Ultimate Weapon (52 page)

The words stung, but Nick brushed the insult aside. ‘Really,’ he said. ‘That’s some gamble you’re taking.’

The smile on her lips vanished. With her fingers twitching Laura yanked harder on Sarah’s hair, and moved the Beretta down a fraction of an inch, so that it was pressed into the side of her cheek, pointing upwards. A bullet fired from there, Nick judged, was going to travel right through the centre of the skull and lodge itself in the brain. Nobody could survive a shot like that. Nobody.

That’s some gamble I’m taking as well, he thought grimly, gripping his fist so tight on the rock in his hand he suspected it was about to pierce his skin.

‘I’ll do it,’ said Laura. ‘I’m giving you five seconds to get her talking. Or else she’s dead.’

‘One …’

Nick took another pace forward, leaving just three yards between him and the spot where both women were standing.

‘Two …’

Nick paused, judging the speed and trajectory he would need to travel to knock the gun from her hand with the stone before she fired.
If only I wasn’t bloody wounded …

‘Three …’

‘Dad,’ Sarah shouted.

There was a thread of fear in her voice that Nick had never heard before, not even when she was a little
girl. It was the voice of a woman who realised she was about to die.

‘Four …’

Nick hovered menacingly three yards away, the rock poised in his hand. There is nothing worse than your child dying before you do, he thought. I couldn’t live with that.
I won’t …

‘OK, you talk right now, or I’ll fucking execute you,’ Laura snarled.

‘Hold it right there,’ said Jed.

Nick glanced up. Through the swirls of snow, Jed had suddenly emerged. His hair and clothes were dusted with snow and ice, and there was still blood dripping from his wounded shoulder. The wind was blowing around him, and the skin on his face and his hands looked ragged and blue. He was standing right in the entrance to the cave, just ten yards behind where Laura was holding on to Sarah.

‘Let her go,’ said Jed.

In his hand was Salek’s Viper. It was held out in front of him, pointing straight at Laura’s head. Yet, Nick noted, it was in his left hand. His right hand was too badly damaged from the punishment his shoulder had taken to hold a gun straight. But Jed is right-handed, Nick reminded himself. Not many men can shoot equally well with both hands.

Laura glanced round. She was still holding on to Sarah’s hair, and the Beretta was still nestling in her cheek. ‘Get out of here,’ she said. ‘This is nothing to do with you.’

‘Let her go,’ Jed repeated.

‘You’ll face a court martial,’ Laura snapped.

‘I said, let her go.’ Jed’s voice was clear, almost monotonous and drained of emotion, as if it was a robot speaking.

‘Tell her to talk to me, Jed.’ Her voice was becoming anxious. ‘Then we can all get out here.’

‘You want to talk to her?’ said Jed, glancing towards Sarah.

‘I’m not telling her anything,’ said Sarah.

Jed looked back at Laura. ‘I’ve got a clear shot from here,’ he said slowly. ‘If you don’t let her go right now, then I’ll shoot you. Your choice.’

‘And I’ll shoot her,’ Laura snapped, yanking harder on Sarah’s hair.

Jed glanced towards Nick. ‘I can drop her from here,’ he said. ‘Want me to squeeze the trigger?’

Nick looked at the distance between them. He’d spent half his life judging the trajectory of bullets, but this calculation was impossible. Whether the bullet would take Laura down before she had a chance to fire her own gun it was impossible to say from here. You had to be standing behind the gun.
You had to be the man squeezing the trigger.

‘You good enough?’ he growled.

‘Dad, he’s good enough,’ said Sarah.

‘You good enough?’ Nick repeated, looking straight at Jed.

There was a moment’s hesitation, just long enough for Jed to target the Viper perfectly in line with the top
of Laura’s skull, but not long enough for any flickers of doubt to start clouding his vision.

Jed gave a curt nod of his head.

‘You’ve trained with a Viper?’ said Nick.

Jed shook his head. ‘You’ve trained to shoot with your left hand?’

Jed shook his head again.

‘But you still reckon you’re good enough?’

Jed nodded.

