Contracts, Matt Rogers [phonics reading books TXT] 📗

knew, and the leeching ache in his muscles would override it.

He rolled over in the snow drift and aimed up at the windows of the building on stilts, slotting a fresh magazine home. It felt like he was moving through quicksand. The windows were fogged up, and he couldn’t see a thing inside.

Then one of them blew out as a bullet shattered it from within. But any contact with a bullet in flight alters its trajectory, even slightly, so the insurgent firing through the window missed his target. The snow right near Slater’s head exploded, and the thwack of the impact came a millisecond later, but as soon as he realised he wasn’t dead he returned with three rounds through the window frame.

And he struck something, because crimson droplets splattered the grimy windows on either side of the gaping hole.

Slater rolled over, got to his feet, and half-limped, half-walked to the motionless chopper.

‘Get the fuck down,’ a voice with a British accent hissed. ‘Are you out of your mind?’

Slater didn’t respond, or even search for the source. He was in a trance, but he still had an objective.

Find cover.

He circled around the nose of the chopper and took refuge behind its chassis.

A thirty-something man in decent shape seized him by the collar.

‘Are you fucking crazy?!’ he hissed. ‘Now they’ll shoot it to pieces.’

‘Who are you?’ Slater mumbled.

‘What does it matter? You just got us killed, you moron.’

Slater could barely think.

A bullet thudded into the chassis on the other side of the chopper.

‘What’s your name?’ he said.

‘Drew.’

His accent was British.

‘Nice to meet you, Drew,’ Slater said. ‘Can you fly this thing?’

‘I’m the pilot.’

‘I’ll take that as a yes.’ Slater looked to the heavens. ‘Maybe miracles do happen.’

‘Have you lost your fucking mind? You look like you’ve just rolled out of bed.’

Eyes half-closed, Slater mumbled, ‘I feel like it, too.’

‘Where’d you get that gun?’

‘It’s mine,’ Slater said. ‘Get your own.’

‘Are you really making jokes right now?’

‘I think I’m delirious, Drew.’

‘No shit.’

‘How about we get the fuck out of here?’

‘I got called here to airlift an African-American man to a lower altitude,’ Drew said. ‘That wouldn’t happen to be you, would it?’

Slater scrunched up his face. ‘Who the hell called that in?’

‘The owner of the teahouse you’re staying in, you moron.’

Slater felt like he was on the verge of death, but he still managed a smile.

You are a good man, Slater thought. Better than I deserve.

He said, ‘I’m your man, Drew.’

He dropped to a prone position in the snow, aimed underneath the body of the chopper, found a sliver of space available to aim at the windows of the building up the hill, and fired several rounds through the open frame.

More blood sprayed against the windows.

‘Now,’ Slater said.

Drew lurched forward and threw the cockpit door open.

70

King turned to Perry and said, ‘I’ll be honest. I thought it was you all along.’

‘Obviously,’ Perry said, his features forlorn. ‘That’s what they were going for.’

‘You knew?’

‘I knew what they were painting me as. I knew why they were stringing me along when I wasn’t worth shit. I was the scapegoat if it all went to hell. And it did. They felt the need to come all the way up here to lure you out of your comfort zone, so that says it all.’

‘Yeah, well, I didn’t help much…’

King trailed off. He thought about looking at Raya, but decided not to. He’d faked the first wave of emotion, but now the threats were neutralised he had more time to process what had happened.

And they were still very far from safety.

Perry said, ‘They were going to kill her anyway.’

King looked up. ‘They were never going to negotiate?’

‘You and your partner killed dozens of his men. I saw him deteriorating before my eyes. He was losing his shit. That first video — it was his knee-jerk response to the chaos. He thought if he made himself look like a prisoner he’d cause confusion, but it achieved nothing. He was flying off the rails with each failed attempt on your lives. I watched him smash his face into the corner of a table to give himself that eye injury. He was doing anything he thought might work.’

‘If his goal was to kill Raya, then he succeeded.’

‘It wasn’t. He knew you and your friend were dangerous as hell, and he knew if he killed her he’d lose his only chance to manipulate you. His only fucking concern was the laptop.’

‘What happened?’

‘I knew what was on it. That first night … they put a gun to my head and strangled Winston in front of me and made me watch. Then they tied me up and carried me over their shoulders out of the teahouse. But I saw them take the laptop, and I freaked. Because that compromises everything. They didn’t notice at the time. But then Mukta started playing around with it the next night in front of me and I couldn’t help it. I went pale. Tried to act like nothing was wrong, but I’m a terrible actor. I can’t keep it together when I’m under duress.’

‘Great qualities for a—’

‘I know,’ Perry hissed. ‘Let’s not conduct a performance review up here, okay? I have my strengths and my weaknesses. Like we all do.’

Then Perry looked around.

‘Except you, apparently.’

King looked at Raya.

‘We all have weaknesses,’ he said. ‘We all come up short.’

Perry looked from King to Raya. ‘You do this for a living, huh?’

‘Yeah.’

‘Does it affect you?’

King glanced at Perry, and the man noticed the hurt in his eyes.

King said, ‘How could it not?’

Perry said, ‘You’re a warrior, man. A true warrior.’

‘We’re in the same field.’

Perry put his hands behind his head and gazed into space. There was a myriad of emotion in his eyes. He said, ‘Yeah, but I’m up the shallow end with floaties on. You’re way in the deep.’

‘Let’s get ourselves out of the deep,’ King said. ‘Ready for a hike down?’

Perry went pale, and gave his head a slight shake. ‘We’re screwed, man.’

‘Why?’

‘That was the plan all