by Andy McNab
As this was happening, I was pushing toward the wall-just push, push, push; he still had hold of Kelly, and she was being dragged around, screaming at the top of her voice. I shut her out of my mind, keeping my eyes on the pistol, my body bent down, pushing and pushing. I felt the air leave his body as he hit the wall. Kelly was getting in the way; I was stepping on her, he was stepping on her, and she was screaming out in pain. He must have decided he needed two hands to sort me out because, the next thing I knew, Kelly was running.
I started to head-butt in earnest. I was hitting him with my head, I was hitting him with my nose, with the side of my face. My nose was hurting and bleeding as much as his must have been, but I just kept on butting, butting, and butting,
trying to do as much damage to him as possible, and, at the same time, keeping him against the wall.
He was screaming, "You fucker! You fucker! You fucker!
You're dead!"
And I was doing exactly the same back, screaming, "Fuck you! Fuck you! Fuck! Fuck!"
I still had him pushed right against the wall. As I butted him, his teeth cut into my face, opening up my forehead and just below my eye. You don't notice the pain when the adrenaline is pumping. I head-butted him again and again; it wasn't going to do him much lasting damage, but that was all I could do at the moment. My hands were on the weapon and I was shouting all sorts of shit at the top of my voice to scare him and, even more, to keep me psyched.
As his head came down, I bit the first thing that came into range. I felt my teeth on the taut skin of his cheek. There was that initial resistance, and then my teeth broke into what felt like warm squid and I was ripping his face open. He screamed out even louder, but I was focused totally on what I was doing; all other thoughts went out the window and I bit, gouged, did whatever damage I could.
My teeth sank in and in. He squealed like a pig. I had a mouthful of his cheek and was ripping and tearing. I saw terror in his eyes.
By now there was blood all over the two of us; I could taste the iron tang of it, and my whole face was drenched from the cuts on my face and his, all getting mixed in with our sweat.
Trying to clear my mouth, I choked some of it up into the back of my nose.
All the time, I was twisting the weapon away from me and trying to keep the top slide back. He was still pretty switched on and was squeezing the trigger, but nothing was happening--for now. His other hand was pulling at my fingers, trying to pry them off the weapon. As long as I kept my hand gripped around that top slide I'd be all right. I kept on pushing and pushing, keeping him up against something firm so I could lean against him, because all I wanted to do was move that pistol around.
I was still biting and gnawing. I'd gone through the first part of his cheek and kept on going. By now I was biting the top of his eyelid, I was biting his nose, everywhere I was ripping through the skin onto the bone of his jaw and skull.
I was running out of breath because the adrenaline was draining away, and pushing him against the wall had taken a lot of physical strength out of me. Then I started to choke, and I realized I had some of his skin at the back of my throat.
I could hear air being sucked into the hole in his cheek as he was breathing; I could hear my own throat rattling, blocked by chunks of his skin.
I was fighting him by feel, not sight. Our blood was burning into my eyes. Everything was blurred. I didn't know where Kelly was and at this stage I didn't care. I couldn't help her until I'd helped myself.
I was still trying to get the pistol into him somewhere. I didn't give a fuck where it went it could go into his leg, into his stomach, I didn't give a fuck, as long as I could start shooting him.
His screams increased as my finger wrapped around his on the trigger.
I turned it around, let go of the top slide and squeezed.
The first two shots missed, but I kept on shooting. I moved it around again and got him in the hip and then the thigh. He went down.
Everything stopped. The lack of noise was absolutely deafening.
After two or three seconds I could hear Kelly's screams rebounding off the walls. At least she was still somewhere in the building. She sounded as though she was throwing a fit.
All I could hear was a high-pitched continuous scream. I was too fucked up to do anything about it. I was too busy trying to cough up McGear's skin.
I'd find her later. I pulled myself up. I was in pain. The back of my neck felt as if it could no longer hold my head.
