‘What else have you got?’
‘Nothing. I’m not a crime scene investigator. This isn’t Sherlock Holmes. Wouldn’t have a clue about anything else. I just know that Victor didn’t kill this man. I know close-range combat.’ He stood up fully and glanced at Beth, aware that she wouldn’t like what came next.
He said, ‘Which means I’m going to Afgooye.’
24
Sure enough, Beth’s face twisted into a scowl. ‘No.’
‘Last time I checked, I don’t need your approval.’
‘That’s what this is?’ she said. ‘Approval? I’m talking common fucking sense.’
‘This is the last chance I’ll get to find him.’
‘Like you said in the car — it’s not your responsibility. This is out of our hands. We report everything that happened and you carry on doing whatever it is you do.’
King pointed at the corpses. ‘This is what I do. Whether you like it or not. I show up and I apply brute force to things. It’s worked for me so far. I’m not about to stop doing it, just because you disapprove.’
She seemed genuinely taken aback. ‘When did I—?’
‘Beth,’ he said, gripping her by the shoulder. ‘This is the only reason I exist in my current role. So I have the option to abandon everything and chase a psychopath across Somalia. That’s what I do. It wasn’t what I expected to happen when I landed, but in all honesty I wasn’t happy with what I was doing here in the first place. I’m not experienced enough to sort out the politics of it all. But I can hunt a man down. No problem. That’s my bread and butter.’
She shook her head. ‘I won’t stop you. But you’re an idiot if you think it’ll go your way. Reed’s played you this much already. Who’s to say he doesn’t have a hired army waiting for you to come wandering into Afgooye?’
‘I hope he does.’
‘Cut the shit. Doesn’t matter how fast you are, there comes a point where you’ll get outnumbered.’
King shrugged. ‘Doesn’t bother me. I think I can do it, so I’ll go for it. My job allows me that. And there’s no chance anyone finds Reed if I don’t go right now. He’ll be in another country or on a boat within twenty-four hours.’
‘He’s an hour ahead,’ Beth said. ‘I think that’s too much.’
‘What else am I going to do — wait around here?’
‘These peacekeepers need guarding.’
‘And that’s your job. You safeguard them until we get more soldiers in-country. I’ll do my job.’
‘What is your job, exactly?’
King paused. ‘Can’t really put it into words. But it lets me decide what the right course of action is.’
‘I’m telling you you’re not making the right decision. We were too late on this one. Let it go.’
King brushed past her, heading for the lodge. ‘Not my style.’
She hurried to keep up with him, huffing in unrest. ‘So what do you expect me to do?’
‘Exactly what you would have done if I’d never showed up.’
‘If you hadn’t showed up, everyone might still be alive.’
He frowned, recognising that she was letting her frustrations out but disgruntled all the same. ‘Reed was going through with this regardless. I don’t fit into the picture.’
‘Which is why you should leave.’
‘No, it’s why I should go after him. Because he wasn’t expecting someone like me to show up. I doubt he planned accordingly. I can take advantage of that.’
‘Suit yourself,’ she said.
She was done protesting. King stepped up onto the terrace of the lodge and barged straight through into the communal area, meeting the gazes of eight frightened peacekeepers. The five men and three women had almost certainly become desensitised to violence if they had been operating in Mogadishu for quite some time. Death occurred as frequently as the sun rising each morning.
But when the bodies appeared within their own ranks, within the walls of the compound itself, he imagined it would rattle them for quite some time. They appeared shell-shocked, like their heads would be next on the chopping block.
‘I don’t know how many of you understand me,’ he said to the room. ‘But the threat isn’t around anymore. You don’t have anything to worry about — it won’t be a recurring problem. I’m leaving now to deal with it. You should all stay focused on what you’re here to do.’
He didn’t consider himself adept at public speaking, but he found himself quietly impressed with the spiel. Satisfied, he hurried straight through into the Force Recon Marines’ quarters, allowing Beth to trail in his wake. When he’d found a smaller communal space reserved for the U.S. military and stepped through into a tiny cube of a room with a similar outfit to the main area, Beth followed him through in a hurry.
‘What are you doing?’ she demanded.
‘I need a gun. And your jeep.’
‘Of course you do.’
‘This,’ he said, raising the M45 into view, ‘isn’t going to cut it. I need something else. Something bigger.’
‘There’s a couple of assault rifles,’ she said. ‘They delivered them to us in case shit hits the fan.’
‘Who did?’
‘An identical cargo plane to the one that brought you in. They were originally Delta Force weapons, I think. Last minute change of destination — that sort of thing.’
He crossed to the piece of furniture she had gestured to — an enormous wood-panelled storage container, its contents masked from plain view. He unhinged the latch and lifted the lid clear, revealing a trio of polished Heckler & Koch HK416 rifles. Despite everything, he managed a wry smile. He knew the weapons intimately.
‘Perfect,’ he said. ‘This will do.’
‘What — all of them?’
‘No,’ he said, lifting a single rifle out of the container. ‘I’m not Sylvester Stallone — as much as I’d like to be. I only need one bullet, anyway.’
‘What if he has friends?’
‘Reed?’
Beth nodded.
‘You don’t make friends in Somalia.’
‘Maybe he did. Psychopath like him — there’s plenty of opportunities out there.’
‘That’s business. If he’s somehow infiltrated the smuggling route and managed to conspire with people to scrape profits off the top — that’s not having friends. They won’t care if he lives or dies.’
‘They might. If it means losing money.’
‘You think that’s what this is about?’ King said. ‘Money?’
‘Isn’t it always? What other motivation would he have?’
King instinctively glanced in the direction of the front door, seeing straight through the building, remembering the brutalised corpses of the two Force Recon Marines who dared to get in Reed’s way. ‘Whatever it is, it’s a damn good one.’
He fished through the bottom of the storage container and stuffed a few spare magazines into pockets in his faded cargo pants. ‘This will do.’
‘You’re the least prepared elite operative I’ve ever seen,’ she said.
He looked at her. ‘You’ve seen many?’
She shook her head.
For no other reason than the fact that it felt natural, he leant forward and kissed her hard, taking the chance to experience a brief reprieve from the madness of the past twelve hours. He had barely been in-country for half a day, and already the situation had dive-bombed south.
He started to think he was a bad luck charm.
She didn’t resist. Instead she kissed back, probing ravenously with her tongue. King hesitated as she stepped forward and pressed her chest against his, gyrating, lost in the heat of the moment.
After a few seconds, he pulled away. ‘There’s no time. Sorry. Trust me, I wish there was.’
She stood there awkwardly, biting her lip as her cheeks flushed red. ‘I’m sorry too. That probably wasn’t the right thing to do.’