《Four idiots in a shed》02 - Building the tank

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"Little did he know we had a heavy session last night," Nik said, flipping his visor down and finishing a weld. "I am properly over-hung."

"Tell me about it. When I woke up and Colin was making soup in the kitchen I almost lost my dinner, or at least the liquid dinner we had. Actually, did we eat last night?" Rich was looking decidedly worse for wear, they were both hiding on the inside of the old tank, pretending to do work. "Do you have to weld? The smell is making me nauseous."

"It's that or grinding. If there isn't any noise every so often he's going to know we aren't working." Nik said, flipping his welding helmet up, "You could make yourself useful and go pick up that order we placed for supplies."

"I honestly don't believe I should be driving today. I don't think I should be out of bed today." He got up out of the uncomfortably sprung gunner's seat and squeezed past Nik, the space inside the tank was not meant for comfort, especially if you were a tall muscular adult. "I might go try to do some paperwork." He squinted at the sunlight, remembering why he had wanted to be inside the tank in the first place.

As he made his way to the desk in the corner Guy appeared, looking far too lively. "We may be getting some company shortly. Act hungover if they do arrive."

"How'd you know?" Rich asked, thankful for a reason not to hide his hangover.

"Colin made me this detector, it shows when the Hun's radios are nearby." He showed Rich the box.

Rich turned the box over in his hands, "You should let us take this apart, I bet you we could make it smaller. Colin does good work but nothing he makes is small."

"Okay, once we are sure we aren't under investigation." Guy agreed. "Until then, I like having a little forewarning of their visits. Let Nik know." He placed the box on a shelf in the corner of the room and headed out into the yard.

Rich put on some dark glasses and then wandered back to the tank, "Nik, apparently we should be expecting a visit from our evil overlords sometime soon. You are allowed to look suitably hungover." He noticed a low snore coming from under Nik's darkened welding helmet and decided it wasn't worth waking him.

A few minutes later a platoon of sharply dressed militia marched in to find Rich behind the desk with his head in his hands looking decidedly unwell. The noise woke Nik who spluttered "Wha? What's going on? What are all the soldiers doing here?" Before being violently sick into his welding helmet.

"What can I do for you fine officers today?" Rich said, ignoring the retching in the background. It certainly didn't go unnoticed by the soldiers though.

"Take off your glasses." The obvious leader commanded.

Rich removed his dark glasses reluctantly, exposing his bloodshot light-sensitive eyes. "What is this about?" He asked, squinting at the man in the elaborate uniform, it had gold ropes, a shiny helmet with a feather on top and the man had a long sword hanging from his hip.

"Where were you last night?" No question as to his name, the three were fairly well known considering the frequent visits from the constabulary.

"My house, we had a few drinks to celebrate Nik's birthday." He answered with a frown, "Why?"

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"Who was with you that could corroborate this?" He asked, already looking at Nik who was sitting looking sorry for himself in the door of the tank.

Rich pointed to Nik, "Him, the boss and our friend Colin. Just the four of us. Why?"

"Good." The officer clicked his heels together and marched his troops out without another word, obviously satisfied with their story.

Before the last of the militiamen filed out of the door, Rich turned to Nik and said loudly, "What the heck was that about?"

***

"I suspect Colin might be in custody," Rich said to Guy as they drank their third cup of tea for the day. "They didn't seem too insistent on fact-checking so perhaps he isn't in that much trouble. There were a lot of soldiers for that short conversation though."

"It was a shed load of soldiers. Scared the spew outta me." Nik said, staring morosely into his mug as if it held the answer to life's questions.

"What are we going to do if Colin folds?" Rich asked. Guy didn't seem to be paying attention, "Guy!" He shouted, causing Nik to hold his head and groan in pain.

"I heard you, I'm thinking, okay?" Guy snapped. He paced up and down, fingers steepled in front of his mouth. "I think we're just going to have to trust him. I don't think we can do anything if he rats us out, we have been giving him raw materials, tooling up his workshop, fixing my tank's weapons. It won't look good."