He writhed on the ground, bleeding and begging, "Don't kill me, man! Don't kill me! Don't kill me!"
I got hold of the pistol and did to him as he had done to me, jumping astride him, ramming it deep into his mouth.
For several seconds I just sat there trying to catch my breath. McGear's body might be dying, but his eyes were alive.
"Why did you kill the family?" I said, pulling the pistol from his mouth so he could speak.
"Tell me and you'll live." i He was looking at me as if he wanted to say something but didn't know what. I "Just tell me why. I need to know."
"I don't know what the fuck you mean."
I looked into his eyes and I knew he was telling the truth.
"What is on that computer?"
There was no slow reaction this time. His lip curled and he said, "Fuck you."
I jammed the weapon back into his mouth and said quietly, firmly, almost sort of fatherly, "Look at me! Look at me!"
I looked back into his eyes. No point carrying this on. He wouldn't say anything. He was too good for that.
Fuck it. I pulled the trigger. I took a deep breath and wiped away the blood that had splattered onto my face when he took the round. I tried to regain some form of composure. Stop, just take that couple of seconds take another deep breath, and try to work out what the fuck to do next.
The shots would have been heard and reported. At least, I had to plan as if they were. I could still hear Kelly screaming in the distance somewhere.
First priority was the equipment. I pushed myself up off McGear's chest and staggered back into the small office. I ripped the cable and electric cord from the PC, took the sniffer software out of the floppy drive, and put it in my top pocket. I packed everything in the bag and returned to the large office.
I went over to McGear. He looked like Kelly when she was sleeping, except this starfish had a face like a pizza and a large exit wound in the back of his head oozing gray stuff onto the plush carpet.
I picked up the bag, slung it over my left shoulder, and moved into the corridor to pick up my pistol. I had to find Kelly. Easy I just had to follow the screams.
She was fighting with the fire-escape door, the back other coat splattered with blood. She was right up against the door trying to manipulate the handle, but she was in such a state that her fingers couldn't do it. She was jumping from foot to foot, screaming and beating her fists against the door in frustration and fright. I came up behind her, got hold other arm, and shook her.
"Stop it! Stop it!"
It wasn't the right thing to do. She was hysterical.
I looked into her eyes under the tears and said, "Look, people are trying to kill you. Do you understand that? Do you want to die?"
She tried to shake me off. I put my hand over her mouth and listened to her blocked-up nose fighting for oxygen. I got her face right up against mine.
"These people are trying to kill you. Stop crying, do you understand me? Stop crying."
She went quiet and limp and I let go of her.
"Give me your hand, Kelly."
It was like holding lettuce. I said, "Be quiet and just listen to me. You've got to listen to me, OK?" I was looking at her eyes and nodding away.
She just stared through me, tears still running down her cheeks, but she was trying to hold them back.
I pushed the fire-exit bar and cold, damp air hit my face. I couldn't see anything because my night vision was fucked. I dragged Kelly by the hand, and the clunks of our footsteps echoed down t
he metal stairs. I didn't give a fuck about the noise; we'd made enough already.
Running toward the fence, I slipped in the mud. Seeing me fall, Kelly let out a cry and burst into tears again. I shook her and told her to shut up.
As we got to the fence I could already hear sirens on the highway. I had to assume they were coming for us. After a moment I could hear more noise coming from the parking lot area.
"Wait here!"
I climbed up the chain-link fence with the equipment, dropped it over the other side, and jumped. They were getting closer, but I couldn't see them yet. Kelly was looking at me from the other side of the fence, bobbing up and down, hands on the wire.
"Nick--Nick... Don't leave me here."
I didn't even look where I was digging. My eyes were fixed on the gap between the two buildings. Coming from my right to left, flashing blue lights on the highway lit up the sky.
Kelly's whimpers turned to sobs.
I said, "We'll be all right, we'll be all right. Just stay where you are. Look at me! Look at me!" I got eye-to-eye.
"Stay where you are!"
