Remote Control (34 page)
Authors: Andy McNab
‘Kelly . . .’
I sat next to her and started stroking her hair as she lay with her head on my lap.
‘Kelly, when you get home, Mummy, Daddy and Aida will not be there. They never will now. They’ve gone to heaven. Do you know what that means?’
I said it almost as a throwaway, not really wanting to get into it any deeper. I wanted her to say, ‘Oh, I see,’ and then ask me if we could have a Micky D’s.
There was a gap while she thought about it. All I could hear was the hum of the air-conditioning.
Her face creased into a frown. ‘Is it because I was a bad girl and didn’t help Daddy?’
I felt as if somebody was stabbing me. But it wasn’t too hard a question; I felt OK answering that one. ‘Kelly, even if you had tried to help Daddy, they would still have died.’
She was crying quietly into my leg. I rubbed her back and tried to think of something to say.
I heard, ‘I don’t want them to be dead. I want to be with them.’
‘But you are.’ I was fumbling for words.
She lifted her face and looked at me.
‘You are with them. Every time you do something that you did with them means they are with you.’
She was trying to work this one out. So was I.
‘Every time I eat a pizza with mushrooms I think of your mummy and daddy, because I know Mummy liked them. That’s why they are never far away from me – and why Mummy, Daddy and Aida will be with you all the time.’
She looked at me, waiting for more. ‘What do you mean?’
I was struggling. ‘I mean, every time you put plates on a table, Mummy will be with you because she showed you how. Every time you shoot hoops, Daddy is with you because he taught you. Every time you show someone how to do something, Aida is with you – that’s because you used to do it with her. You see, they are always with you!’
I didn’t know how good it was, but it was the best I could come up with. She was back on my leg and I could feel the heat of her tears and breath.
‘But I want to
see
them. When will I see them, Nick?’
see
them. When will I see them, Nick?’
I hadn’t got through. I didn’t know who was more upset, me or Kelly. A large lump was swelling in my throat. I had got into something I couldn’t get out of.
‘They aren’t coming back, Kelly. They are dead. It’s not because of anything you did or didn’t do. They didn’t want to leave you. Sometimes things happen that even grown-ups can’t avoid or fix.’
She lay there listening. I looked down. Her eyes were open, staring at the wall. I stopped stroking her and put my arm around her.
People need to show sadness and loss. Maybe this was the time for Kelly to do that. If so, I wanted to reach out, not cross the street. I just didn’t know if this was how you did it.
‘You will be with them one day, but not for a long time. You will have children first, just like Mummy. Then your children will be sad when you die, just like you are now. They all loved you very much, Kelly. I only knew your mummy and daddy for a few years. Just think – you knew them all your life!’
I saw a small smile moving the sides of her face. She pressed her body closer into my legs.
‘I want to stay with you, Nick.’
‘That would be nice, but it wouldn’t work. You have to go to school and learn how to be a grown-up.’
‘You can help me do that.’
If only she knew. I didn’t even have a garage to keep a bike in, let alone somewhere to look after a child.
Your weapon, your kit, and only then yourself – that’s the order of things. I wanted to ease my magazine springs; it wasn’t strictly necessary, but I felt that I needed to do it to mark the end of one phase and the beginning of a new one.
By now Kelly was sound asleep.
I plugged in the telephone to keep it recharged. It was my lifeline. Then I tipped all the kit from the bag and sorted it out. The new clothes were put to one side and I packed the CTR stuff back into the holdall. I was pissed off about having to leave the video camera on the roof; it would be found and a connection inevitably made between us and the shooting. Plus, the videotape was lost, and that might have been of use to Simmonds – it might even have been enough to guarantee me a future.
I repacked the kit and lay back on the bed, hands behind my head. Listening to the low drone of the air-conditioning, I started to think about this whole fucking game and how people like me and McGear were the ones that got used time and time again. When I realized I was starting to feel sorry for myself, I cut it. McGear and I both had a choice and this was what we chose to do.