"Damn." Rich sighed, "I mean, I trust him but I don't like it. If they decide he is a threat... I've heard some nasty stories of the torture methods they use."

They went back to pretending to work, thankful that Guy had found something to busy himself with outside in the yard. "Oh god, I can't wear this helmet, can I borrow yours? Mine still smells like sick." Nik asked dejectedly.

"Erm...no? Use the boss's one, it's not like he uses it much." Rich replied, concerned for the sanctity of his prized PPE, he had spent a long time spray painting it to look like a giant bullet and he was proud of his work, though Nik teased him about it looking like something else. "Either that or we duck off sick. It's not like we are getting much done."

"Ugh. I'm all for that idea, I just don't think either of us should drive just now." Nik looked longingly at the faraway door, imagining the walk, "Perhaps we can convince him it's his idea and get him to drive?"

*** In the end, they walked, a long slow excruciating walk through noisy streets in the harsh light of an overcast day. By the time they got home both men were feeling a lot better, unfortunately, they were met at their own doorway by an armed guard. At least the man with the machine gun looked slightly sympathetic.

"Sorry guys, can't let you in until the investigation is over." The man said in a very English accent, standing straight and looking very smart in his uniform.

"What investigation? And how did you get in? You didn't break my locks did you?" Rich asked, the hangover returning slightly.

"Don't worry, it's just routine." The officer whispered conspiratorially, then he continued, "We don't break locks, we have all the keys."

For some reason that made Nik's blood chill. They may not have been under direct investigation but the authorities still knew enough to have a copy of their keys, was that true of every house?

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Nik swallowed the lump in his throat and asked, "How long?" The guard just shrugged and suggested they not wait to find out.

Not knowing what else to do, the two friends wandered down the road to the swing park they used to frequent as children. It hadn't been changed or maintained in at least forty years, the chains on the swings left lines of rust on the men's overalls and the rough wooden seats were missing almost all of their green paint. After gingerly testing the swings with their full weight they sat and fumed quietly.

"So, on the watch list eh?" Nik finally said.

"Oh god. I could murder Colin just now for dragging us into all this." Rich kicked harder on his swing, "If they take us in for interrogation I'm telling them all his secrets. Even his crush on the barmaid in the Bear and Whistle."

"What, Rosa?" Nik asked, stopping his swing abruptly. "She's three times his age!"

"No! Petra with the tattoos."

"Oh, that makes more sense," Nik admitted, kicking off again. "I heard someone say the only places she didn't have tattoos were her palms and the soles of her feet. Not sure about the mullet though." He swung in silence for a few minutes, "Six foot six is a bit tall for me too."

They stayed at the park for an hour, neither of them keen to face the militia and dreading what they might find on their return. Eventually, though, they got cold and bored enough to return home. The sky had turned a threatening grey colour by the time they reached their front door. The guard was gone and as Nik put his key in the lock there was an ominous rumble and fat drops of rain started to fall.

"Just in time!" Rick said, tumbling quickly through the door behind him. "Though a bit of water might get the stench of sick off those overalls!" Then he noticed Nik was standing like a statue in front of him, "What's wrong?" He asked, peering over his friend's shoulder. "Oh… buggering hell." The Jacks had not been careful in searching their house but they had been thorough. Every belonging had been removed from drawers, cupboards and shelves and emptied into a pile in the middle of the room.

He walked past Nik and picked up a picture frame from the pile, it was open at the back, missing the photograph and the glass was cracked. "What a bloody mess."

"This is routine?" Nik asked listlessly. "I can't deal with this. I'm going to bed."

He shuffled off, leaving Rich standing in the living room in the middle of the detritus. "Happy bloody birthday Nik," Rich muttered as he stooped to begin the arduous process of tidying up.

It took him half an hour with a bin to make a dent in the living room morass. By the time he had cleared enough space that he could sit on the sofa he decided it was most certainly time for tea. He clambered out of the living room only to find the kitchen similarly gutted, fortunately, they had piled the contents of the cupboards in here on top of the counters and hadn't just smashed their chinaware into the middle of the floor.