The lights and noise were now on Ball Street. I got hold of my documents and put them in my pocket.
All the vehicles had stopped, their sirens dying. The blue lights were still flashing, reflecting on Kelly's face, wet with tears.
I looked at her through the fence and whispered, "Kelly!
Kelly!"
She was in a daze of fear.
"Kelly, follow me now. Do you understand? Come on!"
I started moving along the fence. She was whining and wanting her mommy. She sounded more and more desperate.
As her feet slapped the ground it made her pleas sound like somebody talking in a helicopter. I said, "You've got to keep up, Kelly, you've got to keep up. Come on!"
I was moving fast. She slipped and fell into the mud. I wasn't there to pick her up this time. She lay there sobbing.
"I
want to go home, I want to go home so bad. Please take me home."
By now there were three police cars on the scene. We weren't even two hundred yards away yet. Very soon they would use their searchlights and spot us.
"Get up, Kelly, get up!"
The target now seemed surrounded by a haze of blue and red lights. Flashlights were already jerking in the darkness at the rear.
We carried on until we got level with the alley. The sound of sirens again filled the night.
I climbed over the fence, the bag nearly landing on top of Kelly as I let it fall. I grabbed her right hand with my left and started toward the alley.
I needed to find a car that was parked in the shadows and old enough to have no alarms.
We emerged from the alley and turned left, following a line of parked cars. I found an early nineties Chevy. I put the bag down and ordered Kelly, "Sit by this."
I opened the bag and got out the picks. Minutes later I was in. I wired up the ignition and the engine fired. The digital clock said 3:33.
I let the engine run and put the windshield wipers and heater on full blast to clear the morning dew. I got hold of Kelly and the bag and threw them both in the back.
"Lie down, Kelly, go to sleep." No argument from her on the lying down. She might have trouble sleeping, though. Perhaps for the rest of her life.
I drove to the road and turned left, nice and slow. After just a quarter of a mile I spotted flashing lights coming toward me. I got my pistol out and put it under my right thigh. If these boys stopped me, I'd have to take them on. There was no way I was going to let the fuckers take us.
I shouted back at Kelly, "Stay down, do not get up, do you understand?"
There was no reply.
"Kelly?"
I got a weak "Yes."
If I had to kill these policemen, it would be unfortunate, but when all was said and done this was the sort of thing they got paid for. I made my plan. If they stopped me, I'd wait until one or both came within range. The pistol was where my hand would naturally go, and I'd draw down on them.
The flashing blue and red came closer. I just drove on toward them. My mind-set was that I was a shift worker, on my way to earn my living. Now their lights were making me screw up my eyes so I could see beyond.
I wasn't worried. I felt very calm. Just wait and see. They sped past at more than sixty.
I looked in the rearview mirror. They hit the brakes; now I was sweating. I watched and made distance at the same time.
The brake lights went off. Either they'd just been slowing down or they'd changed their minds.
I needed to dump this car before first light, which was probably the earliest the owner would discover it missing. I also had to get both Kelly and me a change of clothes, and we had to get into another hotel.
Kelly started yelling, "I want to go home! I want to go home! I want my " "Kelly, we are going home! But not yet!" I had to shout to cut in.
I couldn't see her, so I tilted the mirror. She was curled up with her thumb in her mouth. My mind flashed back to the times I'd found her like that and I said, quietly, "We will, don't worry."
We were following a road that seemed to parallel the Potomac, on its west side. After about half an hour I found an all-night supermarket. I parked. There were maybe twenty or thirty vehicles outside; at that time of the morning most of them probably belonged to employees.
Kelly didn't ask why we were stopping. I turned around and said, "I'm going to get us some more clothes. Do you want anything? Shall I see if they've got a deli and we'll get some sandwiches?"
She whimpered, "Don't go, don't leave me!" She looked as if she'd been slapped. Her face was bright red, with puflfy eyes and wet hair stuck to her face. You don't take a beaten-up seven-year-old with blood on her clothes into a store after four in the morning.
