always different, but the same, well Micky boy even with all the planning, you need a bit of luck. And sometimes lady luck is fickle.

However, in essence, the lessons he learnt over the years from his mentors were very similar–when you do a job, have an audacious plan, think outside the norm, act the opposite of how the cops think you'll act. And above all stick to your plan.

It was a quiet Tuesday, just as he hoped and at five minutes to five in the afternoon, a longhaired, bikie walked into the TAB carrying his bike helmet in his left hand. The only staff member on duty, 48-year-old Liz Dickenson is taking down the form guides of the day's racing. She's pulling out the drawing pins and throwing the old sheets into a garbage bin she's dragging around with her. As she tosses out the old ones she replaces them with the next day's form guides. In the morning at 10.30 one of her jobs is to cross out all the horses that have been scratched from the various race meetings, in red pen, so the punters know what horses are left in the races. Although quiet now, it was very busy around lunch time and she's looking forward to closing up and going home to her husband who's had the day off and volunteered to cook a nice meal for the two of them.

The bikie goes to the counter and looks at the form guide for the greyhound races that are being run tonight. Thirty seconds later another bikie with long blonde hair and a short goatee beard walks into the TAB from the pub entrance. He also is carrying a bike helmet. Seeing Liz is busily going about her job not suspecting anything, he surreptitiously closes the door to the pub and locks it.

You boys better hurry up if you want to place a bet today, I close in a few minutes, she says to them in a bored, matter-of-fact tone as she continues to take down the old sheets.

The long blonde-haired Mick who is the last to arrive casually walks up behind her and pulls a small, replica revolver from his pocket, points the gun at her and demands, Luv we aren't bettin today, this is a collect so let's go over to the cage now.

Liz is frozen to the spot, not speaking, not moving a muscle. In the meantime, the other bikie, Justin, quickly walks over to the front door, closes it, locks it and flicks over the open sign.

Mick's all business, If yah don't fuckin hurry up what yah use for brains are gonna be all over tomorraʼs form guide, so move bitch.

The threat of having her head blown off is sufficient incentive for Liz to scurry over to the security door that separates the public area from where the betting slips are processed and the money is collected.

Mick's right behind her, watching her every move, Open up the cage, go inside like yah always do, but don't touch any buttons, don't press nothin otherwise sweety you'll be a dead hero. Understand?

At first, she can only nod her head, swallowing nervously, but slowly her power of speech returns and in a quivering voice she replies, Please don't shoot, I . . . I understand, I'll do what you want.

Good so don't fuck about, go over to them three tills, open them up and take out all the money and put it in this bag. NOW, throwing the large carry bag at her.

She's too slow for Mick's liking so he gives her a slap around the side of her face. Fuckin hurry up bitch.

He gets the desired result; the first till is emptied into the pre-offered bag, quickly followed by the second and third tills. Mick looks at his watch it has taken less than three minutes. Waving the gun menacingly at Liz he tells her to walk to the front entrance where Justin's standing guard.

With the three of them at the door, Mick gives her a final command, Listen bitch, listen good. When we open the door yah turn right and walk down the street, do not turn around and do NOT go inside the pub, simply keep walkin towards town. One of our mates is across the road upstairs in one of them buildins with a rifle, if he sees yah doin anythin other than walkin down the road his instructions are to blow yah fuckin head off. Now is that clear?

Liz is very scared and she's crying now, begging, Please don't shoot me I'll do exactly as you want, just tell your friend not to shoot me, please.'

For show, he pulls out a cheap walkie-talkie, presses the send button and exclaims to his fictitious mate in one of the commercial buildings across the road, Sam, she comin out, I've told the bitch what to do, so if she doesn't follow our orders just shoot her in the head. See yah in five.

Ignoring her pleading he looks at the longhaired Justin, Are the bikes ready?

Justin opens the door and answers, Sure are boss, all are ready to go.

Mick turns back and looks at Liz, "Just keep yah mouth shut, turn right and keep walkin and yah'll be alright. Me mate won't shoot yah.