Crisis Four

by Andy McNab

  She started to spark up. ‘Yes, and do you know what? The whole school sang “Happy Birthday” to me today in assembly. Well, Louise, Catherine and me. They had birthdays in the holidays, too. Are you impressed, or what?’

  I imagined Miss Grenfell-Brodie giving Kelly a disapproving look.

  ‘We don’t say “or what,” remember? Anyway, was it embarrassing?’

  ‘No! My class have bought a present for me. A book of amazing facts; it’s really cool.’

  ‘Wow!’ I said, trying to work up some enthusiasm. ‘So what have you been doing today?’

  ‘Hmmm, mostly the Geography project, I guess.’

  ‘That’s good. I used to love that at school.’ I looked skywards in case a bolt of lightning was heading my way.

  ‘We had wet breaks all day today,’ she chatted on. ‘Is it raining in London?’

  ‘Pouring, I got soaked. It was raining cats and dogs. Especially dogs.’

  We both laughed. She said, ‘Have you talked with Josh yet? Are they back home?’

  ‘No, they won’t be home until tomorrow.’

  ‘Oh, OK. We need to send a card to say thank you for them coming to see us.’

  I thought I was the one who had to come up with the grown-up, parent-type stuff. ‘OK. Can you be in charge of that? It would be a really nice surprise for them. Tell them a few amazing facts while you’re at it.’

  ‘I will, during Letters.’

  ‘Great, they’ll love that.’ Letters was an hour set aside each Saturday after study time, when the kids who were boarders had to write to their parents. Or, if you were Kelly, guardian and grandparents.

  A truck parked between me and the motel. She was still prattling on while I moved in my seat to keep the trigger, and at the same time used the opportunity to adjust my damp jeans. ‘I wished we could have stayed with them, Nick. Can we go back to the ship?’

  ‘Yeah, no problem.’ I realized I was still feeling guilty. She could have asked for anything at that moment and I’d have agreed to it. The traffic was still screaming past between the target and me, throwing up clouds of water.

  ‘Can Josh and everyone come?’

  ‘Of course. As soon as we go on the next long holiday. Make sure you ask Josh in the card, OK?’

  Even as I heard myself saying it, I knew it wasn’t going to happen. The chances of Josh being able to get over to the UK with his kids again were slim because of the expense. I said, ‘I’ve got to go now. You have a really, really happy birthday time tonight.’

  ‘OK, are you going to ring me again soon?’

  ‘I hope so. I won’t be able to this week, but I’ll definitely call after the weekend, promise. NPP. Are you seeing Granny and Grandad at all?’

  ‘Yes. There’s no Drama on Saturday, so after Study Time and Letters Granny said I can go stay with them.’

  I was pleased about that, because if they weren’t able to have her some weekends she didn’t get to leave the school grounds.

  ‘OK, listen, have a great day.’

  ‘I will. I love you.’

  It always felt weird when she did that. I liked it, but I could never say it unless she did first. If I did, it made me feel like I was intruding. ‘I love you, too. Now there’s another amazing fact! OK, back to class. I’ll speak to you soon, all right?’

  She laughed and the phone went dead. I guessed she knew she had to make the first move.

  She was happy that I’d called – and I was happy that I’d remembered to. What was more, it was a lot easier to do now that I knew the Firm knew about her. I didn’t have to get out of the car and use a public call box. I cleared both numbers from the recall menu and closed down.

  The truck had moved, so I no longer had to sit like a contortionist to keep the trigger. I sat there for a minute just looking at the motel door and the traffic cruising between us, feeling very pleased with myself.

  I switched back into work mode, pulled $5 out of my wallet and went and bought a Coke, trying my best to ‘keep dog’ on the target through the windows. Once out on the forecourt with my pint and a half of Coke and ice in my hand, I went to the bank of four phones which stood beside the Burger King next door.

  I pulled out the handset to its full extent so that I could still see the motel. The roar of the traffic was almost deafening. I put my money in to call directory assistance. Pushing my finger in my ear and pulling on the handset for that last inch of line to keep the trigger, I shouted, ‘Washington DC, British Embassy, Massachusetts Avenue, please.’ I had to say it again because of the traffic, plus she couldn’t understand my Australian accent.

