by Andy McNab
We moved on, painfully slowly.
‘Not far now …’
Her shoulders jerked as she fought to contain the sobs. She was slipping beyond exhaustion. ‘We’re going to be … OK … aren’t we?’
I nodded. ‘It’s a fucker. But it’s not going to kill us.’ It was my hundredth lie of the night.
She didn’t reply. She had almost no strength left now. Neither did I, but we had to crack on.
Dino was so close now I could almost smell the disinfectant.
33
El Veintiuno
8 September 2011
The sun was trying its hardest to break cover from the high ground and join the clear sky above us. We’d been lying in the shit and the dust for less than an hour. Half the landscape was stuck to our sweat-soaked clothes, but when you’re fucked and static your head tells you you’re in a five-star spa.
My feet throbbed. Two big fuck-off blisters had joined the party: one felt like it covered the whole of my left heel; the other was swilling around on the ball of my right foot. I hadn’t bothered checking out the damage; I didn’t want to take my boots off again because I didn’t want the pain of putting them back on. The right one had burst; the left hadn’t joined it yet, but I knew it would – the grit that had found its way into my boots during the night would see to that.
They weren’t as bad as Katya’s ankle, though. It looked like an over-inflated football. Her lips were also swollen and badly split, but I knew she’d have accepted any amount of pain if it meant getting a drink. We were both gagging for water.
We lay several metres back from the road, still in the cover of the scrub. I could see what I needed of the tarmac, past the piles of discarded and sun-faded bottles and cans. A couple of crows did their stuff in the distance.
I’d got to check out the bottom half of a rusty pick-up heading towards the coast; otherwise there had been no movement, no sound in the last hour, apart from Katya still trying to catch her breath.
I pulled her wrist towards me to check her watch again. It was 07.28. She looked like she’d be prepared to lie there for ever.
‘Nick …’
She went silent again, for so long that I had to reassure myself that she was still breathing. Her dust-caked face made her look like a heavily made-up punch dummy.
‘How … did you find me?’
‘It doesn’t matter, does it? I did, and we’re here.’ I gave her a smile and got my eyes back on the road. ‘So it’s all good.’
‘You didn’t trust me, did you?’
‘That was my mistake. I didn’t know what the fuck you were up to, right from that moment in your flat.’
She rested her hand on my wrist. ‘I don’t blame you. I should have said … something … I didn’t know you could … help.’
‘This sort of shit is all I’m really good for.’
‘I saw you … I saw you … with her … outside, yesterday. She told me … to watch from the house. She knew you were coming … She even showed me … where they were going to keep you …’
She gently rubbed my arm.
‘He was going to kill you … but Liseth stopped him. She wanted … to deal with you at the party … To encourage the others … He told me … he was going to slit your throat on the grass … and pull your tongue through it … Then he was going to shoot you.’
I put a hand on hers to comfort her but kept my eyes on the road.
‘Listen, thanks for what you did back there. You did good …’
It didn’t have the effect I was hoping for: she started to well up.
‘He – he raped me, Nick … over and over. He had to be in control … He wanted me in a harness … down there … I couldn’t … wouldn’t … do it. I lashed out … with the first thing I could lay my hands on … I wasn’t even thinking … what I was doing … what I was going to do next … I just wanted him dead … Then all I could think of was getting to you … And when I saw Liseth … I just wanted to kill her too.’
‘We’re safe now.’ I squeezed her hand. ‘Dino will be here soon.’ She tried to make herself more comfortable, resting her head against one of the dust-laden bags.
‘What’s going to happen … to all this?’
‘I’ll explain when we’re in the wagon. You’ll like Dino. He’s a bit of a miserable fucker, but you’ll like him. Let’s do this later – in the wagon.’
She fell silent.
I kept my eyes, ears and head totally focused on the road.
‘I’m so sorry … you and Anna … getting dragged into this … But they couldn’t find Roman …’
‘Your brother?’ I turned back to her.
She nodded, and the tears welled up again. There were going to be a lot more of them once we were in the wagon. Relief can do that after a drama.
My eyes swivelled back to the road.
This really wasn’t the time for a sob-fest and a big in-depth chat, but she was clearly in the mood. ‘Where is he? You tucked him away?’
‘I don’t know … I didn’t want to … in case they made me tell them … He has … a wife, a family … I told him … leave Russia … go … anywhere.’
‘Any idea where he is?’
She sniffed. ‘Maybe Cuba …’ She fell silent again.
A wagon swung by. I saw the bottom half of a blue-cabbed truck dragging a trailer-load of logs, coming from the direction of Acapulco and heading for Mexico City.
Katya didn’t speak again until some time after the truck had gone. ‘How’s the baby, Nick?’
I glanced at the tears carving grooves in the dirt on her cheeks. ‘Last I heard, he’s doing great. Gaining weight, looking good.’
She tried to smile but her lips wouldn’t obey. ‘Have you chosen a name for him yet?’
‘Not yet. But I’m pretty sure we won’t be calling him Jesús.’
34
Another vehicle approached from the Acapulco side, more slowly than anything else that had come our way. I watched the bottom half of a clean white van crawl past, then kick up a little dust cloud as it veered off the tarmac.
