Ryan, Chris - Zero 22

Everything happened in an instant. Bethany released a single round. It slammed into the General’s skull. The General slumped heavily on to his laptop as a spatter of blood and scorched hair spat from the entry wound. Danny reached for his own weapon, but he saw in the mirror that Bethany had immediately turned her Glock on him, and he half expected to hear the shot that would kill him.

Instead he heard her voice. ‘Hands up, Danny. Let’s not make a mistake.’

He raised his hands.

The General’s laptop was quietly beeping due to his face pressing down on the keys. Blood seeped from the wound. It dripped down the side of his head and on to the desk. Danny watched Bethany in the mirror. She was completely in control. Her arm didn’t shake. Her expression didn’t change. She spoke calmly. ‘Here’s what’s going to happen,’ she said. ‘You’re going to very slowly take your firearm and place it on the table. Then you’re going to put your hands on the back of your head, and you’re going to walk over to the window. You do anything else, any sudden movements, you get what the General got. Understood?’

‘Bethany—’

‘ Understood? ’

Danny didn’t reply. He considered his options. Could he draw his weapon, turn and fire on Bethany before she had a chance to shoot? No way. Could he dive out of the way and hope to get the better of her in the confusion? Perhaps, but he wouldn’t bet his life on it. And that was exactly what he’d have to do. Bet his life. He had no option but to do as he was told.

Very slowly he lowered his hands, removed his weapon and placed it on the table. The computer stopped beeping. Maybe the General’s blood had seeped into the mechanism. He walked over to the window. Bethany kept the Glock trained directly at him. ‘You think I’m stupid?’ she said as he moved.

‘You know I don’t think that,’ Danny said.

‘Then why do you behave like it?’

‘I don’t know what you mean?’ He glanced over at the General’s body. ‘Why did you do that?’

‘That’s my job, isn’t it? That’s why I’m here. Oh no, plans have changed, haven’t they? You don’t need the crazy psycho-bitch to do your dirty work for you any more. So why am I here, Danny? What possible reason could your people have for sending me into the US with you and –’ she inclined her head distastefully in the direction of the dead general – ‘ him ?’

Danny said nothing. He could feel his heart beating. He cursed himself silently. For leaving the dead man’s Glock in his belt where Bethany could swipe it. For taking his eye off her at the critical moment. And for underestimating her. For failing to realise that she would work out the real reason she had been told to accompany him on this part of the mission.

‘When were you going to do it, Danny?’ she whispered. ‘When you’d finished saving the world? Put a bullet in the head of the stupid woman, then have a good laugh about it with your new friend the General?’

‘You’ve got it wrong,’ Danny said. ‘Put the pistol down. We need to get out of here. Someone will have heard the gunshot. They’ll have called the police.’

‘Shut up,’ she hissed. ‘Don’t patronise me.’ She edged towards the laptop. She released one of her hands and pulled the memory stick from the side of the computer. Put it in her pocket.

‘What are you doing?’ Danny said.

‘What does it look like?’

‘It looks like you’re taking the evidence. Bethany, there’s going to be a hit. You know that. We can stop it . . .’

‘I’m not taking evidence,’ Bethany said. ‘I’m ensuring my son continues to have a mother. Your people want this footage, they’ll need to deliver my son and guarantee our safety.’

‘Bethany—’

‘Don’t insult me!’ she snapped. ‘Don’t tell me you had no plans to kill me when this was over. Don’t tell me that’s not what they told you to do. I know how they work. I know how you work.’

She moved her free hand back up to the weapon. Danny judged the distance between them. Five metres. An unskilled shooter could easily miss at that range, but he knew she’d had weapons training. She was likely to hit him.

‘You’re wrong. We can sort this . . .’

‘You think I’m mad?’ she said.

Danny shook his head.

‘I’ll tell you what madness is,’ she continued. ‘Madness is performing the same action and expecting a different result. I let you go once before, and you turned up again like a bad penny. I’m not crazy, so I won’t be doing that again.’

‘Put the gun down, Bethany . . .’ Danny started to say, but he knew there was no point. He could tell when somebody had made the decision to kill. There was a unique flatness in the eyes. She was going to do it. ‘ Bethany, I can sort things for you . . . ’

‘ Don’t lie to me! ’

‘If you shoot me now,’ Danny said, ‘you make it harder to see your son again, not easier. I can make it happen, Bethany. You know I can.’

There was, for the briefest instant, a flicker of doubt. She glanced at the General, then bit her lower lip, as though pondering whether she’d made a mistake. But she didn’t lower the weapon. Her hands didn’t tremble. And when she looked back at Danny, he sensed that her determination had doubled.

He felt a sickening ball of heat in his stomach. She looked like she was going to do it.

Somewhere outside the building there was the sound of a police siren.

Bethany’s lip curled contemptuously, but she glanced sidelong, clearly registering the siren.

‘Sounds like someone’s already phoned in the sound of gunshot, Bethany,’ Danny said carefully. ‘The police are on their way and chances are they’ll be putting in a cordon on the roads round the apartment. Our faces are all over the news networks. We don’t know what instructions they’ve been given if they see us. If you want to see your son again, you need to stick with me. I’m your best way out of this.’

‘You make me sick,’ Bethany spat. ‘I don’t need your help.’

There was another roll of thunder that caused the lights in the apartment to flicker momentarily.

Danny grabbed his chance. He dived to the ground in the half second of darkness. He heard the retort of the Glock, and the familiar splintering sound of bullet against glass. He rolled behind the cover of a sofa as the lights returned. He heard Bethany hiss with frustration and prepared himself for her to appear and take a second shot.

But she didn’t.

He heard her footsteps as she sprinted out of the apartment. Had the siren spooked her? He didn’t know and didn’t have time to think about it. He pushed himself to his feet. Ran to the table to grab his Sig. He was no stranger to death, but the sight of the General slumped and bleeding over his laptop angered him. A good man trying to do the right thing. And Danny had let him down.

He sprinted from the apartment. On the landing, he took a second to consider whether Bethany would have gone upstairs. He decided not. In two minutes, this place would be full of police. She knew that. She wouldn’t risk it. He hurtled down the stairs, his feet thumping heavily on the treads as he took them four at a time. The front door to the house was open. The rain was still falling heavily. It stung his face. He looked left and right. No sign of her. But to the left, neon lights. Sirens. Would Bethany have run that way to double-bluff him? No. She was too careful. The risk was too high, especially when she was holding the gun that had just committed a murder, and her face had been on national TV. She had turned right. He was certain of it. He sprinted after her. He tried to calculate how far ahead of him she would be. He estimated he had left the apartment twenty seconds after her. He was fitter and probably faster. A hundred metres? He peered ahead through the rain as he ran. Visibility was poor. He couldn’t see her.