Andy McNab - Zero hour

I pointed to the shower room.

She looked at me and shivered.

'Let's go.' I took her hand. She offered no resistance. She probably couldn't have even if she'd wanted to. She felt like she weighed less than the mallet.

I turned on the shower. The cubicle filled with steam. I pointed at the bottle of gel and mimed washing my hair. I showed her the towel, then closed the door and let her get on with it.

I filled the kettle and flicked it on.

I was tired, and pissed off with myself for breaking a life-time's rule. But there was no point beating myself up about it. Even if it hadn't been the right thing to do, she was here now. I had to deal with it. I threw a couple of Smarties down my neck with a cupful of cold water.

The kettle clicked off and I made myself a brew with plenty of milk and sugar. I dragged the sleeping bag and airbed out of Bradley's box. He hadn't lashed out on the electric-pump option. I didn't have the energy to inflate it; she'd have to, if she wanted a comfortable night.

I dug around in my day sack, stripped off and put on a dry sweatshirt. I threw my spare jeans onto the sleeping bag; hers were in shit state. I added a long-sleeved T-shirt, a clean pair of socks and some boxer shorts for good measure.

Brew in hand, I went into the mailroom. I checked the telltale and pulled out the folder. I wanted to show her Lilian's picture.

I sat near the sink with my back against the wall and checked my watch. After 02.00. Fuck, I hadn't even been here six hours and I was already in rag order.

I put my mug down and rested my head against my knees. The next thing I knew, I was woken by the sound of her coming out of the shower. I looked up. The towel was wrapped under her armpits. She caught sight of the sleeping bag and all the gear and very nearly smiled. Or maybe I was just kidding myself.

'Drink?' I pointed at the kettle and made a brew sign with my right hand.

She looked down at my mug, which was still half full. I took a sip. It had gone cold. I must have been out of it for at least half an hour. She raised a non-eyebrow.

'Yeah, I'll have one.'

She brushed past me as she leant down to collect my mug. She smelt of shampoo. Her knees cracked, and she still had chicken skin because of the cold.

I stood up and stretched while she got busy with the kettle. I wiped the dribble off my chin stubble and pointed at the gear. 'That is for you. Dry clothes.' I went through the motions of putting on jeans. 'Blow up the airbed.' I made a trumpet out of my hands and puffed through it. 'For you to sleep… All right?'

She passed me a steaming mug. The tea was black, with half a kilo of sugar. I fished out Slobo's Facebook picture and pointed.

'This girl. Her name is Lilian. Was she in the building? Have you seen her?'

I couldn't read her expression at all.

'Have you seen her? Lilian. Her – name – is – Lilian…'

She nodded.

'You have seen her? Today?'

All of sudden she was scared. I didn't blame her. It must have taken her back to the last place she ever wanted to be.

'You sure? Lilian – with you?'

She examined the picture more closely. Her brow furrowed, and she nodded again.

I dug about in Brad's goodie box for the packet of cheap biros. On the back of the picture, I sketched the internal layout of the silo complex, based on what I'd seen and Anna had told me. I traced a line into the main entrance and then right, into the first room. 'Lilian – is she in there? In there with you?'

She took her time before giving me another nod. I don't think she needed to think. It was more that she didn't know what the fuck was going to happen to her next.

'The guards? The bad guys?'

I treated her to my cartoon gorilla impression, complete with the hands-under-the-armpits thing. It didn't even get a flicker of a smile.

'The guards, there are four?' I held up my fingers. 'Four?'

She didn't answer. She burst into tears.

'It's OK. No one will hurt you now. It's OK…'

I went back to my wall, slid down it and took short sips of brew. I didn't want to crowd her. She calmed herself down, got dressed and started blowing up the airbed.

She avoided eye contact. I didn't know for sure what she was thinking, but I could guess.

I finished my brew and went back into the mailroom for the BlackBerry. I sparked it up as I returned to the loading bay. I didn't yet know whether the girl could speak, but I knew that she could hear.

The ringing tone went on for longer than before.

'I've found her.'

'Excellent.'

'I don't have much darkness left but I'll get back there now and try to lift her anyway.'

Tresillian did his usual party trick. 'No, you will not, Mr Stone.'

Not even a 'well done' this time.

'But it has to be tonight.'

There was an uneasy silence at the other end of the line.

'We have a… complication… Once you have lifted the girl I want the building and anyone inside it destroyed. No one who has had contact with Lilian must get away.'

'Destroyed?'

'I want an explosion. I want a spectacular. I want to see it on News at fucking Ten. Do I make myself clear?'

'You want me to blow up a building in a major European city?'

'Is there an echo on this line?'

I fantasized for a moment about blowing up the silo with Tresillian inside it. 'No, there is not.'

'Very good.'

'But first I need you to attend to another matter. It appears we have a little competition. Stand by, Mr Stone. But don't move a muscle. Your contact will explain.'

The line went dead.

By the time I got back upstairs, the girl was tucked up in the sleeping bag with her hands wrapped around her mug. She looked me in the eye, and I finally got the slightest of smiles.

I sat back down against the wall and rested my head on my knees once more.

Thursday, 18 March 06.27 hrs I woke up face down on the carpet. The sleeping bag was draped over me. I opened my eyes to see a pair of bare feet peeping out from under my rolled-up jeans. She leant over me, her hair frizzed almost into an Afro after sleeping on it wet. She had a brew in her hand. Her expression softened as she put the mug down beside me.

I tried to focus on my watch. At least I'd got a couple of hours in. I looked up at her groggily. 'You OK?'

She didn't reply. She looked even more like a waif with my clothes hanging off her.

I sat up, stiff and sore from sleeping on the floor, but I'd got used to that over the years. It's just a matter of how you position your head and shoulders and spread your legs to distribute the weight.

I tore a blank strip off the bottom of the A4 sheet that held Lilian's picture, grabbed one of the biros and wrote down an address.

I took a sip of the extra-sweet black tea and gave her a grin. Didn't they have any fucking cows east of Poland?

She retrieved her brew from the sink and went and sat on the airbed. Her knees came up to her chest. Her arms went round them. Her face was expressionless once more.

I had to get this thing moving. Bradley would be here at ten. By then I needed to have dealt with her, sorted myself out, and worked out exactly what I wanted him to do for me to get this job done.

As soon as we'd finished our brews, I pulled myself to my feet. 'Come on, let's go.'

I draped my bomber round her shoulders and coaxed her up. I took her hand and, gently but firmly, steered her to the door.

At last there was a reaction. Her eyes were like saucers. She was scared.

I opened the door for her and shooed her out. I let her go downstairs in front of me so I could check the telltales.

She stood shivering on the pavement in her bare feet while I locked up. I didn't replace the telltales in the door. I wasn't going to be long, and the less time I was exposed with her on the street, the better.