I leaned over into the back, unzipped the bag, and took out the coveralls. I said, "I've got to leave you here. I need somebody to look after everything." I pointed to the bag.
"Can you do that for me? You're a big girl now, a great spy."
She nodded reluctantly.
I started to get the coveralls on while still sitting in the car seat.
"Nick?"
"What?" I was busy fighting with a leg.
"I heard shooting. Is that man dead?"
"Which man is that?" I didn't want to turn around, didn't want to face her.
"No, he's not. I think he made a mistake and thought we were someone else. He'll be OK."
I was now arching my back to get the top half on.
"The police will take him to the hospital."
That was enough of that. I quickly got out of the car and poked my head back in. Before I even started to outline the routine she said, "You're coming back, aren't you? I want to go home and see Mommy."
"Definitely, I will come back, no problems, and you will see Mommy soon."
I turned the interior light on and moved the rearview mirror so I could see my face. The deep cuts on my forehead and under my eye were still wet, the plasma trying hard to get a scab going. I spat on my hand and used the cuff of the coveralls to wipe the rest of the blood off, but there wasn't much more I could do. Industrial accident.
I signaled Kelly to lock the door and lie down. She nodded and complied.
I grabbed a cart and went through the electric door. I got money from the ATM, then two sets of everything for Kelly and me, plus a washing and shaving kit and a box of baby wipes, and some painkillers for my neck. It was hurting bad now. I could look left or right only by turning my whole body.
I must have looked like a robot. I threw in some Coke, chips, and cookies.
There weren't many shoppers. My cuts drew the odd glance but no stares.
I got back to the car and tapped on the window. I didn't say anything. Kelly stared up; the windows were now covered in condensation, so she had to wipe it with her sleeve. I could see she'd been crying. I pointed at the lock, and she opened it.
I was all big smiles.
"Hiya, how's it going?"
There wasn't much of a reply. As I dumped all the purchases onto the passenger seat, I said, "Look, I've got a present for you." I showed her a Snickers bar. There was a reluctant smile. She took it and opened it.
I looked at the car clock. It was nearly 5 a.m. We started driving toward the Beltway, then headed west.
I saw the sign for Dulles International and slowed down for the exit. We had to dump the car soon; I had to assume that the driver was an early riser.
Kelly was lying in the back, staring at the door. Either she was in a dream world, or she had been damaged mentally by what she had seen. At the moment I didn't really care which.
We were about eight miles from Dulles. I started to keep a lookout for hotels. I saw the sign for an Economy Inn.
Absolutely perfect but first, we had to get ourselves cleaned up.
As we continued on toward the airport I could see the wing lights of an aircraft making its approach about four miles away. I followed the signs to the economy parking, having stopped just short to check for cameras at the entrance. There weren't any; they must register on the way out. I took my ticket and parked among thousands of other cars.
"Kelly, we're going to get you dressed in some new clothes," I said.
I showed her what I'd bought, and as she was getting un dressed, I got out the baby wipes and cleaned her face.
"Here, let's get rid of all those tears, let's clean you all up, here you are, here's a brush." I brushed her hair too quickly; it hurt her.
"OK, let's get this sweatshirt on you. Here you go. There, you're looking good. Here's another wipe blow your nose."
While she was doing that, I got myself changed as well, then dumped all the clothes in the passenger foot well Kelly was still looking miserable as the shuttle took us to the terminal. We walked into the departures area. The terminal was busier than I'd been expecting at this time of the morning. People were checking in all along the lines of desks, hanging around in the shops, or sitting in the cafes, reading newspapers.
I wasn't saying much to Kelly, just holding her hand as I moved along, bag on my left shoulder, looking for the Ar rivals sign, then to the taxi stand. An escalator showed me the way down. We were nearly at the bottom when Kelly announced, "I need to go to the bathroom."
