Dead Centre ns-14

by Andy McNab

  Awaale turned away from the window. ‘OK, Mr Nick.’ He gave it the full John Wayne. ‘Let’s do it.’

  As I followed him towards the Cessna, Awaale started chatting like we were off to the pub for a pint. ‘So, I’ll give you my father’s number. We’ll all meet up in Minneapolis.’ He leant towards me and went back into conspiratorial mode. ‘Once I have taken over the clan I will then visit my father and tell him to come home. But, first, you’ll join us in Minneapolis, won’t you?’

  ‘Yep, no drama, mate. But we have to get out of here now, OK?’

  I looked ahead at Joe and drew my index finger across my throat to signal that he should kill the engine.

  We needed calm. No loud noises; no props turning; no fingers on triggers. We’d get the exchange done nicely and quietly and then we’d fuck off. If it did go noisy, at least we’d be doing it from a steadier platform.

  Joe got the message. The electrics started winding down.

  Awaale carried on talking. ‘Mr Nick, please, all is good.’ He swivelled and began walking backwards, talking coolly to his crews and motioning for them to lower their weapons.

  ‘That’s good, mate. It’s high time your lads took their chill pills.’

  I could hear another aircraft’s electrics winding down in the distance. I peered into the gloom at the bricklike silhouette of the Skyvan.

  ‘Awaale — who the fuck are they?’

  ‘Just guys waiting to pick someone up, I suppose. Like you are doing, Mr Nick. It happens all the time.’

  We now stood equidistant between the Cessna and the technicals. ‘OK, everyone, listen in!’ I felt like I was trying to marshal a school trip. ‘Everyone’s getting a bit too sparked up so we’re going to have a change of plan. This is what’s going to happen. I’m going to get the bags and bring them back here, to where we are standing right now. Have we got that so far?’

  Awaale translated for his crews and Mr Lover Man mumbled away at Genghis. Frank’s lads still kept their weapons in the shoulder, no matter what the other fuckers were doing. The crews now had theirs down, held by the magazines or slung over their shoulders. A couple lit up. Another two even got on their mobiles again.

  ‘OK, once I start walking back with the bags, BB, Stefan and Tracy come over and meet me here. Has everybody got that? Awaale, make sure these people understand what’s going on. Shout at them, mate. I don’t want to leave any room for doubt.’

  I spun round to Mr Lover Man. ‘Your friend getting this?’

  He muttered something to Genghis and nodded.

  Awaale went into Alexander the Great mode, rallying his troops while another cloud of cigarette smoke drifted from the back of Erasto’s technical.

  BB couldn’t help himself. ‘Nick, you’ve got to fucking grip these boys. We—’

  ‘BB! Shut — the — fuck — up!’

  The crews fidgeted. The shouting was making them uneasy. Awaale kept giving them commands, but it was turning back into an argument.

  I raised my hands again and slowly brought them down, as if that was going to steady the situation the way Awaale had. ‘Everybody stay calm. Keep your weapons down.’

  I turned and pointed at Mr Lover Man and Genghis. ‘That’s you as well. Fingers off triggers, lads.’

  One fucking slip and this all went to rat-shit.

  19

  I gave it about fifteen seconds after Awaale had stopped, everybody had calmed a little and AKs were lowered. ‘OK, I’m going to start walking … now.’

  I moved towards the money and lifted each bag in turn, one over the right shoulder, one over the left, making a point of hooking a finger through each of the ring-pulls. I looked at Awaale, and then at everybody else, to make sure we were all on the same page. ‘OK, let’s get walking.’

  I took the first few paces towards Awaale, making sure I could see the other three coming towards me.

  We all converged beside Awaale. I bent at the knees and placed the bags on the tarmac. I kept my fingers threaded through the ring-pulls.

  Awaale unzipped each bag in turn and checked their contents.

  ‘Nothing’s changed, mate. Check the wrappers — look at where you sliced them with your thumbnail.’

  ‘It’s all there, Mr Nick. We trust you. It’s all there.’

  I let go of the ring-pulls and tucked them inside the bags.

  ‘OK, mate, now you start heading to Erasto, nice and slow, nice and controlled, and then you get your crews out of here.’

  ‘No problem, Mr Nick, no problem.’ He lifted the bags and we both turned to go our separate ways.