‘Then drop her,’ snapped Nick.

Summoning all his concentration, Jed positioned the sights on the Viper with the back of Laura’s head. He knew he had to hit the medulla oblongata, a tiny portion of the brain about the size of an egg that rested right on top of the spinal cord and controlled the central nervous system. Sever that, and the victim would no longer be able to control movement of any of their limbs, even if they were still alive. It was protected by a thick layer of bone, one of the toughest in the whole body, but it could still be penetrated by a bullet that came in with precisely the right force and velocity. Just eight yards, he told himself, as he felt a drop of cold sweat slither down the back of his spine.
You can’t miss. You really can’t miss …

The bullet exploded from the barrel of the Viper. It crashed into Laura’s spine, ripping through the flesh and up into the brain. In the same instant, Nick flung himself forwards. It was too late for him to do anything. The bullet had already proved true. Laura had lost control of her body the moment the bullet struck, and the Beretta
had already dropped from her hand, crashing down on to the hard stone.

Sarah flung herself into her approaching father’s arms. He caught her and cradled her to his chest, as Laura fell to the ground behind her. ‘It’s OK,’ he said, holding her close to him. ‘It’s all over now.’

Jed closed the yards that now separated him from the spot where Laura had fallen. Even though he was still weak and half frozen from crawling up the mountain, he could feel the relief flooding through him.
If I live to a hundred, I never want to have to take another shot like that.

He bent down. Laura’s eyes were still open, and there was still breath on her lips. Her heart was still beating, but with her central nervous system out she wouldn’t last more than a few minutes. Put her out of her misery, Jed told himself grimly. Leaning closer just a fraction of an inch, he squeezed on the trigger of the Viper. Two bullets smashed through the front of her skull, her head turned to one side and a trickle of blood seeped out of the corner of her mouth.

Nick looked at Jed. ‘I can’t believe you never trained to shoot left-handed,’ he said. ‘Bloody waste of space the Regiment these days, doesn’t teach a guy anything.’Then he broke into a smile.

‘Maybe I got lucky,’ said Jed.

Nick shook his head. ‘Men get lucky in the bookie’s, and sometimes in a nightclub,’ he said. ‘But there’s no such thing as a lucky shot. You’ve either got what it takes or you haven’t.’

He let go of Sarah and she looked at Jed and smiled. Instinctively she fell into his arms, and for a moment Jed just rested on her shoulder. He could feel her warmth, and smell her familiar smell. His eyes closed. The pain in his shoulder was still burning, and as the numbness of the wound started to wear off, he could feel the hole burning his flesh every time he moved. None of that matters, he told himself. The pain will fade in time. So long as I’m in her arms.

‘Christ, you’re bleeding,’ said Sarah. ‘We’ve got to get you out of here.’

‘I’ll be fine,’ said Jed through gritted teeth.

The three of them started to walk from the cave. The wind was still howling off the mountainside, and snow flurries were kicking up through the air. Looking down, Jed could see the weather had cleared down in the valley, but they had an hour’s hard walking through the snow before they got there.

‘Where in the name of Christ do we go now?’ said Sarah.

‘Just bear east,’ said Nick. ‘It a long walk, and we’re in no state for it, I’ll admit that, but if we keep heading east we’ll hit Turkey. We’ll be safe there.’

‘Bollocks,’ snapped Jed. ‘We could be across into Syria in two days. We head west.’

‘Syria?’ said Nick. ‘I’m not setting foot in that hell-hole. They’ll throw us straight into their dungeons.’

‘And we’ll die trying to get into Turkey,’ said Jed.

Sarah raised her hands. ‘Guys, just stop arguing,’ she said. ‘
Please …
’

3 December 2003.
Jed glanced nervously up at Nick. A lot of guys might feel a bit edgy about the father of the bride’s speech, he thought, as he took another sip on his glass of wine.
But probably not as nervous as I do. There’s no way of telling what the old sod might say
.

‘May I just begin by thanking you all for being here today, the caterers for laying on such a magnificent spread, and particularly Jed’s mother Debbie for helping out so much on all the preparations,’ Nick began.

