Midnight Runner - Jack Higgins [41]
"Do you think he's out there, sir--Abu?"
"I'm sure of it."
"Do you think he'll have another go?"
"Yes, but I don't think he plans to kill anybody else. It'll just be another warning--a reminder that Kate Rashid has her hand on my neck."
"I hope you are right, sir," Bobby said, feelingly.
They sat and talked for an hour. A Scout came forward and tossed more thorn branches on the fire, refilled the kettle with fresh tea and boiling water, and put it close to them.
Bobby picked up the kettle to pour the tea, when there was a single shot, and a puncture appeared, hot liquid spurting as the kettle flew from Bobby's hand.
"Jesus Christ." Bobby jumped up and pulled the Browning from his holster. He stood there, gun extended.
"No," Villiers cried. "It's Abu all over again. If he could hit the kettle, he could have hit you."
The Scouts reached for their rifles, one of the machine gunners opened up into the darkness. Villiers jumped up and waved.
"Stop shooting. He won't fire again."
There was silence. Bobby holstered his Browning and managed a shaky laugh. "I hope you're right, sir."
And then there was a second shot, a heart shot that lifted the boy off his feet and hurled him backwards. The Scouts roared with anger and they started to fire indiscriminately into the darkness. Villiers crouched beside Bobby, who heaved convulsively and died.
Villiers experienced such rage as he had never known. He called to his men. "Stop firing now!" They lowered their weapons reluctantly, and he turned, back to the fire, and spread his arms wide. "Abu, I am here. Where are you? Do you kill boys now? Come try a man!" But the only reply was the sound of a Land Rover starting up and moving away.
A bu drove one-handed and held a scarf against his right cheek. It had been a lucky escape. A stray machine gun bullet, part of the return fire to his kettle shot, had creased his right cheek. He was angry with himself for doing what had not been necessary. His strategy in shooting at Achmed at Hama and the young officer had been sound; he had just wanted to show them that he could have killed them. His second shot at Bobby Hawk could not even be excused as a reflex action. He'd taken his time, and hesitated, but then rage and pain had proved too much for him. He could have shot Villiers, but at least he was sane enough not to have done that. The Countess would understand. At least he hoped so. He pulled in at the side of the dirt road, opened the medical box, and found the plaster dressings, with which he covered his wound. Then he carried on, driving through the night toward Hazar.
T he men were putting Bobby Hawk in a body bag. Villiers sat by the fire drinking from a half bottle of whiskey, kept in the medical box for medicinal purposes. He drank deeply from the neck of the bottle and smoked a cigarette.
He'd asked Kate Rashid why Abu hadn't gone for a head shot on him and she'd said he was too important and meant it. He'd allowed that to cloud his judgment and had gotten it wrong, totally and hopelessly wrong, and Bobby Hawk had paid for it with his life.
Achmed came and said, "Do you wish to look at Cornet Sahb?"
"Yes, thank you, I will."
He stood over the body bag, which was unzipped at the top so that Bobby's face showed, the eyes closed in death. The corruption in the heat of the day would be very quick, the thought of it too hard to bear. And then a thought struck him and he turned to Achmed.
"Close the bag, then tie Sahb to the hood as we did with Omar. We'll leave in ten minutes, and drive down to Hazar through the night."
"As the Colonel Sahb commands."
Villiers sat down again, got out his Codex, and tried Ferguson on the special line at the Ministry of Defence and found him in the office.
"It's me again, Charles. Something bad has happened."
Hannah Bernstein and Dillon happened to be in the office and Ferguson waved a hand and switched his red phone to audio. "Tell me, Tony."
Which Villiers did. "I got it wrong and the boy is dead."
"It's not your fault, Tony. It's Kate Rashid's