  ‘Tracy, BB — nice and slow towards the aircraft, when I say. Tracy, don’t cross in front of the lads. Keep well to the right of them.’

  If it went to rat-shit I didn’t want her in the way of their arcs of fire.

  I pointed at Lover Man and Genghis. ‘We’re coming towards you.’

  Five or six paces from the Cessna I turned to see the back door of Erasto’s technical open and Awaale passing over the bags. The first technical started to roll the moment the door closed again. Bob Marley filled the air once more.

  Erasto’s wagon followed, but stopped level with Awaale’s. Erasto wanted to have a good look at the two Georgians. They were still on their arses on the flatbed, bollock naked, backs against the cab. The two crew guarding them laughed and pointed. Erasto’s vehicle moved off.

  Mr Lover Man screamed at Joe, ‘The engine, let’s go, let’s go!’ He leant through the cargo-hold door, laid his M4 on the floor and turned to help Tracy.

  Tracy ignored him and ran straight for me.

  ‘Nick, thank you, thank you, thank you.’ As the electrics wound up once more, she threw her arms around my neck and planted kisses all over my face. Her own was one big scabby grin.

  ‘Nick, thank you, thank you …’ The prop began to turn. Her words were now almost drowned by the engine.

  She hugged me tighter, pulling me down so her chin rested on my right shoulder.

  Awaale was waiting to exchange contact details and say goodbye but he stood back to let Tracy show her love and appreciation. Maybe he thought it was going to be his turn next. Everybody did love him so.

  Her tone changed the instant her lips were at my ear. ‘BB is working with the two Georgians. That plane is theirs, Nick. They want Stefan, but he says he will kill him if I tell you. They want my baby. Please help us … Please …’

  The navigation lights strobed under the fuselage. Everything unfolded around me like a series of rapid-sequence still photographs.

  The Skyvan’s props were turning.

  Stefan’s little legs were a blur as he struggled to get back to his mother.

  BB’s eyes were fixed on the Skyvan.

  ‘Nick, please do something …’

  Genghis was looking into the hold of the Cargomaster.

  Now BB was moving.

  Gripping Stefan tightly in front of him, he ran hard into Genghis’s back, using the boy as a battering ram. Genghis stumbled and fell.

  BB grabbed Mr Lover Man’s M4 from the doorway and jammed the short barrel into the back of Stefan’s head. His shouts were almost lost in the prop-wash but their message was clear. ‘Stand still, everybody. No fucker move!’

  The boy’s clothing was flattened against BB by the force of the propeller. BB moved out of its way.

  The M4 barrel was firmly jammed into the base of Stefan’s skull.

  20

  Genghis quickly recovered, weapon back up, but BB kept moving away from the aircraft, making any shot Genghis might take a whole lot harder.

  Tracy screamed and lunged towards her son. ‘My baby! My baby!’

  I gripped her. I shouted to Genghis above the blast of the turboprop. ‘No fire! Don’t fire!’

  He might be able to hit him, but he couldn’t guarantee that BB didn’t have enough pressure on his trigger to take the boy out with him. I had no doubt that he would. BB might be an arsehole, but he knew exactly what he was doing. If he w
as in a corner and going to die anyway, he wouldn’t give a fuck.

  If I screwed this up and the boy got killed, Frank’s lads weren’t going to give a fuck about us — or anyone else they opened up on as they made their exit.

  Mr Lover Man jumped out and I pushed Tracy towards him. ‘Take her. And tell your mate not to fire!’

  I could see no other way of sorting out this shit. It was going to create more drama, but at least the boy would stay alive. Drama I could get to grips with. Dead kids — all I could do was bag them up and take them back to where they’d come from.

  I made a move towards BB. Now I was closer I could make sense of his yells. ‘Get these fucking animals off the technical now. Get them off. I want them off — now!’

  I turned to comply. Awaale was manning the 12.7.

  It pointed our way.

  I threw up my hands. ‘No, Awaale. No!’

  His hand moved to the cocking handle.

  ‘No! Don’t fucking fire!’

  The Skyvan rolled towards the runway with its ramp down. Its red interior lights glowed on the tarmac behind it. Its twin props whirled. I kept waving my arms like a madman at anyone with a weapon. ‘No firing! No firing!’

