Contracts, Matt Rogers [phonics reading books TXT] 📗

‘No shit.’

‘I’ll help you switch rooms tomorrow morning,’ King said. ‘The owner knows we’re in 105. That’ll delay them, at least.’

‘Not for long.’

‘You can play hide and seek for eight hours,’ King said. ‘It’s possible.’

‘And if I’m caught?’

‘Then shoot them.’

Slater raised his arms in disbelief — it took all the effort he could muster. He said, ‘What can I honestly do like this?’

King said, ‘You need to do this for me. It’s our only chance to pull this off.’

‘Your only chance.’

‘We operated alone for the majority of our careers,’ King said. ‘It can’t be that hard to do it again.’

‘For you, maybe. In case you didn’t notice, I can’t move.’

‘We’re going around in circles,’ King said. ‘Sit in bed, point your gun at the door, and don’t move until I get back.’

Slater lay still.

King said, ‘I need sleep.’

‘Go for it.’

King rolled over, nestled into his sleeping bag, and fell quiet.

In the darkness, Slater muttered, ‘And what if you don’t come back?’

62

Morning arrived unceremoniously.

There hadn’t been a peep of hostility overnight. King woke up at four in the morning as his alarm went off, and within seconds he was fully alert. He sat up and rubbed his ankle — the swelling had reduced. He didn’t know whether to take that as a positive or not.

In all likelihood, it would only mean he’d arrive at death’s door faster.

There was no natural light coming in through the windows. The landscape outside was dark and silent. Most trekkers rose at five a.m. to get the ascent started — King was up and moving well before they’d stirred from their slumber.

He dressed in fresh hiking gear, double-checked that his P320 had a full clip, and inserted the magazine back into the weapon. Then he gave himself the once-over.

This is it, he thought.

When he turned around, Slater was wide awake, watching him.

King said, ‘Are you any better?’

‘No.’

‘Let’s get you up. I’ll find you an empty room.’

‘Don’t bother,’ Slater said. ‘It’s pointless.’

‘Why?’

‘Didn’t you see the rooms when we arrived yesterday? The empty ones are bolted shut. You’d need to rob the owner at gunpoint, and then he’d know which key he was giving you anyway. It’s futile.’

King thought about it. ‘I could put you in the—’

‘Anywhere else you put me inflates the risk of civilian casualties,’ Slater interrupted. ‘That’s not what we came here to do.’

King chewed his bottom lip in consideration, but he was exhausted. He had few alternatives to offer. He knew he wasn’t at the same level as Slater, but their mammoth journey had fatigued him all the same. His body was weary, his mind was considerably dull, and he couldn’t think of a better idea.

He said, ‘You sure?’

‘No. But I doubt you’re sure about hiking up Gokyo Ri either. This was never going to be ideal for either of us.’

King said, ‘This better not be the last time I see you.’

‘Don’t worry about me. You said it yourself — all I’ve got to do is point my gun at the door. Your part’s a little trickier.’

‘So if this is the last time we see each other…?’

‘Then that’s the job.’

King nodded. ‘That’s the job.’

‘Go get it done.’

‘I need you in somewhat decent condition if I make it back with Raya.’

‘“If?” You will.’

‘Maybe.’

‘When have you failed?’

‘Plenty of times.’

‘But when has it killed you?’

‘There’s a first time for everything.’

Neither of them knew what to say. One thing was for sure — they hadn’t anticipated this level of suffering. They thought they’d known exhaustion, until true exhaustion hit them in the face. King shrugged off his own worries and anxieties and managed a nod of farewell.

There was nothing left to say. They each knew what they had to do. It wouldn’t be easy for either of them. King had an uneasy suspicion that the insurgents would come for Slater as soon as he was spotted on his own at the base of Gokyo Ri. Wipe out one of the American operatives, and force the other into negotiations.

All the better if they got him alive, too.

More bargaining power.

King stepped out of room 105 and made his way outside. The stars were incredible, a glittering canopy that gave the landscape a touch of silvery illumination. He saw the vast mass of Gokyo Ri literally dwarfing the village, and checked he had all the supplies he needed in the rucksack slung over one shoulder — a full water bottle, anti-flash glasses, and four spare magazines for the Sig Sauer. The P320 was at his waist, ready for instant use.

Other than that, it was up to the three pounds of grey matter between his ears to get the job done.

Which is what it always came down to. Thankfully, he’d been honing his brain for most of his life.

So he got started. He used a manmade path of rocks to traverse a glacial stream, and then it was a long flat slog to the base of Gokyo Ri. He reached the foot of the climb, took one deep breath to steel himself for what was to come, and hardened his mind as he took the first step.

Then he began to ascend.

It proved monotonous enough. It was steeper than anything he and Slater had covered so far in Nepal, and the storm from the previous day had left a thin coating of snow over the trail, leading to a muddy, sloshy journey, but he managed well enough. He wasn’t so much concentrating on the climb as he was on what he’d find when he reached the top. It wasn’t difficult to keep his pace consistent and his breathing measured, and all he had to focus on was making sure not to burn himself out before he reached the peak.

He quickly realised it would be a long, gruelling climb.

He had five hundred metres to ascend vertically. Nearly a quarter of the way through the climb, blue daylight crept into the edges of the surrounding mountain ranges, giving him a better view of what was underfoot. He’d slipped a couple of