"Oh heck, where's the kettle?" He asked, talking to himself. He carefully moved the pile of pans which appeared to be stacked where the kettle normally lived. It wasn't there.

With a sigh, he filled the smallest pan with water, cleared the cutlery from the stove and set it to boil some water the old fashioned way. As he waited for it to heat he worked his way through the mess, first finding a cloth and cleaning the cupboards and drawers, there was no reason not to use this as an excuse for a spring clean.

He was only two drawers in by the time the underpowered electric ring had heated the water and as he poured the water into a mug he heard Nik's footsteps on the stairs.

"Didn't get to sleep then?" He asked his friend.

"My room is just as much of a mess. They even stripped the bed. I've just about got stuff back to normal in there now." He took the mug that Rich handed him. "You read my mind. Any biscuits?"

They both looked around the room but there were no obvious signs of biscuitry except in the deconstructed form of flour and sugar.

They each sipped their tea in silence, staring at the mess. "At least they left the sugar. That cost me all my spare ration stamps."

"You know, they don't like people who stand against them but they sure don't make it easy to like them," Nik stated after finishing his mug.

"It's a show of force, some kind of discouragement. They're saying 'Look, we can wreck your lives with casual abandon.' and hoping that we cower and meekly play along." Rich finished his own tea and took Nik's mug to wash up.

"I wouldn't be too disparaging of the authorities, they probably bugged the place. Too much anarchical talk and they will be battering down the doors." Nik said bitterly. "Anyway, I'm actually off to bed now. Don't do too much here, I can help you tomorrow. Perhaps just focus on your bedroom."

*** Rich didn't go to bed, though he did tidy the bedroom. He also tidied the bathroom, and the laundry and did a load of washing, finished the kitchen and was having another go through the huge pile in the living room before there was a knock on the door.

With no small amount of trepidation, he carefully opened the front door a crack before peering around the edge. With relief, he threw it wide open to let his boss in. "Did they ransack your place too?" He asked bitterly.

"Yeah, and they are currently tearing the yard to pieces. I have no idea what Colin said to make them do this but it scares the pants off me." Guy lifted a four-pack of beer he was carrying, "Hair of the dog?"

Rich's face turned slightly green and he shook his head, "I might have a tea whilst you partake. I'm still a little bit seedy."

Guy looked around the house as Rich boiled the kettle which he had actually found in the bath, "You've been busy. If it was anything like my house this must have taken all day."

"Yeah but you know me, I can't stand the idea of a mess in the house. Prevents me from sleeping." He fished out a bottle opener and passed it to Guy. "Enforced spring cleaning."

They walked into the living room and Rich fished the cushions for the couch out of the dwindling pile in the middle of the room, found the covers and put them on before having a well-deserved sit down on the old worn sofa.

"I might need to pay you to tidy my house. Actually, we need all hands on board for the yard tomorrow, I dread to think what that might be like." Guy took a long sip of his beer and idly fitted a photograph back into its frame. "Has Nik gone to bed?"

"About five hours ago! I think he may have had actual, honest to god alcohol poisoning."

"Hey, if you both need tomorrow off it's fine. The yard can wait." He fished a cribbage board from the pile and looked at Rich, "You play crib?"

"It was my dad's, I mean, I can play but we don't. Not in years." He watched as Guy fished about in the pile looking for the last of the four little pegs to put back in their sliding compartment under the board. "Not since Dad died really."

Guy nodded, he had gone to the funeral. All of their fathers had died during the last big push into Asia, all conscripted when the boys had been in their teens. They had lived at the boarding school together for a time since their mothers had all been killed in an explosion years earlier, a rocket had hit their town hall during a WRI meeting. He was the eldest of the four friends and had only escaped the war by months, in the end only having to serve his two-year compulsory service in relative peace.

"You should bring this to work, we could play during our breaks." He suggested, finding the last peg stuck inside the pile of the rug.

"So, Nik thinks they probably bugged the place. I pity the poor sod who has to listen to our boring conversations." Rich said, trying to curtail any talk of the underground workshop just in case it was true.

