Last Light by Andy McNab Page B
Authors: Andy McNab
Tags: Fiction, thriller, Suspense, adventure, Action & Adventure, Intelligence Officers, British, Crime thriller, Stone, Nick (Fictitious character), Panama
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earlier, I'd got the message. I climbed out and nodded a greeting to the Crab corporal.
We'd only gone a few paces when Sundance called to me yet again. I went back and poked my head through the rear door, which Trainers had kept open. The roar of a transport jet made him shout and me move back into the car, my knees on the seat. 'I forgot to ask, how is that wain of yours? I hear you two were going to the fruit farm before she left. Little soft in the head as well, is she?"
I couldn't hold it any longer: my body started to tremble.
He grinned, having got from me at last what he'd been gunning for all trip.
"Maybe if you fuck up it'd be a good thing for the wee one you know, we'd be doing her a favour."
He was enjoying every moment of this. I tried to remain calm, but it wasn't working. He could see me boiling underneath.
"Hurts, eh?"
I did my best not to react.
"So, boy, just fuck off out of my face, and get it right this time."
Fuck it.
I launched myself forward off my knees and gripped his head with both hands. In one movement I put my head down and pulled his face hard towards the top of my crown. I made contact and it hurt, making me dizzy.
Once outside I threw both my arms up in surrender.
"It's OK, it's OK..."
I opened my eyes fully and looked in at Sundance. He was sunk into the seat, hands covering his nose, blood running between his fingers. I started towards the Crab, feeling a lot better as another bunch of Highlanders walked past, trying not to take too much notice of what was going on.
Trainers looked as if he was trying to decide whether to drop me or not. He still hadn't made up his mind as I virtually pushed the frightened Crab into the building with me.
Fuck 'em, what did I have to lose?
NINE
Tuesday 5 September I ease the pistol into my waistband, my wet palms sliding over the pistol grip.
If she's here I don't want her to see the weapon. Maybe she already knows what's happened ... I put my mouth against a little gap between the boxes.
"Kelly, you there? It's me, Nick. Don't be scared, I'm going to crawl towards you. You'll see my head in a minute and I want to see a big smile ..."
I move boxes and squeeze through the gap, inching towards the back wall.
"I'm going to put my head around the corner now, Kelly."
I take a deep breath and move my head around the back of the box, smiling away but ready for the worst as sweat pours down my face.
She is there, facing me, eyes wide with terror, sitting, curled up in a foetal position, rocking her body backwards and forwards, holding her hands over her ears, looking so vulnerable and helpless.
"Hello."
She recognizes me, but just carries on rocking, staring at me with wide, wet, scared eyes.
"Mummy and Daddy can't come and get you just now, but you can come with me.
Daddy told me it would be OK. Are you going to come with me, Kelly? Are you?"
"Sir, sir?" I opened my eyes to see a very concerned flight attendant.
"You
OK, sir? Can I get you some water or something?"
My sweaty palms slid on the armrests as I pushed myself upright in my seat. She poured from a litre bottle into a plastic glass.
"Could I take the bottle, please?"
It was handed to me with an anxious smile and I thanked her, taking it in a shaking, wet hand before getting it rapidly down my neck. I wiped my sweaty face with my spare hand. It had been part of the same bad dream I'd had on the Tristar. Shit, I must be really knackered. I peeled the sweatshirt from my skin and sorted myself out.
We had just hit cruising altitude on the four-and-a-bit-hour flight from Miami to Panama City, scheduled to land at about 11.40 a.m. local, which was the same time zone as the US east coast and five hours behind the UK. My window seat was next to Central America's most antisocial citizen, a mid-thirties Latino woman with big hair and lots of stiff lacquer to keep it that way. I doubted her skull could even touch the headrest, the stuff was on so thick. She was dressed in PVC,
We'd only gone a few paces when Sundance called to me yet again. I went back and poked my head through the rear door, which Trainers had kept open. The roar of a transport jet made him shout and me move back into the car, my knees on the seat. 'I forgot to ask, how is that wain of yours? I hear you two were going to the fruit farm before she left. Little soft in the head as well, is she?"
I couldn't hold it any longer: my body started to tremble.
He grinned, having got from me at last what he'd been gunning for all trip.
"Maybe if you fuck up it'd be a good thing for the wee one you know, we'd be doing her a favour."
He was enjoying every moment of this. I tried to remain calm, but it wasn't working. He could see me boiling underneath.
"Hurts, eh?"
I did my best not to react.
"So, boy, just fuck off out of my face, and get it right this time."
Fuck it.
I launched myself forward off my knees and gripped his head with both hands. In one movement I put my head down and pulled his face hard towards the top of my crown. I made contact and it hurt, making me dizzy.
Once outside I threw both my arms up in surrender.
"It's OK, it's OK..."
I opened my eyes fully and looked in at Sundance. He was sunk into the seat, hands covering his nose, blood running between his fingers. I started towards the Crab, feeling a lot better as another bunch of Highlanders walked past, trying not to take too much notice of what was going on.
Trainers looked as if he was trying to decide whether to drop me or not. He still hadn't made up his mind as I virtually pushed the frightened Crab into the building with me.
Fuck 'em, what did I have to lose?
NINE
Tuesday 5 September I ease the pistol into my waistband, my wet palms sliding over the pistol grip.
If she's here I don't want her to see the weapon. Maybe she already knows what's happened ... I put my mouth against a little gap between the boxes.
"Kelly, you there? It's me, Nick. Don't be scared, I'm going to crawl towards you. You'll see my head in a minute and I want to see a big smile ..."
I move boxes and squeeze through the gap, inching towards the back wall.
"I'm going to put my head around the corner now, Kelly."
I take a deep breath and move my head around the back of the box, smiling away but ready for the worst as sweat pours down my face.
She is there, facing me, eyes wide with terror, sitting, curled up in a foetal position, rocking her body backwards and forwards, holding her hands over her ears, looking so vulnerable and helpless.
"Hello."
She recognizes me, but just carries on rocking, staring at me with wide, wet, scared eyes.
"Mummy and Daddy can't come and get you just now, but you can come with me.
Daddy told me it would be OK. Are you going to come with me, Kelly? Are you?"
"Sir, sir?" I opened my eyes to see a very concerned flight attendant.
"You
OK, sir? Can I get you some water or something?"
My sweaty palms slid on the armrests as I pushed myself upright in my seat. She poured from a litre bottle into a plastic glass.
"Could I take the bottle, please?"
It was handed to me with an anxious smile and I thanked her, taking it in a shaking, wet hand before getting it rapidly down my neck. I wiped my sweaty face with my spare hand. It had been part of the same bad dream I'd had on the Tristar. Shit, I must be really knackered. I peeled the sweatshirt from my skin and sorted myself out.
We had just hit cruising altitude on the four-and-a-bit-hour flight from Miami to Panama City, scheduled to land at about 11.40 a.m. local, which was the same time zone as the US east coast and five hours behind the UK. My window seat was next to Central America's most antisocial citizen, a mid-thirties Latino woman with big hair and lots of stiff lacquer to keep it that way. I doubted her skull could even touch the headrest, the stuff was on so thick. She was dressed in PVC,
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