Dead Centre - Andy McNab [118]
He nodded. ‘No problem, Mr Nick.’
‘But remember, if anything goes wrong, these two lads will be gunning for you and Erasto. They won’t give a fuck, mate, and I won’t be able to stop them. Remember what I said, about a war? There’ll be many more than these two coming if there’s a fuck-up.’
Awaale got onto his feet. He had to stoop so his head didn’t bang on the aircraft ceiling. ‘Mr Nick, no problem. But remember, Erasto wants the other two white guys.’
‘Yeah, but only after I’ve finished with them.’
Mr Lover Man waffled to Genghis, and that was one part of the deal they both liked.
Genghis opened the cargo hold’s shutter door and Awaale was almost thrown out onto the pan. He checked his shirt to make sure his money was safely in place.
I stayed where I was. Mr Lover Man and Genghis kept themselves to the sides of the airframe so they remained in cover. They mumbled away in Russian, weapons in the shoulder, standing by to see what Erasto was going to do now there really was three million just metres away; three million that would go up in smoke if he tried to take it. I hoped he was thinking the best thing to do was just make the deal.
I heard M4 safety catches coming off. It was followed by one click of Joe’s safety lever, to auto.
Mobiles rang outside. Bob Marley gave it large about guiltiness. The two in the back mumbled quietly again.
‘Remember, lads – you get the fire down. I’ll go for the vehicle.’
Awaale walked to the double cab of Erasto’s technical as I got back into the right seat.
The music changed suddenly from reggae to Arabic wailing. I could see Awaale leaning through the window, waffling away. Eventually he nodded and came back towards me. He wasn’t looking happy. He had his hands up in an exaggerated shrug.
‘Wait … wait. Not until they kick off first.’
I opened the cockpit door until there was just enough of a gap for him to talk through.
‘Mr Nick, we have a problem. Erasto says it isn’t enough.’
I leant down. ‘What? What the fuck are you on about? That was the deal, Awaale. You know that was the deal.’
The two lads in the back bristled as Mr Lover Man translated.
The growl was almost a roar. ‘We go now, we go now!’
Awaale shook his head wildly. ‘Wait, wait!’ He knew what was coming. ‘Everything is good, it’s the tax – it’s the airport tax. Erasto says you must pay the tax.’
Joe almost blew the windows out with his reply. ‘For fuck’s sake, man, you want another three hundred fucking dollars?’
Awaale looked at him as if it was the most reasonable request in the world. ‘Yes. You must pay your taxes.’
As Mr Lover Man translated, I couldn’t do anything but laugh. Awaale joined in, and then they all did.
15
THE LAUGHTER STOPPED as Joe passed the envelope and Awaale stood there and counted its contents.
‘Are you going to call the skiffs in now, mate, or what?’
Awaale turned back and waved the envelope towards the technicals. The headlights on Erasto’s flashed. Awaale got on his mobile. The exchange was short and sharp. ‘It’s OK, of course, Mr Nick. The boats are coming now. You see, everything is good.’ He flicked his fingers.
I started to get out of the aircraft.
‘Yep, mate, it’s all good. I want to come with you, and these lads are going to stay here with the money, all right?’
He was already on his way to the technicals. I leant back into the aircraft once I had both feet on the tarmac. ‘Listen in, lads. The deal is, I have ten minutes with the two Georgians, or whoever the fuck they are. But I don’t want to be on the ground any longer than we need to. What do you reckon?’
I looked at the ones who understood English. They nodded.
‘We fuck off the moment everybody’s on board. I’m not sure what these fuckers are going to do. They might still try to take us, and go for another round of cash. It would certainly cross my mind.
‘But I’ve got places to go as soon as this shit is over. I need to get away as fast as I can. So I’m now going down to the technicals. I’ll collect