Guy laughed as if the idea was farcical, even though he knew it could be true. "Oh god, considering nobody ever comes to my place all they would hear is me singing to myself!"

He finished his beer and stayed long enough to help Rich finish tidying the living room, knowing full well that he wouldn't go to bed before it was done. He then took the long lonely drive to his own family home, he had already tidied the two rooms he used, the bedroom and the kitchen. He hadn't opened any of the other rooms in years, they held too many memories.

*** Colin showed up at the yard the next afternoon looking and smelling decidedly dishevelled. "I don't suppose I could cadge a lift home?" He asked in a pitiful voice.

"Sit," Nik said, pointing at the couch. "I'll get you a tea and some food. Then you can explain yourself."

"I think that's a bit much to ask the bloke Nik!" Rich said, "I don't think a team of biologists, an army of behavioural scientists and a wallpaper of Venn diagrams could explain Colin."

That cracked a small smile from the man as he sat down. "Well, there's not much to tell. It's all a case of unfortunate timing really." He accepted the sandwiches Nik handed him, "Thanks Nik, sorry if I'm eating your lunch."

"Happily donated Colin, especially since they're Rich's," He said, causing Rich to splutter his tea in the background.

"Well, I met an old school friend down the pub a few nights back yeah?" The three men all nodded, "Turns out, the Jacks are watching him 'cos they got a tip-off. He and some mates were planning some attack the other night so they picked up anyone they saw talking to him in the week leading up to it."

"Makes sense. Perfectly understandable." Guy said, playing devil's advocate.

"Yeah, well that's where the bad timing comes in. If I had been at home when they came knocking then they would have questioned me and let me go. As I was out all night, they assumed I was out to meet the attackers so it became a big thing." Colin nodded his thanks as Nik handed him a steaming mug of tea.

"So, I take it they had to make sure we were not all in on it together. Providing each other with an alibi. Makes sense, I just wish they didn't make so much mess." Guy said with a shake of his head.

Colin looked around when he heard this and noticed for the first time that the yard and the workshop were not the neat tidy workspaces they normally were. "Damn…sorry guys."

"Hey, it's not your fault. Just, be more careful who you speak to in pubs." Guy assured him, "Eat up, I'll take you home."

***

It took another two days to finish tidying the yard, they had helped Colin tidy his house in the evening too, whilst subtly suggesting the place may be bugged. They also stopped spending evenings in the basement and instead knuckled down at work, spending long hours getting the tank ready for painting.

"It needs the ammo storage Nik, you can't just ignore it because there is too much welding." Guy was putting his foot down, he was the man currently paying the bills after all.

"But I could just glue the tops of the shell casings to the side and it would look authentic. Welding around all those tubes is going to take days!" He wasn't actually bothered but he did like to wind Guy up about the tank.

"We'll get Rich to help, he can die-grind the finished welds."

"What's this I'm doing?" Rich asked, wheeling out from under the tank on his back.

"Lots and lots of grinding," Nik answered.

"But I'm seam-sealing the underside, there are more seams under here than in an octopus's tuxedo. After that, I have to do the inside too!" He complained as the black tar-like sealer oozed out onto his chest unnoticed.

"Fine! I will do the grinding. Happy?" Guy conceded.

"Yep." Both men replied happily.

"You know, this would be a lot easier if you had let us build that hoist." Rich grumbled wheeling himself back under the chassis.

"So, where are you getting two hundred and seven six-pound shells from?" Nik asked as he examined the plans.

"We already have them. People love the old brass shells so we never sent them to be melted down, they're gathering dust in the shed outside. I probably have at least twice that number." Guy disappeared out for a minute before returning with a dusty old shell casing. "You probably should check they fit that pipe we bought."

Nik slotted the spent round into the thin-walled tube which they had purchased six months before. "Yep, it fits as though I had the original specifications and ordered the tube accordingly. Surprising that." He said, smugly.

"Very good, I have some old ammo cans kicking about too, not sure where I can get the six thousand rounds of .303 brass from though, let alone the stuff for the Webley. Nobody uses .445 anymore." Guy mused.

"Why fill the cans at all? They're just for show." Nik asked, pulling the long pipe over to the chop saw.

