Craig McCabe, Dundee Based Author of Driving Nowhere

The barmaid, after making eye contact, leaves the receiver hanging and nods. The Ginge is sat in the corner of the crowded pub and with his long wavy ginger hair it makes him look slightly out of place as he is surrounded by all the hard faces of the Dundee Utility.

The Ginge's real name is Rodney but throughout his life he has been known as Ginger or Trotter but most people who know him he is simply 'The Ginge'. It is a childhood playground thing that he has never shaken off. Even when the local constabulary knock on his door they ask to speak to 'The Ginge'.

As the pints and shots are being downed as fast as they are served The Ginge sits with a large coke. He never drinks alcohol before a battle. He isn't like the rest of them who need fuelled up to show their bravado. He is like this before every game, sits quietly and listens to his crew talk themselves up that they were the hardest casuals on the scene today. He doesn't mind all the bullshit, whatever they have to do to hype themselves up was fine with him. All the while, he is happily sipping his coke and munching on packets of Skittles and Opal fruits, anything that contains mounds of sugar. By the time he gets the call he is wired. He pushes his hair back from his face to reveal his hard features and as he squeezes through the crowd towards the payphone, all the eyes are on him.

"This is he." The Ginge says down the receiver.

"That's them on Victoria Road, polis up either side, couple of meat wagons trailin them. There's a few Jammers dotted about the side streets. You werena jokin about them bringin through a full mob eh?"

Joe the Bull hears the receiver being put down and then a silence on the end of his mobile. Joe is the leader of the young team and has been a trusted acquaintance of The Ginge for years. He is only eighteen and is nicknamed 'The Bull' due to his appearance. He is fifteen stone and most of that weight looks as though it has gathered on his neck and shoulders. He is as ruthless and as hard as they come and his fighting ability has been on par with any grown man since he was a young teenager.

The Ginge smiles at the thought of what lay ahead. He knew the Hibees would bring through a big mob, they wouldn't let him down, a quick call to their top boys guaranteed this. Their size of crew didn't faze him though, the Utility might have less members but that suited him as he didn't want anybody that was there to make up the numbers. He knew each and every face that was with him and they were all game. If he took a large mob it would end up more of a stand off or a running battle, but by keeping it tight the Hibees will think they have the upper hand and come straight for them. The Ginge downs the rest of his coke and gives Matty, his younger brother a wink. This was a signal to text Ryan, their eldest brother.

The Wise-man had been sitting in the back of a stolen van with new plates not far from where the Hibs casuals first set foot off the train. There was hardly a word said between the other men in the van in over half an hour. Each one had checked their weapons several times and went over the roles in their heads constantly. This was the big time, each of them had done petty crimes in the past but with this job the expectancy of ten years to life if they got caught was not to be taken lightly. Each one of them had spent time with The Wise-man in prison at one time or another. They were all chosen for specific reasons, none of them were from Dundee and none of them knew each other, but he trusted them with his life. Just like his father, he could always tell the difference between the rats, the mice and the loyal dogs. The only thing that ever came above and beyond the loyal dogs were family. His father Buster and The Ginge were one hundred percent straight down the line, no question. With Matty, it would all depend on what mood he was in, but he knew where his bread was buttered. His half brother Brody, was still to be tested. If the test never came, that was fine by him.

The text came through.

'Ready for kick off.'

The Ginge wraps his scarf around the bottom half of his face and pulls his hood tight over his head so that it is only his eyes that people could see. He pushes open the side door of the pub and everyone follows. He knows the CCTV are watching his every move and even with his face covered the police could still point him out from a distance due to his bouncing walk and swagger. It is only a five minute walk down Dura Street to the junction on Dens Road where they planned to cut off the Hibees path to the game. On the way, they pass two more pubs that are bursting at the seems with utility. This is the norm on game day, if they are all in the same place the police would keep them contained until the opposition were safely tucked away in the stadium. The Ginge planned it out like terrorist cells, they all knew the procedure, if one pub is closed in, then the next one takes the lead. Each pub is filled with scarfers though, this is another ploy by The Ginge so as not to arouse suspicion as the police are not concerned with genuine supporters. As soon as they walk out of the pub door the black and tangerine scarfs and flags are all left behind. Minutes later as they walk past the Balmore Bar, the pub empties and the mob expands. By the time they reach Ferraris the rest of their mob are waiting outside. They can hear the Hibees chanting as they march up Dens Road and they can see the blue flashing lights in the distance. The Ginge nods to Matty. It is another signal to text Ryan.

