Terry had lost some of the animosity he felt for his boss as it began to be replaced with a certain amount of pity. He looked across the desk to see the usually confident, upright figure, now with shoulders slumped and looking weary and dishevelled.

Frank started to compose himself and wiped his eye with the back of his hand. He was still the boss and needed to recover his pride. Terry was not about to rub it in and said,

‘how about a cup of coffee eh boss, and you can fill me in on that little proposition of yours.’

‘Thanks Terry, I think I needed someone to talk to. Will you make the coffee while I sort myself out?’

‘No problem boss, sweet, black and hot, just the way you like your women eh?’ They both made eye contact and Terry winked at him. Frank smiled weakly through his embarrassment and nodded. He knew Terry was making it easy for him and he was grateful as he headed down the stairs to the toilet block and an opportunity to wash his face. When he returned, gone was the self pity. Gone also was the arrogance that Terry was used to. Frank needed an ally to confide in and the employer/employee relationship had just become a lot closer.

‘Right’ he said as he slid behind the desk, how about you being the permanent driver for these runs?’

‘Tell me a bit more Frank’ said Terry as he began to warm to his boss’s more friendly demeanour.

‘Well, it would be much better from my point of view if I had a driver who I could trust. Someone I could rely on to be discreet. And, there would be some extra money in it for you because of the extra risk you would be taking.’

‘Just as a matter of interest Frank, how many runs are we talking about here?’

‘Before I tell you anything, I need some sort of commitment from you that you will take it on; I’m not prepared to tell you too much at this stage because the information is very confidential. I can tell you that I had floated the idea to the Bank of England some time ago because I was concerned that driver’s were taking a big risk in the fact that they didn’t realise the value of the loads they were hauling. I put it to them that a driver would be able to sue the arse off them if someone got wind of the load they were carrying and the driver got injured in anyway as a consequence of the theft of the load, or worse, they were caught up in a hijack situation.’

‘It’s one thing being an ordinary driver, but it’s something else entirely with the knowledge of transporting your own bank on wheels. Like I said early this morning, people could get seriously injured if this information fell into the wrong hands. There’s always the possibility that the transport details could leak out in some way and the Bank are very conscious of bad publicity of any kind. You could almost see the headlines if it became common knowledge, ‘Bank of England risk the safety of drivers just to save money’. They’d have been slaughtered by the press.

They agreed in principle to me casting my net amongst the drivers with the express proviso that only one driver would be brought on board. He would become the sole transporter for the cash. What do you think?’

‘Two questions frank, how often and how much?’

‘Are you saying you’ll do it? I can’t tell you any more without your agreement.’

‘It’s a bit of a catch 22 Frank, how can I say I’ll do it. The risks might be too much. Everybody’s got their price. I might say yes to you, and then you tell me it’s only worth a hundred quid or so. If that’s the case, I’m not prepared to risk my neck for a hundred quid.’

‘Fair comment Terry. You’re right. In your shoes, I’d want to know up front what it’s worth.’

Terry was gobsmacked, was this the new Frank? Actually saying that Terry was right. He saw a smile spread across his boss’s face.

‘OK, cards on the table. No more fucking about. What would you say to a grand each trip?’

‘Are you fucking jesting Frank, a thousand quid for one trip?’

‘I thought that might make you sit up. Yeah, when I pointed out the dangers and all that went with it, they said they would pay the driver one thousand pounds per journey, provided he was prepared to sign a confidentiality document, it also says you can’t sue them either, but I thought you’d go for that eh?’

‘One thousand fucking pounds’ said Terry as he sat back and interlocked his hands behind his head and gave a soft whistle. ‘Beam me up scotty, I think I’m in heaven. Where do I sign Frank, and when’s the next one?’

Frank jerked his thumb towards the yard,

‘the next one’s out there, I think you might know about that one,’ as he laughed. ‘Tomorrow morning. Think you can manage that??’

‘No problem, how many do they shift, one every six months or so?’

Frank was starting to enjoy himself now, he couldn’t remember the last time he felt so relaxed. The fact that he was able to confide in someone seemed to lift a huge burden from his shoulders. He wasn’t acting in secret anymore; he could talk about things now. They both had something in common. There was a shared purpose in the secrecy and it excited him as much as Terry.

‘One or two mate. But not every six months, how about every month.’

Terry spat the last of his coffee out as he spluttered,

‘every month; they do this every fucking month?’

Now it was Frank who interlaced his hands behind his head as he rocked back playfully on his chair.

‘They move at least one box a month, sometimes two. Each box contains between 24 and 30 million quid Terry, and the best of it is, your Grand is paid cash in hand. The last thing the Bank want is for someone to become aware that their money is being moved in this way. It was agreed that rather than issue cheques, it would attract less attention if it was paid in cash. What do you think of that then, not bad eh?’

‘Not bad, not bad, it’ll be like fucking Christmas every month Frank. Happy fucking days.’

Frank sat forward on his chair and brought Terry back down to earth.

‘A word of warning Terry. It might be nice to be getting this extra cash but, you and I well know there are some evil bastards in our game. I wasn’t joking about the dangers involved. The Bank realise those same dangers which is why they are prepared to pay so well and to do it in cash.’

Terry realised that Frank was actually serious and concerned for his well being, something he had not experienced before.

‘You’re right,’ said Terry being serious himself. ‘It’s not money for nothing. Let’s have the contract to sign before you change your mind and give it to some other wanker of a driver,’ as they both smiled across the desk.

‘Now’ said Terry as he signed on the dotted line without even reading the conditions, ‘how does this work and where do we take it to?’

Frank poured them both another coffee as they discussed the why’s and wherefores.

Terry’s little germ of an idea he’d had earlier when driving back from Bristol now started to recede. He had been thinking of some way to steal some of the money from the back of the container and thought that by pumping Frank for some information, he might be able to find a weakness in the system. Now that Frank had proposed him as the regular driver from now on, he would do very nicely out of the cash incentives and there was now no need to be thinking dishonestly.

‘Right, I get two days notice. They always use the same boxes, they will always be ACLU containers and there are six that they use. They use the same boxes in rotation. The last four digits are 6533, 6534 and so on up to 6538. When you drop one off at the incinerator, they will give you one of the other numbered containers to bring back.

They look the same as an ordinary box, and they only ever use a standard good quality seal so as not to draw attention to the contents, but the door hinges have been reinforced so that no one can remove the hinge pins and open the doors without disturbing the seal.’