‘Go on.’ Billy shoves me forward – I stumble a bit in the dark, but keep going. Using the torch in Billy’s hand, we look around. The warehouse is huge, we walk for maybe twenty seconds before we see them; over there, to our left, the long rectangular boxes that have Ironico printed across the side. We pick them up; three boxes each, just like we were told. Then it’s back to the door we’ve broken in through, but it’s so bloody dark. Bits of machinery and crates and pallets are all over the place. Every few steps we knock into or trip over something. We’re about halfway there, the green light above the exit’s clearer. But then another torch. Bigger and brighter; shining in our eyes. ‘Shit.’ A dim light flicks on behind him and we see the uniform ... not a cop, a security guard; totally blocking the narrow doorway. Billy smacks into me.
