Matt Hilton: Blood and Ashes

I went on, ‘He worked as an analyst and profiler, Adrian.’

‘That sounds like something the FBI would do?’

I shook my head. ‘Not FBI. Don was recruited by a private firm. It was the equivalent of the modern-day risk assessment companies you hear about; those “think tanks” that work on behalf of the government.’

‘Are you telling me that Don was a spy?’ Adrian laughed out a single syllable that sounded like the bark of a dog. ‘You’re serious?’

‘Depends on your take on the word. He didn’t work in the field, if that’s what you mean. It was Don’s job to collect and analyse information, to identify and then track possible domestic terrorist and extremist groups. Sounds like a modern phenomenon, but even back in the eighties and early nineties radical extremist groups were a substantial threat to the stability of the nation. As the Cold War was ending, more immediate enemies were being identified on a regular basis. White supremacists, right-wing paramilitary groups, religious cults — you name it. Don was tasked with finding these people before they acted out their demented plans.’

‘And that’s how you got to know him?’

Looking down at the carpet as though all the bad memories of those times were hidden in a secret weave of the pattern, I decided that confession might be good for the soul.

‘I was on a team that brought these groups to task. Don was only one of many analysts who fed us the intelligence necessary to complete our missions.’

‘You were with our government?’

‘I was a soldier.’

‘But… you’re a Brit, aren’t you?’

‘My team was made up of specialists from a number of NATO countries.’

‘Specialists?’

My eyes strayed to the carpet again.

Adrian blinked in dismay. ‘Maybe I’m jumping to conclusions here, but are you telling me that you were an assassin?’

That snapped my chin up, my eyes going as cold as the underbelly of a glacier. ‘I was a soldier.’

‘Whose mission was to take down these extremists? Is there a difference?’

‘We didn’t kill them all.’

I watched as the man went through a range of emotions. Finally, Adrian nodded to himself as though he’d come to some conclusion.

‘Carswell Hicks.’

‘You’ve heard of Hicks?’ That surprised me.

‘Brook once mentioned that her father was involved in his capture. But I never gave it much thought. I assumed he was just one of many cops on the task force that brought him down.’

‘Don wasn’t a cop when Hicks was captured. But he was the person instrumental in capturing him. He compiled the file that was handed to the FBI and it was Don’s evidence that guaranteed Hicks received a death sentence for his crimes.’

‘Except Hicks never did get the lethal injection, did he?’

No, he never did. Human rights activists fought for Hicks and had his sentence commuted to life imprisonment in a high-security prison. I thought that of all the extremists Don identified Hicks was the most deserving of a bullet in the skull. Instead I said, ‘Last I heard he died while attempting to break out of jail. Some of his supporters staged an attack on the hospital wing he’d been moved to following an injury. During the getaway, Hicks and his colleagues supposedly perished when they crashed the medi-vac chopper they’d hijacked. But Don believes that he’s back and it’s Hicks who’s trying to destroy him by targeting his family.’

‘But how could that be possible?’

‘Don sent Hicks to prison. But there were others involved in his organisation. Maybe they’re finally looking for payback.’

‘Dear God…’

I nodded slowly.

‘Now you know who I am, and what the fuck I’m doing here. Do you still want me to leave?’

Millie’s arrival was announced by a spray of fragmented shells as she gunned the Lexus up the drive and then swung alongside my Audi with a screech of brakes. She clambered out of the car, ducked back inside and came out holding a bundle in her arms just as Adrian opened the door, with me at his shoulder.

Millie’s face was rigid with fear. No, that wasn’t quite right. Her face was set with anger, and it was directed only one way. Adrian stepped forward, but I pushed past him. As I moved quickly on to the drive my limp was forgotten, and my hand seemed in full working order from the way it dipped into my waistband and came out gripping the matt black SIG SAUER P226 that went everywhere with me. Holding the gun down by my thigh I stalked past Millie and partway along the drive, searching for anyone who might have followed her here. Behind me came the urgent words of Adrian and Millie, which sounded like both were casting bitter recriminations. They were joined seconds later by Don’s baritone. I tried to shut out their voices as I listened to the forest. All that came back was the rattle and hiss of the trees swaying in the breeze, and the drip of rain pattering on the ground. Dissatisfied, I completed a full circle while attuning to the natural rhythm of my surroundings.

No vehicle was moving along the road beyond the gates. I couldn’t discern the movement of bodies slinking through the woods. I caught no clink of metal or brush of a boot heel through the undergrowth, but still I wasn’t happy. I felt that they were here.

I could almost feel eyes upon me and it wasn’t a feeling I was about to dismiss. My biggest problem was that I couldn’t vector in on where the unknown watcher crouched. My gaze went back in the direction of the house and the knot of family members all converging in the driveway. Even the children had joined them, and the little ones were fussing over the bundle in Millie’s arms. Christ, I thought, she’s even brought the cat with her.

‘Everyone get inside.’ I began to hurry back to them. They were all bunched around Millie, asking questions in a rapid-fire manner and not one of them even glanced my way. ‘Now!’ I shouted. ‘Get inside the house!’

The family group all turned as one, gawping. Little Ryan even took a couple of hurried steps away, and it was only then that I realised I was gesturing with the barrel of my gun. I quickly lowered it so that it was hidden by my hip.

‘What is it?’ Don was moving in the wrong direction, towards me instead of the house.

They’re here. I wanted to shout out loud, but knew to do so would panic the children. Keeping calm, I went to the old man and gripped him by his elbow. ‘Get your family inside, Don.’

Don’s tightening features said it all. He grabbed at the children and pulled them to him, at the same time ushering Adrian and Millie towards the front door. He glanced back at me but I gave him no mind, once more turning my attention to the woods. I was in a semi-crouch, unconsciously offering a smaller target. Little good it would do against a man with a scope on a rifle, but it was as much a natural reaction as it was a product of my training.

‘What in God’s name is going on?’ Adrian was torn between pulling the children out of Don’s grasp and racing for cover. Neither won out, and he swerved round Don to demand answers.

‘Get back inside,’ I hissed at him.

Adrian had no idea of the danger he was in.

His first inkling would have been when the high-velocity round punched through his upper torso. His flesh and bones were no impediment to a steel-jacketed round, and the bullet only flattened when it hit a wheel of Don’s Lexus.

Adrian barely staggered.

Then he looked down, mouth hanging open in shock as he saw the hole in his shirt that had opened up like a blooming rose.

Very, very slowly he blinked.

Around me time and motion had slowed.

A guttural moan arose from Adrian.

It felt like I was wading through a bog. Adrian’s eyes widened perceptively as he registered the dismay on my face as I looked at the crater in his chest. His mouth moved but I could hear nothing but my own moan emanating from somewhere deep inside. Then I turned away and my hand came up as slowly as a feather in an up-draught.