Death Run by Jack Higgins Page A

opening and then the sound of the large Scotsman’s voice. They all turned to listen, but all Jade could make out was the distinctive burr of the man’s accent.
    â€œGetting any of this?” she mouthed at Rich.
    He shook his head.
    â€œHang on,” Jade whispered. She tiptoed back through to the gallery and lay down on the floor, pressing her ear to the bare boards of the balcony. The Scotsman was right underneath, talking quietly to the gunman on guard.
    â€œYou said it would be easy. Quick in and out,” the gunman was saying. He sounded like he might be from Scandinavia.
    â€œI know what I said.” There was anger in the leader’s voice. “But I was wrong. We can discuss it later, if you want.”
    â€œNo,” said the gunman hurriedly.
    â€œWise choice. But we need to get a move on. Won’t be long before parents are worried and calling the real police, never mind Hans and Danny at the main gates.”
    â€œSome of the children have been asking for the toilet.”
    â€œOh God help us. Right, that does it. I’ve got Masro looking for a public address system. But we’ll walk through shouting if we have to. Flush him out that way.”
    â€œShouting what?”
    â€œThat if the Banker doesn’t give himself up, we start shooting our hostages.”
    Jade heard the gasp of astonishment from the guard. “But, they are children.”
    â€œThen we start with the woman.”
    â€œYou can’t kill children.”
    There was a slight pause. Jade thought maybe the Scotsman was considering this. But maybe he was just glaring at his subordinate. “Watch me,” he said.
    Rich was better at throwing than Jade. He’d suggested a paper dart. She told him to get real – it could end up anywhere. So instead, he wrote on a sheet torn from a pad in the storeroom, then screwed it into a tight ball.
    â€œI just hope Gemma realises what I’m up to,” he said.
    Jade shrugged. “She’s your girlfriend.”
    â€œNo, she’s not!”
    â€˜Oh come on – the way you hang out together. All the time.”
    â€œOh, like you and Rod Baker, I suppose.”
    Jade smiled. “Yeah, right. Hit a nerve, did I?”
    â€œYou couldn’t hit an elephant.”
    â€œI’ll tell Gemma you called her an elephant,” Jade warned him.
    Rich made his way tentatively to the front of the gallery. The guard was underneath so couldn’t see him. But the people on the edge of the stage could. Gemma was looking right at him. Miss Whitfield was glaring – like she was telling him off for sneaking away and skiving.
    He held up the ball of paper and mimed throwing it to Gemma. Then he pointed down at the floor – towards the guard and opened his hands in a theatrical gesture of bewilderment. Could he throw the paper – was the guard watching?
    Gemma was looking from Rich to the guard and back again. She gave no sign that it was safe, so he guessed it wasn’t. He’d just have to wait – but for how long?
    Miss Whitfield got down from the edge of the stage and walked briskly across towards the guard. For one awful moment, Rich thought she was going to tell him that there was a boy on the gallery who ought to be down in the hall with them and what was he going to do about it?
    â€œWhat are you doing?” the guard demanded. “Back on the stage with the children, now!”
    â€œNot until you tell me how much longer we are to be kept here,” Miss Whitfield replied, in her telling-off voice. All trace of nerves seemed to be gone. “Some of the children need the toilet and this young lady needs proper medical attention. I’ve done what I can, but she’s lost a lot of blood. Look.”
    The guard appeared from under the gallery as Miss Whitfield led him to where the woman – Eleri – was still lying on the floor. There was a blazer folded up under her head now. If it were not