Dark Winter by Andy McNab

done if he’d left it alone, but he’d been at the Grecian 2000 again and I was catching more than a hint of copper.
    As always, his blue, diamond-patterned tie was knotted really tight up to the collar. Maybe that was the reason for his permanently blushing complexion. Maybe he did it to try and hide his neck, which always seemed to have a boil on the go. He was in his mid-forties now, and the mind boggled as to what he must have looked like as a kid. The pockmarks all over his face suggested a miserable adolescence. Maybe that was what had turned him into an arsehole.
    Judging by the sound of mugs being moved around in the kitchen it wouldn’t be long before the brew turned up, but here in the living room we were still waiting for the headmaster to take assembly. He turned a few more pages and dialled on his cell. I tried catching his eye, but he was just too distracted to notice as he read on and changed his mind about the call.
    The clomping of Yvette’s boots on the thin carpet telegraphed her arrival with a tray. She put it down on the small table in front of the settee, and poured the Yes Man’s coffee first. He had what Suzy called Nato standard: white with two sugars. Suzy got black without; me, white without. The Golf Club never forgot a detail.
    She sat down in her seat and bent to pick up one of the briefcases. The cuff rattled about on its chain as she manoeuvred the case on to her lap and flicked open the locks. The Yes Man passed a couple of his pages to her, and glanced briefly in my direction before returning to the ones remaining on the table. ‘So glad you could make it on time.’
    I looked at Suzy. ‘I think I’m early, actually, even without the prompt at my door. Sir?’ I hated calling him that, but I had to attract his attention somehow. ‘Can I talk to you alone?’
    ‘What?’
    ‘There’s something I need to discuss with you.’
    One glance at Suzy and she got the hint and made herself scarce, closing the door behind her. Yvette stayed where she was. A private word with the Yes Man automatically included her.
    ‘Well?’
    He hadn’t even looked up. I knew I was on a loser straight away.
    ‘Sir, I have a personal problem that I need to deal with urgently. I just need a little time to sort things out.’
    ‘You don’t get it, do you? You have no personal problem, because you have nothing that is personal. That headcase of a child stays with her grandparents, or goes home. It’s as simple as that. What happens to her really doesn’t matter, because you’re going to stay here and do what you’re paid for.’
    ‘Sir, I understand but—’
    ‘No buts. Shut up and get on with your job. Do you understand?’
    I nodded. For now, what else could I do? Storm out of the flat and straight into two regulators who’d like nothing more than to park me all over their garage? It was too early for that. There had to be another way.

16
    He straightened himself on the settee as Yvette went to let Suzy back in. His eyes stayed on his files as the two women passed him, and Yvette handed Suzy and me a Jiffy-bag each from her briefcase. I checked my passport. It was in the name of Nick Snell again. Everything was in order: the date of birth was correct, but some of the stamps had been changed. For starters, the Malaysian holiday visa had disappeared. I checked the worn-looking Bank of Scotland credit cards, making sure they were still valid.
    Yvette was helping herself to a sip of brew.
    ‘Is it the same CA?’
    She nodded.
    I looked at Suzy, who was doing the same as me, but much more enthusiastically. Her eyes shone, but she was trying to control her excitement in front of the boss.
    The Yes Man had put his file to one side when the phone rang again. The Golf Club picked it up and left for the kitchen, although she didn’t need to: it was impossible to hear what she was saying from more than six inches away.
    The Yes Man leant forward to pick up his brew, and fixed his gaze on Suzy. That was