There were a few good things that had come out of last night’s drama. At least I didn’t have to worry about dumping all the blood- and piss-stained clothes that were in the blue holdall. The police would no doubt match the blood to the Browns’, but that was nothing compared with the trouble I was already in. And, best of all, I had confirmed a definite connection between Kev, PIRA, the building and whatever it was that I’d copied from that computer.
I wasn’t going to attempt to get the laptop out and start faffing about with it. I was too tired, I’d make mistakes and miss things. Besides, the adrenalin had gone now and the pain across my back and neck was even more intense.
I had a hot shower and tried to shave. McGear’s bite marks on my face were scabbing nicely. I left them to sort themselves out.
I dressed in jeans, sweatshirt and trainers, and reloaded my mags. I needed rest, but I had to be ready for a quick move. The plan was to have a couple of hours’ sleep and something to eat, and then sit down and see what was on the laptop, but it wasn’t working out. I was tossing and turning, snatching a bit of sleep, waking up.
I turned on the TV and flicked through the channels to see if McGear was news yet, and he was.
The cameras panned the front of the PIRA building, with the obligatory backdrop of police and ambulance crews, then a man fronted to camera and started gobbing off. I didn’t bother turning up the volume, I knew the gist of what he’d be saying. I was half expecting to see my pisscovered, homeless friend describing what he had seen and heard.
Kelly was starting to toss and turn, probably with pictures of McGear in her head.
I lay there looking at her. The girl had done well, without a doubt. The last few days had been chaos for her and I started to worry about it. Seven-year-old kids shouldn’t be exposed to this sort of shit. Nobody should. What would become of her? It suddenly occurred to me that I was worrying more about her than I was about myself.
I woke with the TV still on. I looked at my watch. Nine thirty-five. At midday Pat would be calling me. I hit the off button. I wanted to start mincing about with the laptop. I started to get up and found I could hardly move. I felt like an OAP as I lifted myself off the bed, my neck as stiff as a board.
I made a racket getting the laptop out of the holdall and plugging everything in, and Kelly started to wriggle around. By the time I’d got it up and running and connected to the back-up drive she was propped up on one elbow watching me. Her hair looked like an explosion. She listened for a while as I cursed at the laptop for not accessing the back-up drive, then said, ‘Why don’t you just reboot and then look at the program?’
I looked at her as if to say, You fucking smart arse! Instead, I said, ‘Mmm, maybe.’ I rebooted and it worked. I turned round and smiled at her and got one in return.
I started to scroll through the files. Instead of the businesslike file names I’d been expecting, the documents had code words like Weasel, Boy, Guru. A lot of them turned out to be spreadsheets or invoices – I could see what they were, but I didn’t know what they meant. To me, the whole forty or so pages might just as well have been in Japanese.
I then opened up another file called Dad. It was just dots and numbers across the screen. I turned to Kelly, ‘What’s that, then, smart guy?’
She looked. ‘I don’t know. I’m only seven; I don’t know everything.’
It was five minutes to noon. I turned on the phone and carried on flicking through the files, trying to make sense of them.
Twelve o’clock came and went.
By quarter past, the call still hadn’t happened. I was flapping. Come on, Pat, I need to get out of the US and back to Simmonds. I have enough information – maybe. The longer I stay now, the higher the risk. Pat, I need you!
For Slack to miss an RV there must be a major drama; even when he was high, he’d come up with the goods. I tried to block dark thoughts out of my head by telling myself that he’d call at the next arranged window. But as I carried on half-heartedly on the laptop I started to feel almost physically sick. My only way out had been lost. I had that awful sinking feeling that everything was going to go horribly wrong. I needed to do something.
I closed down the laptop and put the back-up disk in my pocket. Kelly was half buried under the covers, watching TV.
I joked, ‘Well, you know what I’m going to do in a minute, don’t you?’
She jumped out of bed and threw her arms around me, frowning. ‘Don’t go! Don’t go! We’ll watch the TV together, or I can come with you?’
‘You can’t do that, I want you to stay here.’
‘Please!’
What could I do? I felt her pain at being scared and alone. ‘OK, come with me – but you’ve got to do what I say.’