I got to my knees, waited for it to stop.
Katya looked at me as if I had all the answers.
‘Wait here.’
I wasn’t sure why I said that. It wasn’t as if she had other plans for the morning.
I got to my feet and hobbled away, like a ninety-year-old. My blisters wept and my leg muscles screamed with every step. I dragged myself slowly towards the road, keeping low, at the edge of the scrub. A white Chevrolet was parked up, about thirty metres along the road, engine running. But just because it was white, static and on time didn’t mean Dino was inside it.
I moved back into the scrub and paralleled the verge towards the sound of the gently idling engine. Eventually I got level with the cab.
Dino wasn’t looking a hundred per cent happy; perhaps he was reliving the last time he was in that neck of the woods. As soon as he spotted me, I heard the clunk of the central locking. He thumbed vigorously over his shoulder, signalling me to get into the back, but I went for the passenger door instead.
A waft of the familiar disinfectant smell greeted me as I opened it. I wasn’t worried, as long as he could still function. Besides, it was strangely reassuring.
‘In the back, man – out of sight – in the back!’
He checked his mirrors frantically. ‘Where the fuck is she, man?’
‘Go back thirty.’
‘She OK?’
‘Not in showroom condition, but she’ll scrub up fine. Go back down the road and throw those doors open.’ I gave him a big smile. ‘Cheer up, mate – you’re going to like this next bit a lot.’
I moved back into the scrub and headed towards Katya, my CamelBak and the moneybags as Dino swung a 180 on the tarmac and headed for his new pick-up point.
EPILOGUE
1
Perinatal Clinic, Moscow
14 September 2011
05.28 hrs
The lift opened
and its bright light elbowed its way into the gloom of Anna’s floor.
The blinds were closed on the internal windows at the far end of the corridor. I started towards them, a bulging bin-liner in each hand. I didn’t exactly have a spring in my step, but my limp had improved since the burst blisters had warmed up under their dressings. I was glad to be back, though, even if my face looked like it never wanted to go out in public again.
The weather was colder, though maybe that was because I was only hours away from sweating it out in the scrub. I wondered what the temperature was going to be like with Anna today. Not surprisingly, she hadn’t been too happy about having a dead body in the flat and never wanted to return to it. She’d spelt that out to me when I’d phoned from Mexico. Fair one: it was why I’d gone and collected everything a mother and baby could need from the box room. She was going to have to stay at the clinic until the boy was OK enough to leave.
There was no sign of Mr Lover Man or Genghis. Frank had called them off once Dino had picked us up and I’d told him the heat was off. I didn’t know what Miguel would get up to next, but he hadn’t struck me as a lad with global ambitions. For that matter, he wasn’t even too clever with a Taser.
I’d called Frank from Baja California. Dino had driven us straight there from El Veintiuno. The cartels had no presence up in the north-west. There was nothing for them to fight over, apart from sand and tourists hooked on whale-spotting – and that was what had got me thinking about Frank.
I tapped gently and opened the door. The only light came from the glow of the machinery; the only sounds the gentle bleeps of the baby monitors. The room was warm and it smelt of sleep, just as it should.
I left the bags on the highly polished tiles and walked over to the incubator. A much healthier-looking baby gazed back at me. There were still tubes everywhere and sensors all over his chest and abdomen, but he seemed a bit bigger and stronger. The beanie had come off. He didn’t have much hair, but his skin was pink.
Anna stirred behind me and the sheets rustled. Instinct had told her someone was near her child and she needed to check it out.
‘Nicholas?’
2
I gave her a subdued ‘Hello’, partly because she’d only just woken up, partly because the darkness of the room and gentle bleeping noises somehow dictated it.
I leaned over and brushed a strand or two of hair away from her face so I could kiss her. She smelt the same as the room.
She sighed and rubbed her eyes, then reached over and picked up the small plastic clock on the bedside cabinet.
‘I know, I know, I’m sorry … But I thought, Why hang about in the flat? I’ve missed you guys.’ I thumbed behind me. ‘And I brought the stuff.’
The sheets rustled again as she sorted herself out, adjusting the pillow so she could sit up.
‘He’s looking good, isn’t he?’
She gave a gentle smile. ‘He’s doing really well. I see a difference in him every day. We might be able to leave in a couple of weeks if he keeps it up.’
I sat on the side of the bed, wincing a bit as the mallet wound on my shin reminded me of unhappier days.
She looked quizzical, then cupped my face in her hands and kissed me softly on the forehead. She dropped her hands again and I slipped mine around hers.
Anna nodded at the iPhone sitting in a charger on the bedside cabinet. ‘Katya called last night while you were in the air. She says to tell you Dino sits at the back window twenty-four/seven, whatever that means.’
I grinned as I pictured him there. It wasn’t as if he could run the thirty metres to stop anyone digging it up. ‘Good to hear he’s looking after our money!’
I traced my thumbs across the back of her hands. ‘It’s all OK now, Anna. The drama’s over. We’re safe.’