"Authenticity. Perhaps just because I can." Guy shrugged and went to find the ammo cans.

Nik did worry about Guy sometimes, the tank project which started as a quick money maker had turned into a bit of an obsession for him. Nik's own obsession with attention to detail surely didn't help, the tank would certainly run better than any built by the army. He just wished Guy would let him make it better, it didn't even have to look different for it to have better suspension, power and drivability. It would almost have been easier to make it that way. He shook his head and began the first of at least two hundred and six cuts, he was not looking forward to welding all those tubes to a steel plate. Leaving the saw doing its job he went to mark out the holes in the plate steel so that he could drill and cut it with the plasma cutter.

***

"We're getting close guys." Rich said as he scored another job off of the list on the blackboard, "I think it is possibly time to rename the infinite list of unending jobs." The list did in fact have that title, he used an eraser to rub it out. "I propose, 'the stupidly long list of fiddly jobs'."

"Seconded," said Nik immediately.

"Motion carried, write it in." Guy agreed. "Perhaps we should erase the complete ones? It's getting hard to tell what's not crossed out." He suggested.

"But then you might forget how much we actually have done so far!" Nik said, shocked that he would even consider such a thing. "Also, how would we know if something is done or just forgotten about?"

"Fair point. How about we asterisk the remaining jobs and erase the asterisks when we finish a job." Guy said, trying to compromise.

Rich spent a few minutes doing that, he also put smaller dots beside the jobs needed before the chassis could go for paint. "Okay, what do you think, should we try for two weeks?"

"You think we could be done with all those jobs in two weeks?" Guy asked incredulously.

"Nah, we might just get it ready to strip for paint though," Nik admitted. "Whilst it's at the paint shop we have even more work to do though." He started listing the jobs and Guy groaned, it was lucky he had no other real outgoings otherwise this project could have bankrupted him. As it was, getting the paint done would be a tight squeeze on his wallet.

***

"Seems odd, all this space in the workshop. It's been ages since we started this project." Nik said. He was lying on his back on the ground where the tank normally sat, staring into space.

"Hmm." Rich agreed half-heartedly, distracted by the giant antique engine he was stripping. "Pass the cheater bar please?”

Nik heaved himself off the ground, fished out the eight-foot hollow bar and handed it over. “You know, I’m going to miss this project. What do you think he’s going to have for us to do next?”

“Don’t know,” Rich muttered as he rocked the long bar back and forth, eventually, there was a loud crack. “Oh yeah, that was satisfying.”

He proceeded to loosen the other nine bolts as Nik played with what looked like a ball of rust. “I really don’t want to go back to chopping things up with the gas axe. I like making things.”

“Yep,” Rick said as he tapped the engine with a mallet, “lift your end.” They lifted the rocker cover off the engine, it was surprisingly heavy.

“Is there any point doing this? We could put in a modern engine easily enough, I doubt anyone would notice.” Nik asked, he was obviously a little down.

“It’s what Guy wants,” Rich told him, knowing the question was rhetorical.

“Perhaps we can convince him to restore something else? Something interesting like an aeroplane or a train. Yeah, a train. That would be great.” Nik said, slightly more upbeat. “Oh! One of those huge mobile train guns, that would be perfect!”

“Well, that would be nice. I’ll let you convince the boss. In the meantime, some actual help would be nice. The project isn't finished yet." In fact, looking at the mess inside the engine, Rich was wondering if they would ever be able to finish it.

"Is that a cracked piston?" Nik asked, peering into the cylinders. Rich just groaned.

*** "So he told me 'They don't make parts for sixty-year-old engines!' to which I told him, they did sixty years ago!" Guy was regaling Colin with his work stories again. He was obviously very proud of his acquisition and hoarding of the ancient spare parts.

"I don't know how you fit all that rubbish into your yard, it's not exactly huge." Colin took a long sip of his pint before the rain watered it down too much, they were currently sitting outside a country pub miles out from town and the shabby garden umbrella was not doing its job well.

