Remote Control (33 page)
Authors: Andy McNab
I let the engine run and put the windscreen wipers and heater on full blast to clear the morning dew. I got hold of Kelly and the bag and threw them both in the back. ‘Lie down, Kelly, go to sleep.’ No argument from her on the lying down. She might have trouble sleeping, though. Perhaps for the rest of her life.
I drove to the road and turned left, nice and slow. After just a quarter of a mile I spotted flashing lights coming towards me. I got out my pistol and put it under my right thigh. There was no way I was going to let the fuckers take us.
I shouted back at Kelly, ‘Stay down, do not get up, do you understand?’
There was no reply.
‘Kelly?’
I got a weak ‘Yes.’
If I had to kill these policemen it would be unfortunate, but at the end of the day this was the sort of thing they got paid for. I made my plan. If they stopped me I’d wait until one or both came within range. The pistol was where my hand would naturally go and I’d draw down on them.
The flashing blue and red came closer. I just drove on towards them. My mindset was that I was a shift worker, on my way to earn my living. Now their lights were making me screw up my eyes so I could see beyond.
I wasn’t worried. I felt very calm. Just wait and see. They went past at over sixty m.p. H.
I looked in the rear-view mirror. They hit the brakes and now I was flapping. I watched and made distance at the same time. The brake lights went off. Either they’d just been slowing down or they’d changed their minds.
I needed to dump this car before first light, which was probably the earliest the owner would discover it missing. I also had to get both of us a change of clothes and into another hotel.
Kelly started yelling, ‘I want to go home! I want to go home! I want my—’
‘Kelly, we are going home! But not yet!’ I had to shout to cut in.
I couldn’t see her and tilted the mirror. She was curled up with her thumb in her mouth. My mind flashed back to the two other times I’d found her like that, and I said quietly, ‘We will, don’t worry.’
We were following a road that seemed to parallel the Potomac, on its west side. After about half an hour I found a 24-hour mart and parked up. There were maybe twenty or thirty vehicles outside; at that time of the morning most of them probably belonged to employees.
Kelly didn’t ask why we were stopping. I turned round and said, ‘I’m going to go and get us some more clothes. Do you want anything? Shall I see if they’ve got a deli and we’ll get some sandwiches?’
She whimpered, ‘Don’t go, don’t leave me!’ She looked as if she’d been slapped. Her face was bright red, with puffy eyes and wet hair stuck to her face. You don’t take a beaten-up seven-year-old with blood on her clothes into a supermarket at just after four in the morning.
I leaned over into the back, unzipped the bag and took out the coveralls. I said, ‘I’ve got to leave you here. I need somebody to look after everything.’ I pointed to the bag. ‘Can you do that for me? You’re a big girl now, a great spy.’
She nodded reluctantly.
I started to get the coveralls on while still sitting in the car seat.
‘Nick?’
‘What?’ I was busy fighting with a leg.
‘I heard a gun. Is that man dead?’
‘Which man is that?’ I didn’t want to turn round, didn’t want to face her. ‘No, he’s not. I think he made a mistake and thought we were someone else. He’ll be OK.’
I was now arching my back to get the top half on. ‘The police will take him to hospital.’
That was enough of that. I got out of the car quickly and poked my head back in. Before I even started to say the routine, she said, ‘You will come back, won’t you? I want to go home and see Mommy.’
‘Definitely, I will come back, no problems, and you will see Mummy soon.’
I turned the interior light on and moved the rear-view mirror so I could see my face. The deep cuts on my forehead and under my eye were still wet, the plasma trying hard to get a scab going. I spat on my hand and used the cuff of the coveralls to wipe the rest of the blood off, but there wasn’t much more I could do. Industrial accident.
I signalled to Kelly to lock the door and lie down. She nodded and complied.
I picked up a trolley and went through the electric swing gate. I got money from the ATM, then two sets of everything for Kelly and me, plus washing and shaving kit and a box of wipes, and some painkillers for my neck. It was hurting badly now. I could only look left or right by turning my whole body. I must have looked like a robot. I threw in some Coke, crisps and biscuits.
There weren’t many shoppers. My cuts drew the odd glance, but no stares.
I got back to the car and tapped on the window. Kelly looked up; the windows were now covered in condensation, and she had to wipe it with her sleeve. Through the circle she’d created I could see she’d been crying, and she was rubbing her eyes. I pointed at the lock and she opened it.
I was all big smiles. ‘Hiya! How’s it going?’
There wasn’t much of a reply. As I dumped the bags onto the passenger seat I said, ‘Look, I’ve got a present for you.’ I showed her a Dime bar. There was a reluctant smile. She took it and opened it.
I looked at the car clock. It was nearly five a.m. We started driving towards the Beltway, then headed west.
I saw the sign for Dulles International and slowed down for the off-ramp. We had to dump the car soon; I had to assume that its owner was an early riser.
Kelly was lying in the back, staring at the door. It seemed she was in a dream world. If not, she was damaged mentally by what she had seen. At the moment I didn’t really care which.
We were about eight miles from Dulles and I started to keep a lookout for hotels. I saw the sign for an Economy Inn. Absolutely perfect; but, first, we had to get ourselves cleaned up.
As we carried on towards the airport I could see the wing lights of what was probably the first of the day’s aircraft making its approach about four miles away. I followed the signs to the economy parking, having stopped just short to check for cameras at the entry point. There weren’t any; they must register on the way out. I took my ticket and parked up among thousands of other cars.
‘Kelly, we’re going to get you dressed in some new clothes,’ I said.
I showed her what I’d bought and, as she was getting undressed, I got out the baby wipes and cleaned her face. ‘Here, let’s get rid of all those tears. Here you are, here’s a brush.’ I brushed her hair – too quickly, and it hurt her. ‘OK, let’s get this sweatshirt on you. Here you go. There, you’re looking good. Here’s another wipe – blow your nose.’
