Richard Wiseman - To Kill Or Be Killed

At that point David came out and was handed his shoes, bag with watch and money in, his pass and his Sig and holster. He was handed a third bag with Beaumont's Sig in it.

“David. I’m Monty Lawton. Glasgow branch.” They shook hands. “Jack Beaumont’s stable, shot through the lung. He had a tricky half hour, but he’s looking good for it right now. I’ve to take you over there.”

“Thanks. Did Wheeler die?”

“Yes he did.” Monty patted his shoulder. “It’s not easy killing a man, it was kill or be killed, plain and simple; it was you or him and he had shot your partner.” David nodded silently.

Lawton took David to the hospital from the police station. The room had been quiet and Beaumont was asleep, wearing a respirator over his face and wired up to a heart monitor. Yellow sunlight brightened the room through angled blinds and hospital noises were distantly muffled by the door. It was a cocoon of quiet, even the heart monitor was set to silent in the room. It crossed David’s mind that it could have been him. He felt a wave of guilt and shame flush through him. He should have taken his laptop. He should have checked his Sig before he left. He should have checked with Lawton by satellite phone. He felt that he had lost the edge he had started out with. He wondered if he had the capacity to do the work. Spencer’s death, the fear of Stanton at the station and a lack of sleep had eroded his mental and physical edge. If it happened once it could happen again. He watched Beaumont breathing for a while as a new father watches the baby and dare not look away for fear it may cease. Lawton gently called him away.

Once back at the hotel David showered and drank a cup of sweet tea. When he was dressed he stood behind Monty Lawton as he sought evidence of Stanton’s whereabouts.

David stood uneasily behind the chair at the desk in the Thistle Hotel. Lawton was logged on to Beaumont’s laptop and was checking the latest communiques. For David it was hard to focus on the screen as the uneaten slice of cake sat accusingly next to Beaumont’s laptop.

“Stanton has gone to ground, there’s no trace after the rail station. He’s either in a house nearby or has stolen a car. I’ve checked reported car thefts, but there’s nothing in my area. Stanton’s good. It makes you wonder just how good DIC are if we can’t track them fast enough to be there waiting for them.”

“Maybe it’s because they’re more used to this intensity and pace.” David said.

“It’s possible. The one that scares me is Mason. He completely disappeared shortly after entry, there’s only that footage at the industrial park and the stolen Alfa found in Glasgow, after that nothing. He must have disguised himself well.”

“That’s true enough, but we did pick them up at point of entry which is better than not at all.”

“True, true,” Lawton logged off. “You’d better call Jack and see what his instructions are. I’ll go and wait in the lobby, I’ll pay the bill.”

“I’d like to go to see my father. He lives in Motherwell, Sunflower Gardens.”

“Some coincidence that’s round the corner from me, I’ll drop you there and you can pop back round after your visit and we’ll sort out what Jack wants you to do.”

“Okay. Thanks Monty. It’s been quite a day and it’s not over.”

“Like I said killing someone isn’t easy.”

“Have you?”

“Yes. I was in the parachute regiment. I’m rare for DIC. I was recruited in the eighties after I came back from the Falklands. I don’t have a degree, but for some reason they head hunted me and here I am. Yes I’ve seen death. If action doesn’t leave an outer scar like the one Beaumont will have it leaves one on the inside. I’ll be in the lobby.”

David nodded. The door closed behind Monty and David sat heavily on the bed and held his phone.”

“David, are you well?” Jack asked.

“Yes, but I’m a little shaken and a bit overawed by events. I’m okay though.”

“Good. You did well…”

David interrupted.

“I made mistakes and I got Beaumont hurt.”

“You did well David. Firstly these men are trained killers, no mercy. You are not a trained killer. Secondly whatever you didn’t do right didn’t get you or Beaumont killed. Wally went casually and unarmed. His mistake got him killed. Thirdly these men are extremely dangerous especially as they don’t seem to want to be taken alive. I can’t imagine the price being paid for their services, but it must be high. No you did fine, but perhaps you had better come back to London, report in and go home. You’ve done enough. Consider your two week duty done.”

“Thanks Jack. I’m going to visit my father, he lives near Monty.”

“That’s a good idea, then home to that family of yours and just home monitoring for you. I’ll arrange counselling services to visit you at home for next week.”

“Thanks Jack.”

“There’ll be a Lear Jet at Glasgow Airport in one and a half hours. We’ll fly you in to Stansted.

“Thanks again Jack.”

“Good job David. I’ll see you for lunch in fact can I order you a sandwich?”

“Yes cheese and piccalilli.”

“Okay. See you then.”

David hung up. There’d been no hint from Jack that he thought McKie had failed, but David didn’t like the fact that he was being sent home before his two weeks were up. There was a crisis on and Jack had called in extra teams. He was sure that Jack had felt that he had failed. He packed up the gear, took both rucksacks and went down to the lobby where Monty was waiting. They climbed into the green Mondeo silently, Monty noting David’s sullen face. He was diplomatically silent for the first half of the journey.

They drove out of Glasgow and onto the M74. It wasn’t until the car cruised along the roads adjacent to the Clyde where bright green trees and flashes of light lancing off the water made for so peaceful and calm a scene that Monty felt disposed to break into David’s deep thoughts.

“What did Jack say?”

“He said there’ll be a jet for me in an hour and a half. I’ve to go home, to Dover, duty over.”

“That’s good. Have they arranged someone to talk to you?”

“It’s being done. Is that usual?”

“For DIC yes, they take any trauma seriously. Other firms or services might not.”

“I didn’t know.”

“You thought he was sending you home with a flea in your ear to be nannied by some psychotherapist?”

“It seemed like it.”

Monty laughed.

“What’s so funny?” David asked.

“Well…” Monty paused thinking “…everyone thinks it’s like the films. Blazing away with a gun, watching people die, all that blood and death and then at the end you kiss the girl and it’s alright. You’re not James Bond you know. In fact the man you killed today is more like James Bond. He was a hired killer. People like that are desensitized to death as all the bodies turning up demonstrate. When the army trains it’s to do three things. The first is follow orders, the second is work together and be loyal and the third is that they brutalise you so that being able to kill people is easier than it naturally feels. Thing is that afterwards it can eat into the brain; the mind gets fractured by trauma. I should know. I got help from DIC I wouldn’t have got it from the MoD.”

“I suppose that’s true. My father was in the Black Watch.”

“Was he now? How has he coped?”

“He’s not bad. He had a drink thing for a while after he was invalided out, but it cleared up when my mother died and he had to look after me.”

“You see his therapy was throwing himself into care. That would have brought out the human again. Jack is sending you home for your safety. You’ve done something that we’re taught is bad, you’ve killed. So you go home… got a family?”