Nick looked uncomfortable in the morning suit he’d hired for the occasion. He’d already had a couple of glasses of wine, and although he might have been famous for holding his drink in his day, he’d kept himself on the wagon so long you could no longer be sure he knew how to handle his alcohol. He was standing slightly uneasily, no doubt partly the result of the false leg he’d had fitted: after walking for so long on the badly wounded thigh, the doctors had had no choice but to amputate it when they’d finally made their way back to an American military base in Turkey. He’d known all along he was going to lose the leg, Jed had realised at
the time, and not complained once: that alone was a testament to the strength of the guy.

‘As I watched Sarah standing there, saying “I do”, I noticed the easy and calm way she pronounced the words, and I thought, that’s the first time she’s ever agreed with anything a man said to her … and it’ll probably be the last as well.’

Jed joined in the ripple of laughter running around the room. He glanced at Sarah, watched her looking lovingly up at her father, and smiled. It was good to see her looking so happy. Since their return from Iraq, she’d been resting for a few months, getting her health and strength back, and would be going back to Cambridge in the new year to start her work again. And he’d be starting a new job in the City: he’d resigned from the Regiment, and found that a combination of an engineering degree from Cambridge and a couple of years in the SAS were a good enough CV to land him a job in banking. At least he’d be earning proper money, and he wouldn’t have anybody shooting at him. There was still some damage to the shoulder bone where he’d taken the bullet, but the doctors said he should make a full recovery. I’m lucky even to be here today, he thought.
We all are.

‘One thing I always told Sarah as a little girl was never marry a soldier,’ said Nick. ‘They drink too much, they don’t make enough money, and they don’t come home to their families very often. Sometimes ever …’

He paused to take a sip on his glass of wine, and looked around the room. There were about a hundred people there, some family, some mutual friends they had
grown up with around the area, and a few of Jed’s mates from the Regiment. ‘She ignored me, of course, just like she ignored pretty much everything I’ve ever advised her on. Sarah has always known her own mind. She decides what she wants, and then she goes out and gets it. Nothing is ever allowed to stand in her way, as I think Jed will probably discover during the course of what I hope will be a long and happy life together.

‘But if she was going to marry a soldier, I couldn’t have asked for her to marry a better one than Jed. As some of you know, I’ve been there and I’ve seen him in action. He’s brave, determined, fearless … and he’s going to have to be all of those things to put up with Sarah’s driving.

‘I couldn’t have asked for a better son-in-law,’ he continued. ‘Ladies and gentlemen, raise your glasses to Jed and Sarah.’

Christ, thought Jed. I’ve got away with that speech.
There’s just the best man’s speech to get through now.

The car pulled away from the driveway of the hotel, and started heading back towards the main road. Jed had booked a suite for them at the Ston Easton Park hotel, and from there they were getting a flight from Bristol to Malaga in the morning for their honeymoon. Two weeks of relaxation. Sarah leant back into Jed’s shoulder, a peaceful, and only slightly inebriated, smile on her face.

Jed kissed her lightly on the lips. ‘You’re looking good, Mrs Bradley,’ he said.

‘We’ll have no fucking around in this car, please, you
bloody rat-faced nancy boy,’ snarled a voice from the front seat.

Jed looked up from the back seat, startled. Jim Muir, the government’s chief spin doctor who he argued with at the Firm, was sitting on the front passenger seat, looking straight back at him. Glancing into the mirror, he could see that the hired Bentley wasn’t being driven by the chauffeur who’d been supplied by the rental firm, but by David Wragg, the deputy director of the Firm, and the man who had first sent Jed into Iraq. Looking ahead, he could see an unmarked Audi slowing down a few yards in front of them. Right behind, there was a Land Rover Discovery with at least four plain-clothes officers sitting in its front and back seats.

They’ve sandwiched us in, Jed thought.
There’s no bloody escape …

‘Thought I’d forgotten about you two, did you?’ said Muir. ‘Well, let me tell you something, the government is like an elephant, and not just because we have fat, ugly, grey arses. We
never
forget.’