"Let's fucking do this." He shouts.

The now eighty strong mob moves forward and spread themselves across the road. They are met by Joe the Bull and twenty of his young team which stretches their mob to a hundred. With The Ginge at the front they turn the corner to be met with over hundred and fifty Hibs casuals and nearly fifty police. The Ginge turns to face his own mob and has his head down with his hands in his jacket pockets. He looks up at his mob and pulls his hands out of his pockets revealling a knuckle duster on each hand. He holds them out high at either side of him. He is smiling behind his scarf as he turns back to face the Hibees.

"Come on." He shouts as he charges forward with wide eyes and clenched teeth.

The Wise-man had been getting impatient as the minutes ticked by after the first text but as soon as the phone beeps for the second one he doesn't even bother reading it. He pulls his balaclava down over his face and pumps the sawn off shot gun. The first man bursts open the back doors of the van and they all follow him out onto the street. They enter the building society and shout for everyone to get on the floor. There is a slight hesitation by some customers which suits The Wise-man as this gives him an excuse to blast the shot gun. The noise is deafening and the hole it leaves in the ceiling is enough to convince the staff and customers of exactly what size of wound they will receive if they don’t do as they are told. The Wise-man stands by the doorway in silence and lets the other men shout the orders, with their various accents from different parts of the country it is highly unlikely that they will be looking for local men. One of The Wise-man's crew orders the manager to open the door to the back room that contains the large money. There is a slight hesitation, but another blast from the shot gun and the door is soon opened. It is all over in less than two minutes and the men walk out the door with sacks stuffed full with unmarked, untraceable notes. The Wise-man stands by the back door of the van until all the men have entered.

"Wait here, I'll be ten seconds." He says before he takes off across the street.

"Where the fuck are you going? We've got to move."

The Wise-man runs towards the jewellers that is parallel with the bank and before he reaches it he blasts the shotgun at the window. It is the one containing the display with the Rolex and Cartier watches. He grabs the whole display and is laughing to himself as he runs back to the van. The streets are busy with afternoon shoppers and the traffic is tight but they have thought this through well. The van has been fitted with a blue flashing light and as it rips through the streets, the unaware drivers pull over to the side to let them speed past.

There are bodies lying around the road from both mobs including some brave police officers who have tried in vain to intervene. They are trained not to put themselves at risk and with the fierce battle that is happening before them they don’t really have much option but to back off until the riot squad arrives on the scene. As soon as it kicked off, The Ginge had went out of his way to make sure that one of the officers went down. He knows that as soon as one of their own is injured the call would go through and reinforcements would be pulled from every scheme in the city. He went a bit over the top once the officer hit the deck but he knew an opportunity like that wouldn't come along too often. Once he sees the blue flashing lights appearing from nearly every direction within seconds of each other, he decides it is time for his mob to disperse.

"Bolt, bolt." He shouts.

It is the word for his mob to get the hell out of there and regroup elsewhere. As both mobs begin to scatter, the police that arrive late on the scene are grabbing and cuffing anyone that is within their grasp. The Ginge knows he is their main target and although his face was covered, every officer could pick him out. With Matty by his side they sprint off and four officers are immediately on their tail. The Ginge can hear Matty's breathing becoming heavier and he is slowing down very quickly, two of the officers grab him, The Ginge turns and nuts one of them, knocking him clean out. Matty starts struggling with the other officer and The Ginge goes over to help him. The two other officers who were also on their tail catch up with him. He stands toe to toe with one of them for a few seconds but the other sneaks behind and grabs his arm in a lock. They wrestle to the ground and the two officers are on top of him, when he looks up he sees Matty, face down, with his wrists cuffed behind his back. Ginge's violent struggle turns into a wild rage and when he sees more officers running in their direction he knows things are about to turn real bad. Then, out of nowhere, Joe the Bull appears and The Ginge feels the weight being lifted from him. He lives up to his nickname by shoulder charging the two officers and watches as they fall over like bowling pins. The Ginge quickly gets to his feet and turns to run at the officer holding Matty.

"Come on, we'll have to leave him, or we'll ah get lifted." Joe says as he pulls his arm and they both start running.

The Ginge looks back to see Matty being lifted to his feet and one of the officers picking up his mobile that has fell to the ground during the struggle.

A sense of loyalty

Prologue