  Everywhere I looked, there were too many fingers on triggers.

  BB kept edging towards the technicals. ‘Get ’em out. Get ’em out!’

  I shouted and motioned to Awaale to leave the wagon, but he wasn’t going anywhere. He had the biggest gun and he was going to use it if he wanted to. I took a pace forward and put myself between them, pointing at BB and bellowing, ‘Wait there, fucking wait there — I’ll sort it out.’

  BB was almost foaming at the mouth. ‘Fucking do it. Get that technical. I’ll fucking drop this boy. You know I’ll do it.’

  He’d be fucked if he did, but I had no doubt that he would. I held both hands out as if I was trying to stop two lots of traffic. I broke into a run towards the technical. The two covering the Georgians had their AKs pointing here, there and everywhere, screaming at Awaale, desperate to know what he wanted them to do.

  Still manning the 12.7, Awaale couldn’t make sense of any of this. He could no longer feel the love. I reached the side of the wagon. He stared down at me.

  ‘Forget it. Let him take them.’

  ‘But this will look very bad, Mr Nick. My men … I am going to be their leader …’

  ‘That’s right, mate. But I’m going to beg, make it look good for you. You tell them later that you decided to let them go, for the boy’s sake. All good leaders must show wisdom and kindness, mate. The boy …’

  I got down on my knees, hands together.

  ‘Please, Awaale, please.’

  He liked the reaction from the two crew beside him.

  ‘But why does he want that child?’

  ‘Because everything is about the boy, Awaale. The man with the money, the powerful man — that is his son. Just leave the wagon, Awaale. We must keep the boy safe. We don’t need any more drama from the father, believe me. I told you, he can reach anywhere he wants …’

  BB was still going ape-shit, but staying static. He knew this was his best option for now.

  The two Georgians, still naked and against the back of the cab, began to taste freedom. They gave me a smirk. Dec gobbed at me as I got to my feet. It hit me on my right shoulder. I wanted to reach over and throttle the fucker, but that would have to wait. ‘Awaale, let it go. Fuck ’em.’

  The Skyvan had reached the end of the runway.

  ‘And fuck Erasto. You’ll just have to take over tonight, won’t you?’

  He was still struggling to compute. I had to scream like a drill sergeant to get through to him. ‘Give — them — the — wagon!’

  His face crumpled. He almost looked hurt. I took a deep breath, forced myself to be calm. ‘Please, Awaale … Please …’

  He thought about it.

  Finally, achingly slowly, he waved an arm at the two crew to debus. The lads jumped off, and he followed.

  Ant and Dec got to their feet. The driver was out. Ant vaulted over the side and took the wheel. BB reversed towards the wagon, muzzle still glued to the back of Stefan’s head.

  The rest of us shuffled backwards towards the Cargomaster. Mr Lover Man shouted, ‘Tracy, no! No!’

  Like a banshee, she zoomed past me.

  Her body convulsed with sobs as she ran. ‘Take me, take me! Not my baby, please!’

  I bellowed, ‘Tracy, stand still. Stand still!’

  But she didn’t. Of course she didn’t.

  BB threw the boy onto the flatbed with Dec and swung round to face the threat. Tracy hurled herself at him. He used her own momentum to fling her to the ground. As he climbed on board, she came back at him. He tried to kick her off but she clung on. The wagon started to move. She slipped and for a second it looked as if she was going to fall, but with a desperate lunge she managed to grab the sill of the flatbed. Her feet dragged along the tarmac.

  She gripped the sill and tried to swing her legs onto the back of the wagon.

  Dec handed the boy back to BB and took the M4. He moved to the edge and stamped on Tracy’s fingers.

  Ant swung the wheel from side to side.

  Tracy managed to hook a knee over the edge of the flatbed and held on grimly, but her grip was loosening. The force of the seesawing technical was becoming too much for her. Dec took aim with the M4 and gave her a round. Her limbs flailed as she cartwheeled into the ground.

  The technical roared towards the Skyvan. BB held onto Stefan like a vice, the boy’s face into his shoulder. Dec banged on the cab roof to get Ant to drive faster, then swivelled and gave a burst with the M4 in our general direction. Everybody ducked. I kept eye-to-eye with Genghis. ‘No. We don’t want anything to hit the boy.’