  I dialled the number and finally got through to who I wanted. ‘Michael, it’s Nick. I need some help, and I’ve decided to take you up on your offer.’

  There was a slight pause as Metal Mickey mulled this one over. ‘Well, that depends on what exactly the offer was.’ I could imagine the smile on his face.

  ‘It’s just some questions that need answering, nothing that’ll get you into trouble.’ I could hear myself shouting down the phone to overcome the traffic noise.

  ‘Good. I would just hate to be a naughty boy.’

  I bet he would. ‘No, mate, no trouble. Have you a pen?’

  He gave a slow, ‘O–K,’ as he looked for it.

  ‘I need anything that you can find on a handling name – Yousef. Anything you can get.’

  He sounded surprised at my plain speech on the phone. ‘Nick, aren’t you the naughty one! You’re supposed to be the one concerned with security.’ He giggled like a schoolboy.

  ‘I know, mate, but this is important and I haven’t any time to mess about. The other thing I need to know is what exactly Sarah’s been working on these last two years in the US, plus, what did she do the two years before that? I know you don’t know now, but I just know you’ll be able to find out.’

  ‘Why, Nick, you old flatterer, you.’ He started to laugh as he wrote a note to himself. ‘Aren’t you supposed to be the one in the loop?’

  I let out a sigh. ‘Yeah, I know, mate, but I’ve fucked up and got myself in a muddle. I don’t really want to call London and get it sorted out. First time doing this sort of job, and all that. It would be very embarrassing.’

  He let out a squeal of delight. ‘Oh, tell me about it!’

  I didn’t have a clue what he was on about and just carried on before he had the chance to tell me. ‘Finally, I need to know what Netanyahu and Arafat are getting up to this week. You know, times, places, that sort of thing.’

  ‘O–K. You are a busy boy, aren’t you?’

  ‘Oh, and one last thing. I need to know the names and backgrounds of the four men killed last night at a place called Little Lick Creek in North Carolina.’

  There was a pause; I could almost hear the cogs churning as he linked this to Sarah and her country breaks. I was expecting a reply along the lines of, ‘I don’t feel comfortable with this, Nick,’ but instead got a very nonchalant, ‘When do you need this by?’

  ‘Later this afternoon would be great. Do you think you can?’ I had to turn back towards the booth to hear him as three trucks thundered past.

  ‘No, but I know a man who might. I can’t wait to call him.’

  ‘Thanks for that, Michael, I really appreciate it. There is no-one else I can ask – you know how it is. But I would like this one to be just between you, me and the gatepost, OK?’

  ‘You, me and the gatepost, mmm, sounds interesting. Byeee!’

  I stepped back into the booth and hung up. I would rather have been talking with Josh, but I couldn’t – until he got back from the UK, Metal Mickey would have to do.

  The rain had given me a new layer of wet on the shoulders of my jacket and hair. My forearm was starting to sting again. Walking to the car, I lifted up my jacket cuff to investigate. Not good. There were scabs forming, but the bites were deep and needed cleaning and dressing by someone who really knew what they were doing. At least when it scarred I wouldn’t have to explain anythi
ng. The teeth marks said all there was to say.

  I did a drive-past of the motel, checking to see if there was anything abnormal, such as sixteen police cars and twice as many shotguns, ready to pounce. Nothing. I parked up and walked past the reception. Looking through the glass doors, I could see that Donna was still at reception, still reading whatever was so riveting below the desk. There was a tray of Danishes next to the coffee machine for the guests, and a bowl of big red apples. Everything looked absolutely normal.

  I put my relaxed face on and headed through the door. Three children were fighting over who was going to carry what bag. I smelled the coffee and remembered I was hungry. Leaving the family to sort out its shit, I walked over to the machine, picked up coffees, four apples and the same amount of pastries, and then went back over to Donna.

  ‘We’ve decided to check out early now we have a replacement car,’ I said, breaking the corner off one of the Danishes and taking a bite.

