Deep Black - Andy McNab [120]
He looked up, his face still creased with pain. ‘No, just weird stuff, really. He wanted to thank me for killing the son of an aggressor whore. He said Nuhanovic would be happy – they were animals and not good for business, they messed up business . . . something like that . . .’
‘What the fuck did he mean by that?’
‘Dunno . . . he was pretty spaced out . . .’
I looked down at Jerry as he tried to clear enough blood from his nose to breathe. Why hadn’t Salkic just said Goatee was the son of an aggressor whore, and leave it at that? ‘You sure he said “business”?’
He didn’t bother looking up. ‘Yep, for sure.’
‘Shit.’ I took a couple of very deep breaths and threw the locator to the ground. ‘You’re not the only one round here who’s fucked up . . .’
I dragged him to his feet. ‘Come on, in the van. We’re going.’
90
Frost glazed the fields and road and sparkled under a clear sky.
The heater was on full blast, but wasn’t up to spec. It couldn’t even demist the windscreen, let alone keep us warm. The back windows, though, were fine. The sacks and diesel cans were probably snug as fuck.
Jerry’s breath billowed round his head as he leaned forward, teeth rattling, to wipe the glass with his sleeve.
I followed suit with my side of the screen. ‘That Kevin Carter photo? The way no one looked past the vulture and the girl to the real story? I reckon I’ve fucked up and not seen the real picture of Nuhanovic.’
‘The real Nuhanovic?’
‘What if Nasir wasn’t in Baghdad looking after Nuhanovic, but there doing business for him? What if he was doing exactly the same as that arsehole Goatee? The competition.’
‘Nuhanovic? Come on . . .’
‘Why not?’
‘Even if you’re right about Nasir, it doesn’t mean Nuhanovic is involved.’
‘Doesn’t it? Remember what Salkic said? They don’t work for him, they serve him. They do jack shit off their own back, they follow his orders. So just what the fuck was he doing in “Chetnik Mama”?’
‘Fuck.’ He slumped back in his seat.
‘You got it. So what was I really seeing at the cement factory? Was he saving the girls, or trading them?’
‘So . . . Zina . . .’
I nodded. ‘Got it again. Tell you what, if I’m right I’ll kill the fucker for you.’
The van lurched into a pot-hole; Jerry groaned and grabbed his abdomen. I didn’t feel too bad about it. The pain would soon disappear. The damage to his face would take a lot longer.
Jerry pulled the rag away from his nose. ‘Not seeing the whole picture . . .’ He gave a deep sigh. ‘That wasn’t my family you met in DC. I don’t know who the fuck the woman was.’
‘So that was all bullshit too?’
He nodded. ‘I am married to Renee. I have got a daughter. They just weren’t the ones you met.’
He leaned back, trying to ease the tension in his neck.
‘She knows nothing about this. She thinks I’m in Brazil covering the elections . . . What if I fuck up, man?’
‘Listen, the only chance of Chloë surviving is if you just do exactly what I tell you and George never finds out that I know. Once we’re back in DC, you stick to the story – whatever that’s going to be.’
I didn’t add that for the rest of his life he must never tell anyone, not even his wife. Whoever she was.
For myself, I felt strangely OK about George stitching me up. I’d always known he wasn’t one for loose ends. I’d become one the moment I wanted a bike instead of him. At least I knew where I stood.
What a set-up. I bet George had enjoyed rigging up the exhibition and the false family as much as any operation he’d ever prepared.
We carried on down the road and I couldn’t help smiling as he told me about his made-up family. ‘The woman didn’t know how to change a diaper. I had to show her. Even then she wouldn’t do it.’
Unless they knew George’s previous, most people would find it hard to imagine that a man representing a western democratic government could act this way. But Jerry had seen a bit of shot and shell in his time, as well as the bullshit that surrounded it. He knew better. But it wasn