  He got it. He understood. At last.

  Tracy lay very still. The wound in her gut glistened. She panted for breath. Supporting her neck, I lifted her gently and leant back to take the weight. Her leg dangled over my right forearm.

  ‘Nick … My baby … My baby …’ Every word hurt.

  ‘It’s OK,’ I murmured. ‘It’s all going to be OK …’

  Tracy kept trying to talk.

  ‘Stop … It’s all right. We’ll get him back, I promise. We’ll get him back …’

  Her head fell across my arm. ‘I’ve been so stupid, Nick … I’ve been so … stupid … My baby …’

  Mr Lover Man helped me lift her carefully into the Cargomaster’s hold. He and Genghis ripped open the medical kit to grip her.

  Awaale was at the door, hand outstretched. I grabbed it.

  ‘Listen, mate, good luck to your clan. We’ve got to go. But you know what? We are friends. We really are friends.’

  His face creased into a huge grin. ‘Yes, of course, Mr Nick,’ he shouted in my ear as the prop revved big-time. ‘Of course, I know it. America, we meet at my father’s house.’

  ‘Give me your cell. I’ll get your number off it.’

  He threw it up to me, then pointed down the runway. ‘Mr Nick, they’re escaping.’

  The Skyvan left the tarmac and lifted over the sea.

  ‘No, they’re not, mate. No, they’re fucking not.’

  21

  I shouted to Joe as I closed the shutter, ‘Get airborne! Get up there — follow that fucking thing!’

  The Cessna rumbled towards the runway. I climbed over the two front seats to retrieve my headset. I stared out into the darkness. ‘You faster?’

  He was at full stretch, pressing buttons, doing pilot shit as he checked left and right of the aircraft. ‘Easy. That Skyvan is a fucking shed, man. But they’ve cut the lights. They know we’re coming. Where would they go?’

  ‘It’s got to be south. Kenya. Or maybe further. Anything north would be a nightmare. There’s the Arab Spring, civil war, and Yemen hates everyone. Why head into that shit? Don’t worry about it, Joe. Just get up there, start heading south, and I’ll try and find out.’

  I checked his watch
. We had about half an hour till first light. I looked at him. ‘We’ll find the fuckers, don’t worry.’

  We hit the beginning of the strip and the prop screamed up through the revs. I pulled the loadie’s extension lead out of the door pocket and plugged it in.

  Headset on, I moved back into the hold. Frank’s lads were working furiously to get drips into her. That meant they’d already plugged any leaks.

  Genghis pulled the plasma expander from the trauma kit, a clear plastic half-litre container shaped like a washing-up-liquid bottle. He tore it out of its plastic wrapper and threw that on the ground. He bit off the little cap that kept the neck of the bottle sterile. Fuck hygiene — infections could be sorted out in hospital. He knew what he was doing. Let’s keep her alive so she can get to one.

  Mr Lover Man also had his IV set out of its protective plastic coating. He chewed off the cap to the spearhead connector and jabbed it into the self-sealing neck of the bottle. He took out the plug, undid the screw clamp, and watched as the fluid ran through the line. He wasn’t concerned about air bubbles in the line; a small amount didn’t matter — certainly not in these circumstances. I willed him on. Let’s just get the fluid in.

  He hung the loop in his mouth to keep the bottle high so its life-saving contents could run freely.

  Mr Lover Man shrugged off his body armour. Genghis rolled the soft Kevlar into a pillow and tucked it under her head. I looked down. He’d plastered field dressings to her stomach, beneath her bloodstained T-shirt.

  I leant down towards her as Stefan’s two godfathers carried on working on her. I made sure she’d be able to see me before I tried to get her to open her eyes. Her face was screwed up in pain. I stroked her forehead, moving the hair out of the way with one hand and pushing one of the cans off my ear with my other. I had to raise my voice above the prop and engine noise.

  ‘Tracy? Tracy?’

  Nothing. I leant in closer, my mouth to her ear. ‘Tracy?’

  Her eyes opened as the aircraft lunged forward and started to thunder down the tarmac. She studied my face. A smile flickered at the corners of her mouth and turned almost immediately into a grimace.