Exit wound

Tattoo had both eyes open as I ran into his sight picture.

I jinked left.

He fired.

I jinked again, and this time I turned. I ran hard, focused on the Yukon, blanking out the gunshots behind me. No evasive action, none of that shit now. I just kept going. The three of them were dead. There was nothing I could do for them.

The firing behind me was more distant. Only a lucky shot would take me down. All he could do was pump out the rounds and hope.

Just metres to the car.

The tiniest movement of the barrel translates into an enormous diversion of the round.

Head down, almost at the door.

No shouts behind me, no confusion, just more shots.

I grabbed the door handle, jumped into the seat and saw both of them running forward, dumping magazines and throwing in new ones.

I took a breath to slow everything down.

Key in, ignition on.

The windscreen took a round top right. It crazed like a spider’s web but the toughened glass held. I pushed my foot to the floor and the auto-transmission did its stuff. I steered for the gate on full beam, hit the main road and swung the vehicle left.

There was no follow-up in the rear-view – at least, none using headlights.

Why would they bother? They’d got everything they wanted, apart from one crate.

I fought to contain the emotion that boiled inside me. Anger wasn’t going to help get me out of here. First I had to pick up my passport and then get out of Dubai – maybe head east for Oman a couple of hours’ north. Once I was safe, I’d call Julian. He’d get me out of the shit.

I was back on the coast road. The city soon glowed on the horizon. A few K more and, as I passed the rest area where we’d loaded the Suburban, I could see the warning lights blink on top of the skyscrapers.

Six K later I was pulling into wasteland just inside the city limits. I jumped out, looking for something hard to do some damage. ‘Sherry, it’s OK – get up.’

The ground was littered with piles of broken-up concrete blocks and reinforcement rods from the construction sites all around us. A lump of concrete would work for me.

By the time I got back to the wagon she was sitting up with the blanket still over her head. ‘You don’t need that any more.’ I opened the rear door. One look at what I had in my hand confirmed her worst fears. ‘God, please, no!’

I headed for the windscreen. ‘Shut up and get out!’

I started by giving the bullet hole a couple of hits to disguise it. Sherry stood there, the blanket still in her hand. ‘You’re safe, Sherry. It’s all over. I’m fucking off now and so should you. If you want to see your husband, don’t say a word to anyone. If you do, you’re in the shit with the UAE.’

I didn’t give her time to answer. She just needed gripping. ‘Go get the windscreen replaced.’ I gave her half the money I had on me. She took the cash and didn’t say a word or even draw breath before jumping into the driver’s seat and hitting the gas. Fair one.

I watched her rear lights melt into the mass of streetlights and neon before I started walking in the same direction.

39

First light

I asked the driver to drop me off along the Creek, just past the tunnel. I walked along the waterfront towards the toilet block a K away. There were a lot of people about, despite the time of day. Indians and Filipinos, of course. The traffic was constant but not dense.

I stopped short of the toilet block, taking a seat inside one of the space-age bus shelters. I looked and watched, clearing the area around one of our known locations. It would have appeared a long shot to the lads who’d been following us, but one they would have considered.

I’d take the others’ passports and cash as well. They had no use for them now.

A couple of old Indian women came and sat down beside me. They ignored the white man in shit state who was waiting for a bus.

I couldn’t see a Toyota or Mazda, no one sitting in any vehicle, just the odd guy going in and coming pretty much straight out again. Everything looked normal.

I nodded goodbye to the women and headed down the subway. I turned left as I emerged and went straight into the toilet block. It was empty.

I felt along the shelf. There was nothing.

Shit.

I started running to the door. I was heading out into the market area, anywhere I could make distance and lose myself down alleyways, behind buildings, anywhere to escape.

A body crashed into me in the doorway. I stumbled backwards. There were another two, maybe three, behind him. They flooded me, and as my head hit the wall I caught a flash of blue shirt. The next thing I heard was the crackle of a Tazer. A nanosecond later, my body exploded and I dropped.

PART FOUR

40

I came round feeling like I’d been on a four-day bender. My mouth was as dry as sand and my teeth were coated with fur. I breathed out and the blanket bounced it back at me. It wasn’t my best day out.