  ‘Sure, no problem, but I’m afraid I’ll have to charge you full price.’ She printed out the bill and I checked it to see if there were any phone calls logged. There weren’t. I signed the card counterfoil.

  I went to the room. The two telltales were still in place. Knocking on the door, I made sure she could see me through the spyhole as I pulled them out.

  The heat was stifling, and the moisture from the drying clothes and bodies had made it as humid as a greenhouse. She’d gone back to watching TV, sitting on the edge of the bed, still with a towel around her. She took her plate and coffee without looking at me, her eyes glued to the screen. ‘It’s the third bulletin I’ve seen.’

  As I joined her on the bed, I could see that it was a rerun of what I’d heard on the radio. A reporter was talking with a background of police cars and vans, and then the woods. He was wearing a brand-new blue Gore-Tex jacket, probably bought on expenses at Sears on the way to the lake; the hood was down so that you could see his very perfect, plastic hair and face, and he was talking in that earnest here-we-are-at-the-scene tone of voice. The shootings had happened hours ago, but he had to make it sound like the bad guys could reappear any minute.

  I said, ‘Have they mentioned any details?’

  She was sounding quite excited. ‘Yes. They’ve all said it was two men at the gas station, but there are unconfirmed reports that one of them could be a woman. The FBI are at both scenes, but there’s been no official statement yet.’ She took a bite of Danish and spoke through a mouthful of pastry. ‘That woman in the blue Mazda must have been really scared if she couldn’t see I was female.’

  I had to agree. But then again, maybe they were going on the dogs finding Sarah’s knickers. After another mouthful she added, ‘There’s been no mention of Lance.’

  I wasn’t bothered by that; I knew they wouldn’t be giving the media everything they knew. Unless they hadn’t found him yet. The main thing was that no police had been killed.

  I stood up and walked over to the window. Her clothes were mostly dry now. ‘It’s time to move. Get your kit on, let’s go.’

  She pulled her jeans on, and I knew what they would feel like – stiff and horrible. She got them on, bent her knees and did little squats to make them a bit more pliable, dusted off the mud and got her top back on. As she put on her size-eleven trainers she looked up at me. ‘Where are our new clothes?’

  ‘I forgot. Let’s go!’

  We got into the car and I drove. She didn’t seem to notice to start with, because she was busy eating her apples and drinking coffee, but when we got onto the highway it was obvious we were driving away from the airport, not towards it. She frowned. ‘Where are we going?’

  ‘Fayetteville.’

  She picked up the A4 map sheet of the state that the hire company had left for us. ‘But that’s even further away from Washington. Why Fayetteville?’

  ‘Because that’s what I want to do: I want to be out of here and in a safe area that I know. Then I’ll sort my shit out.’ I kept my eyes open for signs for the 401 south.

  Her face fell. ‘You are going to help me, aren’t you, Nick?’

  I didn’t answer.

  23

  Keeping to the speed limit so as not to attract any police attention, I drove along the same road as before towards the city. Crossing the Cape Fear bridge, I noticed a carpark on the other side, on the riverbank below the bridge, to allow fishermen and boats to get to the water. As we reached land and passed the slip road down to it, I made a mental note.

  Soon afterwards we hit Fayetteville city limits, which seemed to consist entirely of fast-food joints. ‘Why Fayetteville, Nick? Why are we here?’ It was the sort of America she’d never seen, nor wanted to, by the look on her face.

  ‘This is the only place I know in North Carolina. I plan to stand off here until London decides how they’re going to get you, and me, back to the UK. They’ll have to sort this gang-fuck out with the State Department before we go anywhere, or do anything. Until then, we need to keep out of the way of the police – in fact, everyone.’

  I glanced across and thought I saw her stiffen. I knew she was rattled about all this, but she was fucked if she was going to show it.

  I drove down Skibo, and Century 21 was just as I remembered it, a log-cabin-style converted home set amongst pine trees, with a small carpark in front and a large neon sign jutting out from the side of the road. But I wasn’t ready to go in yet; I needed to sort my act out and look at least halfway presentable.

