Boy soldier

39

Danny was going nowhere – at least not as long as he could hang onto the drainage pipe. He reached down, pulled out his Leatherman and carefully slid it between one of the rectangles in the mesh. 'You're only as sharp as your knife,' he breathed.

Despite his fury, Fergus grabbed at the knife and pulled it through.

'Four guards,' whispered Danny. 'All in the room under this one. And four cars. Can you hot-wire?'

Fergus nodded.

'Elena and Eddie are with me.'

'Elena and . . . ? Danny, what the hell do you think—?'

'I couldn't do it on my own,' hissed Danny. 'I'm not perfect like you.' He was finding it hard to hold onto the pipe; his legs were shaking under the strain. 'Wait out until I give the signal, then try to get out of there and down to the cars.'

'What's the signal?'

'I don't know yet, and it may be quite a while. But you'll know when you hear it.'

He couldn't hold on any longer and began slithering down the pipe.

'Danny, just get away and—'

But he was gone. Fergus closed the window and carefully moved the pallet back to its original position. He hid the knife in his jeans and fixed his eyes on the door and the lock. He could see the tip of the key, held in the key well.

Five minutes earlier he'd been thinking about dying, preparing himself as well as he could. He'd been in many near-death situations. This time there had seemed no hope and too much time to think about it. Now there was hope. Faint, slight hope. But there were no experienced, highly trained SAS veterans out there fighting for him. Fergus's life was in the hands of his seventeen-year-old grandson.



Danny waited until his legs stopped trembling and then moved with Elena back to the fence, where the dumars were hanging. Eddie came bustling through the ferns towards them. 'What did you see? Is he there?'

'Upstairs,' nodded Danny. 'And four guards downstairs. But no sign of Fincham or the woman who was at Meacher's.'

'Four?' breathed Eddie. 'Look, get out now while you still can. At least you know your granddad's alive. We'll get back to London and—'

'I'm not going anywhere without Fergus,' hissed Danny. 'We have to create a diversion to give him the chance to get out.'

'We?'

'Oh, don't worry, Eddie, we'll do it,' snarled Elena. 'You clear off back to London and don't give us a thought. You just think about yourself. We'll probably get killed, like you say, but you'll be all right. You and your precious story. And that's all that matters, isn't it, not someone's life?'

The words came flooding out but eventually Elena fell silent.

Eddie stared at her. 'You finished?'

She nodded.

'Look,' said Eddie, 'it's no good you appealing to my better nature because I haven't got one.'

'Yeah, I'd noticed.'

'And anyway what could I do?'

'You could use your car.'

'To do what?'

Eddie and Danny were both staring at Elena now.

'Drive it down the track towards the compound. Sound the horn, flash the lights, play the radio, do anything to get the four of them out of the house. Once the gates are open, you turn the car round and get away as quick as you can. We'll do the rest.'

Eddie turned to Danny. 'Was this your idea?'

'No, it was not, it was mine,' snapped Elena. 'He's not the only one with a brain.'

'Will you do it?' said Danny. 'It's probably our only chance.'

'But it'll take hours for me to get back to the car.'

'We've got at least two hours till daylight, three maybe.'

'But . . . What if . . . ? But . . .' He was weakening.

'Do it, Eddie,' said Elena softly. 'Please?'

The big reporter shook his head and sighed. 'The minute I see them get to those gates, I'm off. Away. Out of it. Michael Schumacher won't have nothing on me.'

He pulled up the collar on his coat, turned away and began walking. After a few steps he stopped and looked back. 'Crazy,' he murmured. 'Crazy.' And he pulled his coat tightly around his bulky body and hurried off into the night.

There was nothing more Danny and Elena could do but wait. And hope. They crept over to the shelter of the Nissen hut and sat down on the concrete. The night was at its coldest and they huddled closely together.

'Bit hard on him, wasn't I?' said Elena.

'Yep.'

'D'you think he'll come back?'

'Dunno.'

'But what if he doesn't? What do we—?'

'I don't know, Elena. Let's wait and see.'

They were silent for a few moments. The cold was beginning to bite.

'You tired?'

'Knackered.'

'Yeah.'

They lapsed into total silence, both of them thinking of Eddie blundering his way through the forest, both of them hoping he wouldn't give up. They battled the cold and tiredness, speaking only occasionally, sometimes dozing lightly and then suddenly waking with a start.

After two hours the door to the house opened and another of the men came out. They were both instantly wide awake, listening to every footstep as he checked the gates and made his inspection of the fence. He walked straight past the dumars without looking up, quickly completed his circuit and went back into the house.

Danny looked at his watch and then up at the sky. The first slight hint of daylight was beginning to crease the darkness above the treetops.

'He's not coming back, is he?' said Elena.

Danny shook his head. 'Looks like it's down to us.'

They stood up and moved cautiously over to the back of the house.





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