36
I watch Randall smoke another cigarette. He talks to thin air. A sure sign he's brought help.
I decide it's time. I take out my mobile and text Aziz, the tall kid closest to my size.
From the eighth floor of the southern tower block, I've got the perfect view. I zoom in with the long lens camera bought with the proceeds of the Matheson raid. The southern tower stands at the far end of the estate, facing the entrance. I see Aziz appear on his bike. Hood pulled up and scarf over his face like I told him.
I lean with my elbows on a dusty kitchen worktop, camera lined up through a jagged hole in a broken glass window. It smells like a dead rat in here, but better than the lower floors. The squatters and junkies don't tend to make it this high.
I see Randall pick up the rucksack I told
