On a spring evening, four men are chatting in a pub on the outskirts of Liverpool. They are discussing the logistics of a business deal. But this is a deal with a difference. The quartet are planning to smuggle drugs worth thousands of pounds into Britain from the Netherlands.
One of the men describes what he would do if he discovered an informer within their ranks: “There’s only one way to deal with a rat – put it down there and then. You cut its throat and you put it down. You don’t have tears in your eyes when you’ve done it. They’re fucking vermin. Fucking kill it.”
