Midnight Runner - Jack Higgins [92]
"So she gets away with it?" Harry said.
At that moment, Daz entered the lounge, still in his operating clothes. Harry was on his feet in seconds. "How is he?"
"I've done all I can here. He was lucky that the bullet in the neck missed a major artery, otherwise he'd have bled to death. Eighteen stitches in the face will leave him with an interesting scar, but the trouble is the other two bullets. They've fractured the pelvic girdle. He's going to need a top orthopedic surgeon when he returns to London, but, in my opinion, it's nothing that can't be put right."
"Where is he now?" Harry asked. "Can I see him?"
"I'd rather not. He's in intensive care. Tomorrow morning would be better."
"When will he be fit for a trip to London?" Ferguson asked.
"I'd say four days from now, assuming no complications."
"Excellent." Ferguson turned to Harry. "You'll want to stay with him?"
"Too bloody right."
"Good. I've got to get back to London, but we'll stay in touch. I'll have the Gulfstream come for you four days from now and I'll discuss the case with Henry Bellamy. If anyone knows who the best orthopedic surgeon in London is, he will."
"Great," Harry said.
"We've got an early start in the morning, Dillon," Ferguson said. "Unless you want to stay with Harry."
"No," Dillon told him. "I might as well go with you. I have things to do in London."
"Right. We might as well have dinner at the Excelsior. Will you join us, Colonel?"
Tony Villiers said, "Thanks, but no, General. I also have things to do."
T he following morning before they left, Ferguson and Dillon stopped by to see Billy. Harry was already sitting in the lounge, having stayed overnight in a guestroom.
A staff nurse went to check if it was all right for them to go in. At the same moment, Tony Villiers entered. He was in a head cloth and tropical uniform, a Browning belted to his waist. He looked tired, his face finely drawn and covered with dust, as was his uniform.
"Good God, Tony," Ferguson said. "What have you been up to?"
"General mayhem. Have you seen Billy yet?"
"We're hoping to any minute."
Salter led the way in. Billy was propped up high, a cage over his legs, tubes everywhere. He was obviously very weak but managed a smile. Salter leaned over and kissed him on the forehead.
"Bleeding hell," Billy said. "What's got into you?" He looked up at Dillon. "We really screwed them, didn't we? Even when she tried, the bitch still couldn't kill me."
"Thanks to the Wilkinson Sword Company and their titanium waistcoats."
"Yeah, let's invest, Harry, buy a few shares."
Dillon cut in. "She's gone, Billy, she and Dauncey, back to London."
"Good riddance." Billy winced in pain. "Let it go, Dillon, she's not worth it."
The staff nurse, standing at the back, said, "I think you'd better leave now, gentlemen."
Villiers said, "One more moment." He moved closer to Billy. "I have a present for you."
"And what would that be?"
"I missed dinner last night because I went up country with my Scouts, camped at El Hajiz. I took a couple of bags of Semtex with me, left my men, and crossed into the Empty Quarter. Just me and my sergeant, Achmed. The conditions were terrible, with the storm, but we hit Kate Rashid's terrorist camp at Fuad at one in the morning, scattered a few blocks of Semtex around with ten-minute pencil timers, and then blew most of the camp to hell--vehicles, ammunition and explosives store, the lot."
"You bastard," Billy said. "You wonderful bastard. I'd laugh, but I'd burst my stitches. Oh, that'll give Her Highness something to think about."
L ater, as the Gulfstream climbed to fifty thousand feet, Dillon called to Sergeant Pound for a cup of tea. They sat in silence for a while.
Finally, Ferguson said, "You were right, absolutely right on this one."
"What do you mean?"
"When you said there was no time to send in the Marines or the SAS. This one required the Dillon touch."
"Yes, it worked, but we were lucky. It might not work the next time."
"Oh, have it your own way, Sean. Just do me a favor."
"God help me when you call me Sean. What would the