by Andy McNab
I'd committed myself now. It was a card I could play only once. No way would I be living an easy existence after this. I was finished with the Secret Intelligence Service and would probably have to spend the rest of my life in a remote mountain village in Sri Lanka, looking over my shoulder.
What if the Firm decided to admit to the Americans that there'd been an op they'd forgotten to mention? Would they take the rap on the knuckles, then say, "This man killed one of your officers"? No, it didn't work that way. The Firm wouldn't know if my blanket was a bluff or not, or, if used, how much damage it could do in the hands of the press.
They'd have to take it as real; they'd have to help. They had no choice. We'd get lifted by the Firm, I'd be flown back to the UK, and then I'd take up basket weaving until they forgot about me.
Kelly was lying on the bed with a towel wrapped around her when I got back to the room. The cartoon had finished, and there was some sort of hard-hitting news-type voice on, but I didn't pay much attention to it. I was more interested in getting a response from this little girl. It seemed that I was fast running out of friends; she might be just seven years old but I wanted to feel she was on my side.
I said, "We've got to hang around for another hour or two, and then somebody's coming to..."
And then it hit me. The no-nonsense. New England female voice was saying, "... brutal murders and a possible kidnap..." I switched my attention to the screen.
She was black and in her mid-thirties. Her face was on camera, with Kev's house in the background and the Windstar still in the drive. Police were milling around two ambulances with flashing lights.
I grabbed the remote and hit the Off button.
"Kelly, naughty girl." I grinned.
"You haven't cleaned your neck. Just you go and do it right this minute!"
I nearly threw her into the bathroom.
"And don't come out until I tell you to!"
I hit the On button and kept the volume low.
The woman said,"... neighbors report seeing a white man in his late thirties, around five-foot-ten to six feet tall, medium build, with short brown hair. He arrived at the house in a white Dodge with Virginia plates at approximately two forty-five today. We now have Lieutenant Davies from the Fairfax County Police Department..."
A balding detective was standing beside her.
"We can confirm that there was a male fitting that description, and we're appealing for more witnesses. We need to know the whereabouts of the Browns' seven-year-old daughter, Kelly."
A picture came up on the screen of Kelly standing in the garden with Aida, with a spoken description. The broadcast cut back to a studio shot of the two anchors saying that the family was a victim of what appeared to be drug-related murders. A family portrait appeared on the screen.
"Kevin Brown was a member of the Drug Enforcement Administration ..."
The anchors expanded the piece into a discussion about the drug problem in the D.C. area.
There was no sound of splashing water from the bathroom.
Kelly would be out again any minute. I started flicking channels. Nothing more on the murders. I switched back to children's TV and went into the bathroom.
I hadn't heard any splashing because Kelly wasn't washing.
She was on the floor, under the sink, in the same fetal position I'd found her in at Kev's, hands over her ears to block out the news she'd just heard on the TV.
I wanted to pick her up and comfort her. The only thing was, I didn't know how. I decided to appear unaffected by her condition.
"Hello, Kelly." I smiled.
"What are you doing down there?"
Her eyes were shut so tight I could see the creases in her face. I picked her up in my arms and started to walk back into the bedroom.
"Hey, you look sleepy. Do you want to watch TV or just go to bed?" It sounded like crap to me but I just didn't know what else to say or do. Best pretend it hadn't happened.
I took the towel off to get her dressed.
"Come on, let's get some clothes on and your hair combed." I was really fighting for words now.
She just sat there. Then, as I started to pull her shirt on, she said quietly, "Mommy and Daddy are dead, aren't they?"
Getting her arms into the shirt suddenly became very interesting
"What makes you say that? I told you, I'm just looking after you for a while."
"So I'm going to see Mommy and Daddy again?"
I didn't have the words to use, or the guts to tell her.
"Yes, of course you will. It's just that they had to go away really quickly. I told you, it was too late to pick you up, but they asked me to look after you. As soon as they come back I'll take you to Mommy and Daddy and Aida. I didn't know it was going to take this long; I thought it was going to be only a couple of hours. But they will be back soon."
There was a slight pause as she worked through it all. I got her panties and placed her feet in them and pulled them up.
"Why didn't they want to take me. Nick?" She sounded sad at the thought.
I moved over to the chair and picked up her jeans. I didn't want her to see my eyes.
"It isn't that they didn't want to take you, but there was a mistake made, and that's why they asked me to look after you."
"Just like Home Alone I turned around and saw that she was smiling. I had to think about that one.
"Yeah, that's right, just like Home Alone. They left you by mistake!" I remembered watching it on a flight.