The baby monitors gave another bleep or two and the smile faded from her eyes. I felt her withdraw from me again. ‘Really, Nicholas? You really think everything is good? That we are safe? Really? You know there will always be somebody from your past. Someone somewhere who wants to hurt you. I knew this from the start. I knew what you were. I knew what I was getting into. But that was OK. I wanted you. But that was then, Nicholas … Now we have someone else to think about.’
‘Let’s give it a little time, yeah? Let things settle down. Get us sorted with a house at least.’
She studied my face. ‘Time isn’t the problem, though, is it?’
She wasn’t leaking any tears. It was too serious for that.
She stared into my eyes with steely determination. ‘Nicholas, please listen. You may think of these things as “dramas”. You may tell yourself that. But in the real world they are dangers. We cannot have our child waiting for danger to come his way.
‘I don’t think you pick fights, Nicholas. But they sure pick you. Don’t you get that? You were the kid who always got into fights at school and didn’t know why. How do I know that? I know it because trouble always finds you. Nothing’s going to change that – it’s the way you are.’
She grabbed hold of my wrists, brought my hands up to her face and kissed them. ‘Nothing will change, you know that. Look at the state of you …’
I pulled away enough to have eye-to-eye. ‘But we’ve got to give it a go, haven’t we?’
She sighed. ‘I know you, Nicholas. And I know that whatever you did while you were away you enjoyed it. So it’s not just about the danger coming your way. It’s about the people around you. They’re scared. I’m scared – for our child, even for myself, now.
‘It’s not that you don’t see danger, I know that. But you do see it differently. You look at it as a challenge – a game, even. You’re wired that way. That’s who you are – and we can’t have that near our child, no matter how much I care for you.’
She looked across to check the baby. It was pointless arguing; I knew I’d lose. After all, we both knew she was right.
She exhaled slowly and I could feel the warmth of her breath on my hands.
‘Let’s talk about all that later. Let’s get both you guys out of here, into a new house – a new start.’
Her smile returned – but it was her bleak smile, not her happy one. ‘Go house-hunting, Nicholas, and then come back this afternoon when the baby’s awake and we’ll start thinking of a name. I know you love that little man. I know you’ll make a wonderful father … but … it’s more complicated than that …’
She let go of my hands.
I stood up and kissed her forehead. ‘At least we can agree on one thing: no happy snaps, eh?’
I finally got what I was after: a real smile. ‘You need anything else from the flat? I’m going to get myself sorted first.’
‘If you see any good places, do a video.’
I went over to the incubator and had one last long look at our son. I couldn’t touch him yet, but I hoped there’d still be time enough for that. ‘Mate, see you later.’
And then I nodded and walked out.
3
It took the best part of an hour to get anywhere near the apartment in the morning rush. I had one more set of lights to go before I was having a shit-shave-shower and then heading out to the real-estate people. I’d get back to Anna in the afternoon, and this evening I’d clean up the flat for the rental guys to check it out for the handover. Frank’s guys had removed the body, but hadn’t done anything about the damage – or the pool of dried vomit the brown-leather jackets had left as a souvenir.
The cash came to twelve million dollars in hundred-dollar bills, nicely banded up in $100,000 bundles, which made the maths easy. Owning big chunks of cash was all well and good, but getting it into the real world wasn’t straightforward. It wasn’t like you could turn up at the Halifax and open an account with a holdall full of greenbacks. So once Dino, Katya and I were holed up in a holiday shack overlooking a picture-postcard bay on the Pacific coast, we buried the bags about thirty metres from the window and I’d made the call to Peredelkino.
Frank was his usual unflappabl
e self as he offered to ease the cash into the real world for only twenty-five cents in the dollar. At that rate he was doing us a favour, he said, and who were we to argue? So Frank, great humanitarian that he was, took on the problem, and was going to take a three-million-dollar cut. It wouldn’t exactly be a life-changer for him. That sort of money wouldn’t cover much more than his annual mineral-water bill. But for the price Frank was going to throw in getting the passport-and-visa-less Katya out of Mexico at the same time as the cash. Frank would spit Katya out in Moscow, where she could sort herself out, then he’d launder the money through property and artwork companies, or whatever. It was going to take a couple of months before we got our thirds, but I knew he wouldn’t let us down.
We talked about what we were going to do with our share while we were trying to sort out a flight to get me home – as you do.
Dino’s paranoia was back, but at least it meant he kept his eyes glued on the cash. And Katya was now on his case, making sure he didn’t fuck himself up.
I’d kept my promise; now it was his turn. He wanted his family back, and a normal life. I had no idea whether that was going to happen – but he was going to have three million dollars with which to give it his best shot, and that had to be good enough.
As soon as Frank had worked his magic, Katya was going to go and look for her brother. How long that would take, and where it would lead her, none of us knew.
I’d wiped the slate clean with Frank, and not just on the currency exchange. The Narcopulco locals were already singing new folk songs about the death of Peregrino, and Frank was going to fill the vacuum, like he had when the Iron Curtain was pulled down. Right place, right time – it was his special talent. The cartels could kick the shit out of each other as much as they liked, as far as he was concerned, but there was still work to be done.