  I drove some more and found a shopping area set around an open square. Beyond that, way over to my left, I saw the ‘Pentagon’, and realized that this must be part of the shopping mall I’d been to before. A large banner hung from a York stone façade the size of a row of houses. It announced that Sears department store was ready and waiting to take my money any time with its fantastic sportswear sale. I pulled in and buried the car amongst a whole lot of other vehicles.

  She was staring at me. ‘What now?’

  ‘Clothes. I’ll go on my own. What size are you?’

  ‘I’ve already told you – I’m an eight, and my shoe is six, both US.’ Then she gave me a look that said, Can’t you remember? You used to know that stuff.

  Looking at her as she smiled, I closed the door and walked towards Goody’s Family Clothing Store.

  Half an hour later I came back with two bulging nylon sports bags. We went into the Pentagon and changed in the public toilets. I washed my face and made an attempt to dress my arm injuries with some of Goody’s finest dishcloths. I should have found a pharmacy, but I just couldn’t be arsed; there seemed to be more important things to do. Besides, I was the original one-stop shopper. Once washed and changed I waited outside the washrooms with my bag of old clothes. Near by was a cellphone shop; I went in and bought two $20 call cards and stopped off at the ATM.

  Sarah and I looked quite the devoted couple in our matching suburbanite jeans and sweatshirts, with neat nylon bomber jackets for the rain. It certainly made me feel a lot better to be out of my minging old kit, but my eyes were stinging with fatigue and I had trouble focusing on anything for too long. We got back to the car and threw the old stuff in the boot.

  I was now into a new phase of the job. ‘You drive,’ I said, throwing the keys at her. ‘I’ll tell you where.’

  We drove onto the Century 21 lot and parked up amongst the fir trees. The engine was still running, and I looked across the carriageway towards a gas station, not really concentrating, but getting myself ready for the next few minutes. These things have to look natural, and that can only happen if you act natural. That takes just a bit of preparation.

  She was confused. ‘What are we doing now?’

  ‘Like I said, we are doing nothing. I am getting us somewhere to stay. The fewer people that see us together, the better. Wait here.’

  I left the keys with her again. It was no drama, she was going nowhere; she wanted me to help her. Besides, she knew that if she drove off I’d have to call it in, and she would then be OTR (o
n the run) – not only from me, but also from the police, as the Firm would have no option but to stitch her up.

  I left her counting trucks and went inside the office. I recognized Velvet from her voice as she took another phone enquiry at the speed of sound. Her hair was long, past her shoulders, and she had a dyed-blond perm which was long overdue for a refit. It had so much spray on it that the hairs looked like strands of nylon. The skin on her arms and hands showed that she was in her twenties, but her fingers were yellow and she already had crows’ feet from screwing up her face to stop the cigarette smoke getting in her eyes. She looked pretty enough on the outside, but I wouldn’t have wanted to look down a fibre-optic scope into her lungs. My eyes were stinging more than ever.

  She finished her call and looked up. ‘Hi. How may I help you?’

  ‘Hi, my name’s Nick Snell. I booked an apartment with you this morning.’

  Before I’d finished she was already going into her files, and moments later she flourished a key. ‘I’ll need you to fill out this form. I forgot to ask if you have any pets. If so, they mustn’t weigh more than twenty pounds each and you are only allowed two. How are you paying?’

  ‘No I don’t, and cash.’

  At last, a reaction from her that wasn’t fully automated; maybe she liked the way I pronounced the word ‘cash’. Two minutes later I was heading back to the car.

  I opened the map and looked for North Reilly Road, which Velvet had told me was only a few minutes’ drive away. Stewart’s Creek turned out to be a private ‘community’ with just one road in and out; it opened up into an area of about forty acres, on which sat twenty or so blocks of green, wooden-façaded apartment blocks, three storeys high. We observed the 15 mph limit as we entered our new neighbourhood.

  ‘It’s apartment one seven one two,’ I said, looking from side to side. ‘I guess that’s building seventeen.’ Sarah nodded and we splashed our way through the puddles, looking at the numbers on the large grey mail boxes arranged outside each block. We passed the community pool and tennis courts, beside which stood a row of call booths and Coke and newspaper machines.