Shitty film but good booby traps. I busied myself with her jeans again.
"So when are we going to see them?"
I couldn't spend all day picking up two bits of clothing. I did a half turn and walked back toward the bed.
"That won't be for a while yet, but when I spoke to them just now they wanted me to tell you that they love you, and they're missing you, and to do everything I say and be a good girl."
There was a beaming smile on her face. I wished I had the courage to tell her the truth.
I said, "Kelly, you must do what I say, do you understand that?"
"Yeah, I understand."
She nodded, and I saw a little child needing affection.
I gave her my best attempt at a smile. I looked into her eyes.
"Come on, cheer up. Let's watch TV" We both went back to watch the Power Rangers, with a can of Mountain Dew. I couldn't take my mind off the news broadcast. Kelly's photograph had been on the TV. The receptionist the clothing store clerk, anyone might remember her. Surely the embassy had called London by now, surely every fucker knew what was going on because it was splashed all over the news. No need to wait three hours before making the call.
I'd have to go to the outside phone again because I didn't want Kelly to hear. I put Kev's jacket on, slipped the TV remote control into a pocket, told her where I was going, and left.
As I came to the stairs by the Coke machine I looked down.
Two cars had pulled up outside the reception lobby. Both were empty, but their doors were still open as if the occupants had piled out in a hurry.
I looked again. Besides a normal radio antenna each vehicle had a two-foot antenna on the back. One of the cars was a white Ford Taurus, the other a blue Chevy Caprice.
There was no time to think, just to turn around and run toward the rear fire exit like a man possessed.
Now wasn't the time to worry about how they'd found us. As I ran, the options started to race through my mind. The obvious one was to leave Kelly where she was and let them pick her up. She was a millstone around my neck. On my own, I could get away.
So why did I stop running? I wasn't too sure; instinct told me that she had to come with me.
I doubled back and burst into the room.
"Kelly, we've got to go! Come on, get up!"
She'd been drifting off to sleep. There was a look of horror on her face because of my change of tone.
"We've got to go!"
Grabbing her coat, I picked her up in my arms and
started toward the door. I snatched up her shoes and stuffed them into my pockets. She made a sound, half-frightened, half-protesting.
"Just hold on!" I said. Her legs were wrapped around my waist.
I came out onto the landing. I closed the door behind us, and it locked automatically. They'd have to break it down. I did a quick check down the corridor, not bothering to look below to see what was happening. I'd know soon enough if they were behind us.
I turned left and ran to the end of the corridor, turned left again, and there was the fire exit. I pushed the bar and it opened. We came out onto an open concrete staircase at the rear of the hotel, facing the shopping mall about a quarter of a mile away. Kelly started to cry.
There was no time to be nice. I got hold other head so that her face came right up to mine.
"People have come to take you away, do you understand that?" I knew it would frighten her, and that it would probably fuck up her mind even more, but I didn't care about that.
"I'm trying to save you. Shut up and do what I say!"
I squeezed her cheek hard and shook her face.
"Do you understand me, Kelly? Shut up, and hold me very tight."
I buried her face in my shoulder and lunged down the concrete stairs, looking for my escape route.
Ahead of us lay about forty yards of rough grass, and beyond that a six-foot chain-link fence that looked old and rusty. On the other side of that was the rear of the long row of office buildings that faced the main road. Some were brick, some were plaster, all different styles built over the last thirty years. The rear administration area was strewn with clutter and large Dumpsters.
There was a pathway running across the empty ground, and it went through at a point where a whole section of the chain-link fence had crumpled or been pulled down. Maybe the hotel and office workers used it as a shortcut.
Carrying Kelly was like having a rucksack on the wrong way. That was going to be no good if I had to run fast, so I threw her around onto my back, linking my hands under her butt so I was carrying her piggyback. I got to the bottom of the stairs and stopped and listened. No sound of them shouting or breaking down the door yet. The urge was just to run for it across the grassy dirt toward the gap in the fence, but it was important to do this correctly.
Still with Kelly on my back, not bothering to tell her what was happening, I got onto my hands and knees. I lowered myself to within about a foot of the floor and slowly stuck my head around the corner. There was a chance that once I'd seen what was happening, I'd choose a different route.
The two cars had pulled up to the bottom of the staircase by the Coke machine. The fuckers were obviously upstairs. I didn't know how many of them there were.
I realized that the ground was in fact dead ground to them now, and started running. The rain had been light but constant, and the ground was muddy. It was reasonably well looked after, littered only here and there with bits of paper, old soft drink cans, and burger wrappers. I kept heading for the gap in the chain-link fence.
