engaged.
No need for any of that with this fucking thing. I just hoped my bluff was going to work.
I lifted the latch, and none too gently. Once you've decided you're going in, you might as well get it over with. I pushed the door a few inches, brought up the torch and used my body to open the door fully.
I moved immediately to the right, to avoid silhouetting my body in the doorway. The curtains were still open.
I closed the door most of the way with my shoulder, and the torch beam hit a pile of clothes draped over a wooden chair, then a watch and a glass of water on a bedside table. There was a body in the bed. It stirred, maybe as a reaction to the change in the air pressure as the door opened, or the fact that light was now shining in its face.
His head turned and his eyes opened wide. He wouldn't be able to see me, just the torchlight. I tilted it to make sure he caught sight of the pistol.
I moved quickly and knelt astride him, pinned him to the bed with the duvet taut across his chest.
I cut the light and dropped the torch onto the bed. I didn't want him to see my face yet. I wanted to keep him confused.
He started to react. 'What . . .? Who the . . .?'
He gave a grunt as I pressed the pistol against his clenched teeth. He tried to resist. I grabbed the back of his balding head with my left hand and forced the weapon down harder. Metal scraped against enamel until he eventually opened up.
I pushed the muzzle as far into his mouth as it would go.
37
He struggled for a while, not trying to escape, just trying to work out what the fuck was going on, and to breathe. He was flapping, and snorting like a horse. I moved with his chest as it arched up and down. Finally he lay still. No one will really fuck around once they realize they have a pistol in their mouth and it's not coming out.
I leant towards his left ear. His cheek smelled of coal tar soap. 'You have two choices. Die if you don't help me, live if you do. Nod if you understand.'
The pistol moved up and down.
It's always better to take your time at moments like this. If you've got somebody who's flapping and you say, 'OK, what's all this shit about Leptis?', he can't talk because he's got this weapon stuck in his mouth, so he gets all confused about what you expect of him. It's better to do it as a process of elimination. Then, once he got in the swing of things, I could grip him and get him spewing out everything he knew.
'If there's anyone else in the house, nod slowly.'
There was no movement of the pistol.
'Dogs?'
No movement.
'Anyone turning up before first light?'
No movement.
He gagged and his Adam's apple worked overtime. With his jaw wide open he'd lost his ability to swallow.
'It's Nick Stone. You remember.'
The pistol moved up and down, with purpose.
'That Libyan in Tripoli called you Leptis. Yes?'
He nodded.
'The only people who have that information are the Libyan, you and me, right?'
He nodded again.
'You put it in a report?'
His cheeks inflated and his lips bubbled. Saliva oozed from his mouth and down his chin. I could hear all the breathing and slurping, but there was just a touch too much hesitation. He was doing some serious thinking about what to say next.
'Don't second-guess. You don't know what I want to hear. Just tell the truth. If not, you're no good to me. Understand?'
The pistol moved up and down. I could feel his chest rising and falling more and more quickly; he was fighting for oxygen and there were too many obstructions.
He nodded.
Light sliced through the darkness outside. In the middle distance, towards the coast, two sets of headlamps moved along the road I'd parked beside.
'You still work for the Firm?'
Side to side.
Both vehicles had stopped about two hundred up the road, and both sets of lights cut.
'How many are coming?'
I pulled the weapon from his mouth and slammed it down on top of his head. Partly to control him, partly out of anger, I screamed with him. 'I wasn't the only fucker in that car . . .'
I pulled out the Explorers,
No need for any of that with this fucking thing. I just hoped my bluff was going to work.
I lifted the latch, and none too gently. Once you've decided you're going in, you might as well get it over with. I pushed the door a few inches, brought up the torch and used my body to open the door fully.
I moved immediately to the right, to avoid silhouetting my body in the doorway. The curtains were still open.
I closed the door most of the way with my shoulder, and the torch beam hit a pile of clothes draped over a wooden chair, then a watch and a glass of water on a bedside table. There was a body in the bed. It stirred, maybe as a reaction to the change in the air pressure as the door opened, or the fact that light was now shining in its face.
His head turned and his eyes opened wide. He wouldn't be able to see me, just the torchlight. I tilted it to make sure he caught sight of the pistol.
I moved quickly and knelt astride him, pinned him to the bed with the duvet taut across his chest.
I cut the light and dropped the torch onto the bed. I didn't want him to see my face yet. I wanted to keep him confused.
He started to react. 'What . . .? Who the . . .?'
He gave a grunt as I pressed the pistol against his clenched teeth. He tried to resist. I grabbed the back of his balding head with my left hand and forced the weapon down harder. Metal scraped against enamel until he eventually opened up.
I pushed the muzzle as far into his mouth as it would go.
37
He struggled for a while, not trying to escape, just trying to work out what the fuck was going on, and to breathe. He was flapping, and snorting like a horse. I moved with his chest as it arched up and down. Finally he lay still. No one will really fuck around once they realize they have a pistol in their mouth and it's not coming out.
I leant towards his left ear. His cheek smelled of coal tar soap. 'You have two choices. Die if you don't help me, live if you do. Nod if you understand.'
The pistol moved up and down.
It's always better to take your time at moments like this. If you've got somebody who's flapping and you say, 'OK, what's all this shit about Leptis?', he can't talk because he's got this weapon stuck in his mouth, so he gets all confused about what you expect of him. It's better to do it as a process of elimination. Then, once he got in the swing of things, I could grip him and get him spewing out everything he knew.
'If there's anyone else in the house, nod slowly.'
There was no movement of the pistol.
'Dogs?'
No movement.
'Anyone turning up before first light?'
No movement.
He gagged and his Adam's apple worked overtime. With his jaw wide open he'd lost his ability to swallow.
'It's Nick Stone. You remember.'
The pistol moved up and down, with purpose.
'That Libyan in Tripoli called you Leptis. Yes?'
He nodded.
'The only people who have that information are the Libyan, you and me, right?'
He nodded again.
'You put it in a report?'
His cheeks inflated and his lips bubbled. Saliva oozed from his mouth and down his chin. I could hear all the breathing and slurping, but there was just a touch too much hesitation. He was doing some serious thinking about what to say next.
'Don't second-guess. You don't know what I want to hear. Just tell the truth. If not, you're no good to me. Understand?'
The pistol moved up and down. I could feel his chest rising and falling more and more quickly; he was fighting for oxygen and there were too many obstructions.
He nodded.
Light sliced through the darkness outside. In the middle distance, towards the coast, two sets of headlamps moved along the road I'd parked beside.
'You still work for the Firm?'
Side to side.
Both vehicles had stopped about two hundred up the road, and both sets of lights cut.
'How many are coming?'
I pulled the weapon from his mouth and slammed it down on top of his head. Partly to control him, partly out of anger, I screamed with him. 'I wasn't the only fucker in that car . . .'
I pulled out the Explorers,
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