Desmond Bagley - Running Blind / The Freedom Trap

Elin put the pad on the wound and strapped it down with tape while I took his pulse again. It was a little weaker than it had been.

‘Do you know who he is?’ asked Elin, sitting back on her heels.

‘Yes,’ I said matter-of-factly. ‘He said his name is Graham. He’s a member of the Department working with Slade.’ I picked up the sgian dubh and began to clean it. ‘Right now I’d like to know if he came alone or if he has any pals around here. We’re sitting ducks.’

I got up and walked back into the trees and hunted about for Graham’s rifle. I found it and took it back to the Land-Rover; it was a Remington pump action carbine chambered for .30/06 ammunition – a good gun for a murderer. The barrel not too long to get in the way, the fire rapid – five aimed shots in five seconds – and a weight and velocity of slug enough to stop a man dead in his tracks. I operated the action and caught the round that jumped out. It was the ordinary soft-nosed hunting type, designed to spread on impact. Elin had been lucky.

She was bending over Graham wiping his brow. ‘He’s coming round.’

Graham’s eyes flickered and opened and he saw me standing over him with the carbine in my hands. He tried to get up but a spasm of pain hit him and the sweat started out on his brow. ‘You’re not in a position to do much,’ I said. ‘You have a hole in your gut.’

He sagged back and moistened his lips. ‘Slade said … ’ He fought for breath. ‘… said you weren’t dangerous.’

‘Did he, now? He was wrong, wasn’t he?’ I held up the carbine. ‘If you’d come empty-handed without this you wouldn’t be lying where you are now. What was supposed to be the idea?’

‘Slade wanted the package,’ he whispered.

‘So? But the opposition have it. The Russians – I suppose they are Russians?’

Graham nodded weakly. ‘But they didn’t get it. That’s why Slade sent me in here. He said you were playing a double game. He said you weren’t straight.’

I frowned. ‘Now, that’s interesting,’ I said, and sat on my heels next to him with the carbine across my knees. ‘Tell me this, Graham – who told Slade the Russians hadn’t got it? I didn’t tell them, that’s for sure. I suppose the Russkies obligingly told him they’d been fooled.’

A look of puzzlement came over his face. ‘I don’t know how he knew. He just told me to come and get it.’

I lifted the carbine. ‘And he gave you this. I suppose I was to be liquidated.’ I glanced at Elin, and then back at Graham. ‘And what about Elin here? What was to happen to her?’

Graham closed his eyes. ‘I didn’t know she was here.’

‘Maybe not,’ I said. ‘But Slade did. How the hell do you think that Land-Rover got here?’ Graham’s eyelids flickered. ‘You know damned well you’d have to kill any witnesses.’

A trickle of blood crept from the corner of his mouth. ‘You lousy bastard!’ I said. ‘If I thought you knew what you were doing I’d kill you now. So Slade told you I’d reneged and you took his word for it – you took the gun he gave you and followed his orders. Ever hear of a man called Birkby?’

Graham opened his eyes. ‘No.’

‘Before your time,’ I said. ‘It just happens that Slade has played that trick before. But never mind that now. Did you come alone?’

Graham closed his mouth tightly and a stubborn look came over his face. ‘Don’t be a hero,’ I advised. ‘I can get it out of you easily enough. How would you like me to stomp on your belly right now?’ I heard Elin gasp, but ignored her. ‘You have a bad gut wound, and you’re liable to die unless we can get you to a hospital. And I can’t do that if someone is going to take a crack at us as we leave Asbyrgi. I’m not going to put Elin into risk just for the sake of your hide.’

He looked beyond me to Elin, and then nodded. ‘Slade,’ he said. ‘He’s here … about a mile …’

‘At the entrance to Asbyrgi?’

‘Yes,’ he said, and closed his eyes again. I took his pulse and found it very much fainter. I turned to Elin. ‘Start to load; leave enough room for Graham to lie in the back on top of the sleeping bags.’ I stood up and checked the load in the carbine.

‘What are you going to do?’

‘Maybe I can get close enough to Slade to talk to him,’ I said. ‘To tell him his boy is badly hurt. Maybe I won’t – in that case I’ll talk to him with this.’ I held up the carbine.

She whitened. ‘You’ll kill him?’

‘Christ, I don’t know!’ I said exasperatedly. ‘All I know is that apparently he doesn’t mind if I’m killed – and you, too. He’s sitting at the entrance to Asbyrgi like a bloody cork in a bottle and this is the only corkscrew I’ve got.’

Graham moaned a little and opened his eyes. I bent down. ‘How are you feeling?’

‘Bad.’ The trickle of blood at the corner of his mouth had increased to a rivulet which ran down his neck. ‘It’s funny,’ he whispered. ‘How did Slade know?’

I said, ‘What’s in the package?’

‘Don’t … know.’

‘Who is bossing the Department these days?’

His breath wheezed. ‘Ta … Taggart.’

If anyone could pull Slade off my back it would be Taggart. I said, ‘All right; I’ll go and see Slade. We’ll have you out of here in no time.’

‘Slade said … ’ Graham paused and began again. He seemed to have difficulty in swallowing and he coughed a little, bringing bright red bubbles foaming to his lips. ‘Slade said …’

The coughing increased and there was sudden gush of red arterial blood from his mouth and his head fell sideways. I put my hand to his wrist and knew that Graham would never tell me what more Slade had said because he was dead. I closed his staring eyes, and stood up. ‘I’d better talk to Slade.’

‘He’s dead!’ said Elin in a shocked whisper.

Graham was dead – a pawn suddenly swept from the board. He had died because he followed orders blindly, just as I had done in Sweden; he had died because he didn’t really understand what he was doing. Slade had told him to do something and he had tried and failed and come to his death. I didn’t really understand what I was doing, either, so I’d better not fail in anything I attempted.

Elin was crying. The big tears welled from her eyes and trickled down her cheeks. She didn’t sob but just stood there crying silently and looking down at the body of Graham. I said harshly, ‘Don’t cry for him – he was going to kill you. You heard him.’

When she spoke it was without a tremor, but still the tears came. ‘I’m not crying for Graham,’ she said desolately. ‘I’m crying for you. Someone must.’

We struck camp quickly and loaded everything into the Land-Rover, and everything included the body of Graham. ‘We can’t leave him here,’ I said. ‘Someone will be sure to stumble across him soon – certainly within the week. To quote the Bard, we lug the guts into the neighbour room.’

A wan smile crossed Elin’s face as she caught the allusion. ‘Where?’

‘Dettifoss,’ I said. ‘Or maybe Selfoss.’ To go over a couple of waterfalls, one the most powerful in Europe, would batter the body beyond recognition and, with luck, disguise the fact that Graham had been stabbed. He would be a lone tourist who had had an accident.

So we put the body in the back of the Land-Rover. I picked up the Remington carbine, and said, ‘Give me half an hour, then come along as fast as you can.’

‘I can’t move fast if I have to be quiet,’ she objected.

‘Quietness won’t matter – just belt towards the entrance as fast as you can, and use the headlights. Then slow down a bit so I can hop aboard.’