Kelly was weighing me down; I was taking short, quick strides and not bending my knees too much, just enough to take her weight, bending forward from the hips. She made in voluntary grunts in time with the running movements as the wind was knocked out of her.
We reached the broken section of fence, which was buried in the mud. I heard the screech of tires, then the sound of protesting suspension and body work. I didn't bother looking around, just dug deep to try to lengthen my stride.
Once through, we were faced with the rear of the office buildings. I couldn't see the alleyway we'd come through earlier. I turned left, looking for any other route through to the main drag. There had to be one somewhere.
Now on asphalt, I could make good speed, but Kelly started slipping. I shouted, "Hold on!" and felt her tense up more.
"Harder, Kelly, harder!"
It wasn't working. With my left hand I got hold of both her wrists and pulled them down in front of me toward my waist.
She was nice and tight on me now, and I could use my right hand to pump myself forward. My priority was to make good speed and distance. They would be out and running soon. I needed that alleyway.
It's a strange thing when people are being chased. Subconsciously they try to get as much distance as they can between themselves and their pursuers, and, whether it's in an urban environment or a rural one, they think that means going in a straight line. In fact, what you need to do is put in as many angles as possible, especially in a city or a town. If you come to an intersection with four options, it makes the chasers' job more difficult: they have a larger area to cover and have to split forces. A hare being chased in a field doesn't run in a straight line; it takes a big jump, changes direction, and off it goes again the pursuers are gaining momentum in a straight line and all of a sudden they have to change direction, too, which means slowing down, reevaluating their position. I was going to be that hare. As soon as I got to the end of the alleyway I was going to hang a left or a right, I didn't even know which yet, and run as fast as I could until I found other options.
I found the alley. No time to think if it was the right decision just make one. I could hear shouting behind me, maybe 100 to 150 yards away. But it wasn't directed at me.
They were too professional for that. They knew it wouldn't have any effect. I heard the cars turning around. They'd be trying to cut me off. I ran.
By now I was out of breath, with this seven-year-old on my back. My mouth was dry, and I was breaking into a sweat.
Kelly's head was banging onto the back of mine, and I was holding her so tight her chin was digging into my neck; it was starting to hurt her and she was crying.
"Stop, stop. Nick!"
I wasn't listening. I reached the end of the alley and ran into a totally different world.
In front of me was a narrow road that ran the length of the office
buildings, and on the other side of it a grass embankment that went downhill to the main drag. Beyond that lay parking lots and the malls. Traffic noise drowned out Kelly's cries. The flow of vehicles was fast in both directions, despite the wet road. Most had their headlights on, and their wipers on intermittent. I stopped.
We must have looked a sight, a man with a shoeless child on his back, puffing and panting down the grass slope, the child moaning as her head banged on the back of his. I climbed the railings at the side of the main drag; now we were playing chicken with the traffic. Cars sounded their horns or braked sharply to avoid us. It seemed my new name was fuck, nut, or jerk. I didn't acknowledge anybody, even the ones who'd saved our lives by braking; I just kept on running.
Kelly was screaming. The traffic scared her as much as the running. All her young life she'd probably been warned about playing near the road, and here she was on a grown-up's back, cars and trucks swerving all around her.
Crossing the railings at the far side, I was also starting to worry. Kelly was slowing me down, without a doubt, and I still had quite a distance to run to get to safety. I ducked and weaved through the parking lot, using the height of the pickups and minivans to block us from their view.
At the far right of the mall I could see a computer super store, Comp USA and that was where I headed. There's always a good chance that a large store on a corner site will have more than one entrance. I expected there to be one on the other side, maybe at the rear, so even if they saw me going in, they'd have problems.
I knew the store would be hard for them to deal with, because I'd had to do this sort of thing myself in Northern Ireland.
If a player went into a shopping center, we would send only one guy in with him, then rush to seal up all the exits. It was hard enough when we knew a target, let alone having to find and identify him. If he was doing anti surveillance drills, he could go up an elevator, leave by one exit, go back in through another and up an elevator two floors, down one floor, then wander out into a parking lot, and he's gone. If these boys were professional, they'd start sealing the exits as soon as
they saw where I'd gone. I;had to be quick.
We went in through the wide automatic doors. The store had aisles and aisles of office equipment, computers, and software. I went past the checkout counters without taking a cart, still with Kelly on my back. The place was packed. I was standing there drenched with sweat, chest heaving up and down as I fought for breath. Kelly was crying. People started looking at us.