While she was doing that I got myself changed as well and dumped all the clothes in the passenger footwell. Kelly was still looking miserable as the shuttle took us to the terminal.
27
We walked into the departures area. The terminal was busier than I’d been expecting for this time of the morning. People were checking in all along the lines of desks, mooching around in the shops, or sitting in the cafés reading newspapers.
I wasn’t saying much to Kelly, just holding her hand as I moved along, bag on my left shoulder, looking for the sign to arrivals, then to the taxi rank. An escalator showed me the way down. We were nearly at the bottom when Kelly announced, ‘I need the bathroom, Nick.’
‘You sure?’ I just wanted to get out of there.
‘Really, I need to go.’
‘OK.’ After the last time I’d learned my lesson.
I followed signs to the rest rooms. They were to the left, near the large exit doors from international arrivals. You went in through one of two large openings in the wall, and immediately came across a run of seven or eight disabled toilets, all unisex, and either side of this were the entrances to the single-sex toilets. I stayed outside in the main concourse, watching all the people who were waiting for the automatic doors to open and their loved ones to be disgorged.
You always know when you’re being stared at. I’d been standing there a minute or two when I became aware. I looked up. It was an old woman, standing against the rail facing me on the opposite side of the channel made by the barriers, obviously waiting for somebody to come through. There was a silver-haired man with her, but her eyes were fixed on my face.
She looked away, turning her back to the exit doors, even though people were streaming out with their trolleys. Every few seconds I heard a scream of joy as people were reunited. Then there were camera flashes.
What had she been looking at? The cuts on my face? I hoped it was just that. There was nothing I could do about it. I would have to bluff it out, but keep an eye on her all the same.
Then I saw her start talking to her husband. Her body language looked urgent and agitated; she wasn’t passing the time of day. He looked over in my direction, then back at her; he gave her a shrug that said, ‘What the hell are you talking about, woman?’ She must have seen Kelly and me going into the toilets and said to herself, ‘Now, why do I know those two?’
I wasn’t going to move. I wanted to see what she was doing. The moment she started to walk away, I’d have to take action.
I could tell she was still trying to work it out. I felt my heart pumping. I avoided eye contact, but I knew she was staring. Any minute now she’d remember the news report where she’d seen Kelly’s face.
The seconds ticked by. At last Kelly came out and stood by me. ‘Shall we go now?’ I said, grabbing her hand before she could answer.
As I turned with her for the exit I could clearly see the woman tugging her husband’s arm. However, he had now seen whoever it was they were meeting and was looking the other way.
She pulled his arm more urgently.
I wanted to run, but that would have just confirmed it for her. We walked and I talked crap to Kelly with the actions of a happy dad. ‘Look at those lights, aren’t they nice? This is the airport I fly into every time I come here. Have you been here before?’ Kelly didn’t have time to answer any of them.
I had to fight the urge to turn round and look. I started to think, What if? If I got the police onto me here, I was fucked. There was nowhere to go, just more of the airport, with more security than you could shake a nightstick at. My eyes were darting around. We had about 30 or 40 metres to go to the exit sign. With each step I expected to hear a cop shouting for me to freeze. All I could hear was the general hubbub and the occasional squeal of greeting.
We reached the exit, turned left and started walking downhill on a wide ramp that led to the pick-up points and taxi ranks. The moment we’d made that angle I started to move faster and chanced a look behind.
Kelly said, ‘What’s up?’
I said, ‘There’s the taxis, let’s go.’
We had to wait for three other people in the queue before it was our turn. I felt like a child who desperately wants something and cannot wait any longer.
Come on, come on!
Come on, come on!
At last we bundled into a cab and drove off, and I turned and looked behind me. Nothing. I still couldn’t relax. Kelly could obviously sense the drama but didn’t say another word.
I tried to block it out of my mind. Look hard enough and you’ll find a positive in even the worst situation – that was what I’d always told myself. But I couldn’t get a silver lining out of what had just happened. If the old woman did make the connection and told the police she had seen us heading for the taxi rank, it was negatives all the way.
I looked at Kelly and yawned. ‘I’m sleepy,’ I said, ‘what about you?’
She nodded and put her head in my lap.
I gave the driver directions. Once off the freeway we drove a few blocks, then I got him to pull in. I watched him drive away as we stood in the car park of the Marriott. We would walk to the Economy Inn from there.
‘We’re going to a hotel now,’ I said. ‘Usual story. I’ll be saying a lot of things that aren’t true, and all you’ve got to do is be quiet and look really tired, OK? If you do what you’re told and it works out, we can all go home.’ We walked towards the reception.
There was a young black guy on the desk, his head buried in a textbook. We went through all the same routine, only this time I’d been beaten up during the robbery. He looked embarrassed. ‘All of America’s not like this, you know. It’s beautiful.’ He started talking about the Grand Canyon; after making a promise that I’d make a point of visiting it this trip I turned and walked out.
We got to the room and I started helping her off with her coat. As she turned so that her other arm came away out of the sleeve, she questioned me without warning. ‘Are we going to see Mommy and Daddy now?’
‘Not yet, we’ve still got stuff to do.’
‘I want my mommy, Nick. I want to go home. You promised.’
‘We will go soon, don’t worry.’
‘Are you sure Mommy and Daddy and Aida will be there?’
‘Of course they will be.’
She didn’t look convinced. It was crunch time. I couldn’t carry this on any more. If we got out of this mess, I couldn’t bring myself to let her be dumped on her grandparents or whoever, and for her to find out what a lying bastard I’d been all this time.
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