“Okay. Thanks Monty. It’s been quite a day and it’s not over.”
“Like I said killing someone isn’t easy.”
“Have you?”
“Yes. I was in the parachute regiment. I’m rare for DIC. I was recruited in the eighties after I came back from the Falklands. I don’t have a degree, but for some reason they head hunted me and here I am. Yes I’ve seen death. If action doesn’t leave an outer scar like the one Beaumont will have it leaves one on the inside. I’ll be in the lobby.”
David nodded. The door closed behind Monty and David sat heavily on the bed and held his phone.”
“David, are you well?” Jack asked.
“Yes, but I’m a little shaken and a bit overawed by events. I’m okay though.”
“Good. You did well…”
David interrupted.
“I made mistakes and I got Beaumont hurt.”
“You did well David. Firstly these men are trained killers, no mercy. You are not a trained killer. Secondly whatever you didn’t do right didn’t get you or Beaumont killed. Wally went casually and unarmed. His mistake got him killed. Thirdly these men are extremely dangerous especially as they don’t seem to want to be taken alive. I can’t imagine the price being paid for their services, but it must be high. No you did fine, but perhaps you had better come back to London, report in and go home. You’ve done enough. Consider your two week duty done.”
“Thanks Jack. I’m going to visit my father, he lives near Monty.”
“That’s a good idea, then home to that family of yours and just home monitoring for you. I’ll arrange counselling services to visit you at home for next week.”
“Thanks Jack.”
“There’ll be a Lear Jet at Glasgow Airport in one and a half hours. We’ll fly you in to Stansted.
“Thanks again Jack.”
“Good job David. I’ll see you for lunch in fact can I order you a sandwich?”
“Yes cheese and piccalilli.”
“Okay. See you then.”
David hung up. There’d been no hint from Jack that he thought McKie had failed, but David didn’t like the fact that he was being sent home before his two weeks were up. There was a crisis on and Jack had called in extra teams. He was sure that Jack had felt that he had failed. He packed up the gear, took both rucksacks and went down to the lobby where Monty was waiting. They climbed into the green Mondeo silently, Monty noting David’s sullen face. He was diplomatically silent for the first half of the journey.
They drove out of Glasgow and onto the M74. It wasn’t until the car cruised along the roads adjacent to the Clyde where bright green trees and flashes of light lancing off the water made for so peaceful and calm a scene that Monty felt disposed to break into David’s deep thoughts.
“What did Jack say?”
“He said there’ll be a jet for me in an hour and a half. I’ve to go home, to Dover, duty over.”
“That’s good. Have they arranged someone to talk to you?”
“It’s being done. Is that usual?”
“For DIC yes, they take any trauma seriously. Other firms or services might not.”
“I didn’t know.”
“You thought he was sending you home with a flea in your ear to be nannied by some psychotherapist?”
“It seemed like it.”
Monty laughed.
“What’s so funny?” David asked.
“Well…” Monty paused thinking “…everyone thinks it’s like the films. Blazing away with a gun, watching people die, all that blood and death and then at the end you kiss the girl and it’s alright. You’re not James Bond you know. In fact the man you killed today is more like James Bond. He was a hired killer. People like that are desensitized to death as all the bodies turning up demonstrate. When the army trains it’s to do three things. The first is follow orders, the second is work together and be loyal and the third is that they brutalise you so that being able to kill people is easier than it naturally feels. Thing is that afterwards it can eat into the brain; the mind gets fractured by trauma. I should know. I got help from DIC I wouldn’t have got it from the MoD.”
“I suppose that’s true. My father was in the Black Watch.”
“Was he now? How has he coped?”
“He’s not bad. He had a drink thing for a while after he was invalided out, but it cleared up when my mother died and he had to look after me.”
“You see his therapy was throwing himself into care. That would have brought out the human again. Jack is sending you home for your safety. You’ve done something that we’re taught is bad, you’ve killed. So you go home… got a family?”
The car crossed the rail bridge onto Merry Street. David knew where he was.
“Yes a wife, pregnant, and a son.”
“So you see your dad, I drive you to the plane and you go home to Dover, hug your wife play with your son and sit the rest of this one out. We work as a team. You’ve done a tough bit of this job for us and it’s time to be substituted.”
“You’re right. Thanks Monty.”
Finally on Parneuk Street Monty turned into Sunflower gardens. He pulled up, but didn’t turn the engine off.
“I’m up the road from here, round the corner past Thyme Square. Walk round in about twenty minutes and I’ll take you to the airport.”
David got out and knocked on the door. His father opened it, leaning on his stick, his tall figure mildly stooped by the limp.
“Hello son. You’d better come in.”
The door closed behind David and Monty pulled up at his house around the corner completely unaware that Trevor Stanton, the man that he and the whole DIC organisation were searching for, was asleep in the house opposite him.
Chapter 59
Manchester to London Gatwick Flight Approaching London
11-30 a.m.
April 18th
Cobb wasn’t aware that the plane’s pilot had been informed of the presence of an armed criminal on the plane, but he guessed that as much would be said and that the cabin crew would also be informed and be told to act naturally.
Down at Gatwick armed police were gathering and a plan to evacuate the plane quickly had been formed.
Cobb sat on the plane for a full ten minutes contemplating the ticking clock and what he knew would be an armed reception at Gatwick and for this reason it should have been a nerve racking flight, full of anticipation and fear, but the nature of his work had instilled in him the ability to make the most of quiet moments; he could switch off from the surrounding or impending dangers, just as he could skirt around the moral issues of the deaths incurred or occurring as a result of his work. He dealt with dangers and fears when the moment came and not before.
It was twenty minutes into the flight that he had a plan. It was simple enough. He would wait until the plane had landed and go to the back emergency exit of the plane and whilst it was taxiing drop the emergency ‘slide’.
The Airbus A320 had the emergency exit at the back and he hadn’t too far to go to get to it. He made a short reconnaissance trip and looked over the door, after making sure that the cabin crew were busy elsewhere, and felt sure of his being able to do it. He thought carefully about his quite literally hitting the ground whilst the plane was still moving and he knew he must relax and parachute roll off the slide. He didn’t relish the thought, but escape across the airport, even in a state of high alert would be easier then than being trapped by entering the terminal.
Cobb settled down, ordered drinks from the well informed cabin crew, knowing that they would have been warned of his potential danger and he would be treated with kid gloves. The bourbon and ice in the plastic cup burned a warming passage through him and he felt anguished that he wouldn’t have the chance for a cigarette before the moment of potential danger came; the word terminal came to mind in both its meanings. He resolved to make sure that Gatwick wasn’t the termination of his journey in any respect. Paying was the way to get anything on the Easyjet flight and he handed over the exorbitant amount for yet another measure of Bourbon, purely medicinal purposes he felt; painkillers were going to be a must.