‘OK, OK!’ She jumped up and went to get her coat.
‘No, not yet!’ I pointed to the bathroom. ‘First things first. Get in that bath, wash your hair, come out and I’ll dry it, then you can get changed into your new clothes, and then we’ll go out. OK?’
She was trembling with excitement, like a dog about to go for walkies. ‘Yeah, OK!’ She skipped to the bathroom.
I sat down on the bed and shouted into the bathroom as I flicked through the news channels, ‘Kelly, make sure you brush your teeth or they’ll all fall out and you won’t be able to eat when you’re older.’
I heard ‘Yeah, yeah, OK.’
There was nothing more about McGear on the TV. After a while I walked into the bathroom. The toothpaste tube hadn’t been opened. ‘Have you brushed your teeth?’
She nodded, looking guilty.
I said, ‘Well, let’s have a smell.’ I bent down and put my nose near her mouth. ‘You haven’t. Come on, do you know how to brush your teeth?’
‘I know how to brush my teeth.’
‘Show me, then.’
She picked up the toothbrush. It was way too big for her mouth and she was brushing from side to side.
I said, ‘That’s not the way you’ve been taught, is it?’
She said, ‘Yes, it is!’
I shook my head slowly. I knew that she would have been taught properly. I said, ‘All right, we’ll do it together.’ I put some toothpaste on the brush and made her stand in front of the mirror. I stood beside her and she watched as I pretended to brush. Looking after kids was easy after all. It was all down to EDI: explanation, demonstration, imitation. Just that, instead of doing it with a weapon to a room full of recruits, I was doing it with a seven-year-old girl. ‘Now with me, like this, then brush round in little circles. And let’s make sure we do the backs.’
And then it got stupid. She started to laugh at the sight of me pretending to brush my teeth and, as she laughed, all the toothpaste sprayed from her mouth and onto the mirror. I laughed with her.
She finished her bath and changed into her new jeans and sweatshirt. I’d also bought us matching baseball hats at the mart, black denim with the words, Washington, DC.
I wet my hair and washed, and we both looked sparkly clean. She put on her new blue coat and trainers and we were ready to go. My plan was to get to the vicinity of Pat’s apartment. When he rang at six o’clock, we’d be able to meet straight away.
What was I going to do with the back-up disk? I decided to hide it in the room, because I was going to split my gold: if the back-up stayed here, and Kelly came with me and we were lifted, at least they wouldn’t have the job lot. The long, dark-wood sideboard with the TV on top covered a third of the room; it was about two feet high and rested on little half-inch legs. I lifted one corner, gaffer-taped the disk to the underside and positioned a couple of tell-tales. One last look around the room and we left.
It was still drizzling and was slightly colder than earlier in the morning. Kelly was on cloud nine; I reciprocated her smiles and happy noises, but underneath I was flapping about Pat. As we crossed the grass to avoid reception I wondered about phoning Euan. I decided not to. Not yet anyway. I might need him later. He was a card to keep up my sleeve.
The whole area was dotted with hotels. We walked across the road to one about 400 metres away, and I went into the lobby and ordered a taxi. Kelly waited outside under the awning.
As I came out again I said, ‘When we get into this taxi I’m going to put your hood up and I want you to rest against me as if you’re sleepy. Remember, you promised you’d do exactly what I said.’
The taxi turned up and took us to Georgetown. Kelly leaned against me and I got her nuzzled in on my lap with her hood up so it hid her.
Other books
La hija del Apocalipsis by Patrick Graham
The Ghostly Hideaway by Doris Hale Sanders
Bound To Love by Sally Clements
Today's Promises by S.R. Grey
Glass Houses by Jane Haddam
The Kashmir Shawl by Rosie Thomas
The Circle Line by Ben Yallop
Tiger Threat by Sigmund Brouwer
The Nightmare Dilemma (Arkwell Academy) by Arnett, Mindee
France Restored: Cold War Diplomacy and the Quest for Leadership in Europe, 1944-1954 by William I. Hitchcock