Guy shivered as a large drop of rain made its way down his collar, "That crotchety old man could have let us sit by the fire, he didn't have to sit and watch us or anything."

"Hey, be happy he at least served us a beer. He was closed." They were waiting for the paint shop foreman to come back from lunch, it was time to pick up the fully painted tank body.

"I would have happily waited in the truck," Guy grumbled, shuffling further undercover.

"Yeah but you owed me a beer. I'm surprised the boys didn't want to come though." In fact, Colin wasn't sure why he had been needed at all, it may have been a two-man job but the guys at the paint shop were capable of lending a hand.

"Well, apparently they are running their little bead blaster in shifts trying to get the parts cleaned up and painted ready for assembly. That and Nik is insisting on plug welding a bunch of the stripped bolt holes and then drilling and tapping them. He says they are too close to the edge to use recoil kits." Guy said, shaking his head. "Hey, that's the guy we're waiting for."

They both got to their feet and downed their drinks, leaving the glasses outside to collect water. The paint shop was just across the road so they flipped their collars up and ran through the bouncing rain. They arrived in time to see the large roller door opening, revealing Guy's tank in all its drab green glory. It didn't actually look like a tank at all, it was missing the tracks, had no guns and was currently suspended on straps from a really large forklift.

"It's beautiful," Guy said, entirely serious.

"It's… green." Colin countered.

They loaded the chassis and a plethora of small parts onto the flatbed of Guy's truck, Colin happily got to drive the forklift, and then they tied it down.

"Wow, it feels weird to have this painted, it's almost like it's the home stretch. I really don't like the idea of selling it now." Guy admitted.

"You've grown attached to it, like a puppy. Perhaps you can keep it and drive it to and from work?" Colin teased, tightening the last ratchet strap.

"I wish." He stared lovingly at the unfinished machine. "I doubt I will ever get to drive it further than out of my workshop." He ran a hand over the smooth paint. "Come on, I need to pay this man and pick up some spare paint, Nik has an engine he needs to make pretty."

"Oh, you need special high-temperature paint for that," Colin explained as he followed Guy into the office.

***

They used the roof hoist to remove the tank from the truck, the chain rattled loudly as Rich spun it through the hoist.

"We finished the engine!" Nik shouted to Guy over the noise.

"Awesome! Did you start it?" He asked at the same volume.

"We thought we would wait for you, it's a fairly monumental-" The chain stopped and Nik's last word seemed to echo through the room, he coughed, slightly embarrassed by that. "Anyway, it's a fairly monumental occasion, we thought you might not want to miss it." He continued at a normal volume.

"Well, you were right. Let's do it now!" The four men moved to the corner of the workshop where the engine stood bolted onto a massive steel frame, the gearbox was disconnected and in bits on the workbench beside it.

"How do we do this?" Colin asked, looking at the engine which had no electrical parts at all, not even a starter motor.

"Well, traditionally you use a crank," Rich explained, holding up a large length of steel bar with a horseshoe shape in the middle. "But since we have power tools." He held up an air-powered rattle gun. "The boss should get the honours I think."

"It will probably take a lot of turns before it catches, we pre-oiled it so there should be no issues with wear. Just go until the black smoke." Nik told him.

Guy took the impact wrench, it already had an adapter to an inch wide square fitting. He placed the end of the gun into the crank and pulled the trigger, the torque on the handle surprised him causing him to stop the machine and reposition himself so that he could use two hands. "Okay, this time." He started cranking the engine again, this time it went round and round and round until he thought nothing was happening but just as he was about to stop and ask Nik if something was wrong the engine spluttered and roared, belching fire and a cloud of black smoke.

A cheer went up from all four men, Nik pumped the little lever on the carburettor and revved the engine until it comfortably ran at idle. It only ran for a few seconds after that though before it sputtered out.

"What's wrong, why did it stop?" Colin asked, slightly worried.

"It's out of petrol, this sixteen-litre beast sucks the go-juice pretty fast!" Nik said with a smile, "We only gave it a trickle in case something went on fire."

"Right, I think that's a knock off early and go to the pub moment." Guy decided, nobody complained.

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