Honour Bound (34 page)

He
put both hands on the table, left over right, and looked at Langdon. "What
sort of deal did you have in mind? Do you want me to blow up a hospital or
machine gun a school playground while you and your friend hire somebody to rob
a corner shop?" He laid emphasis on the word friend to see if there would
be a reaction.

Langdon
smiled, apparently oblivious. Not so
Vousson
, a black
scowl appeared on his boyish face as though a long kept secret had just made
the front page.

Norton
felt his spirits rise. 

Langdon
said, "Let me explain my methods. The people at the airport and Tower Bridge
died so that Scotland Yard would act immediately on our codeword. Which they
did, I hasten to add. They were very, very efficient in blocking off the
motorway. You see Sam, what we did not want was a regiment of hairy arsed,
trigger-happy coppers bearing down on our helicopter while it was moving the
bullion truck. So I ask you, what better way was there, than to enlist the
services of those very same hairy arsed individuals to ensure that did not
happen. It was a simple plan, like all the good ones are."

"A
simple plan with so many deaths,” Norton said, “So, what's next on the
megalomaniac’s menu."

Langdon
grinned.
"Megalomaniac."
He shook his head.
"No, that's not a very good description of me. I would agree with
peniaphobe
, because money is something I always want more
of, it is something that nobody, not even you Sam, can do without. Let us take
your own case for example. You have given your services to your country, both
in the military and in the Unit. You have put your life at risk so many times and
killed so many people, and what do you have to show for it, nothing, absolutely
nothing, the grand sum of zero. All you can expect is a bullet in some dark
alley if you make a mistake or a pat on the back if you don't. And when you’re
no longer needed, what happens then? You are kicked out with a piss poor
pension that they begrudge paying even after a lifetime of service. There was
no way that was going to happen to me, and if you come in with us, it won't
happen to you either."

Norton
moved his right hand a fraction closer to his left sleeve, and the remaining
knife.

"I
would rather draw an honest pension than murder people for the sake of
it." He paused, looking directly at Remy
Vousson
,
"Apart from that I don't want to spend my old age with a tampon stuck up
my arse."

Vousson's
face went
crimson with rage. Norton drew the knife and threw it at the same time as the
Frenchman's hand darted into his jacket.   

The
knife buried itself in
Vousson's
left cheek. The thin
razor sharp blade easily cut through the soft flesh and gum, the point lodging
in the side of his tongue. A pink spray filled the air as he tried to scream,
the very act causing more pain and blood as the blade, with the gum acting as a
fulcrum, extended the wound with the movement.

As
soon as the knife had left his hand, Norton dived from the chair and grabbed
the Sig. He rolled across the floor hearing the crack of the revolver and felt
a searing streak on his right leg as the bullet burned a path across his calf
muscle.

He
rolled over again and looked back at the table. Langdon was on his feet,
grabbing at Sarah who started to scream and struggle.
Vousson
,
with a howl like a wounded animal, pulled the knife from his face and raised
his gun. Norton fired several shots from the Sig into the lone figure at the
end of the table. The Frenchman slammed into the wall as round after round
punched into his body, he died with a choked off scream as the last bullet
ripped a bloody path through his exposed throat and exited behind his left ear.
His blood soaked body slumped against a serving trolley and collapsed in a
torrent of silver cutlery and china dishes.

Norton
quickly reloaded the Sig and got to his feet. Skirting around the table he
crunched through the glass on the patio and out into the garden, Langdon and
Sarah were nowhere to be seen.

Voices.
Norton listened. They were coming from
the right, from the front of the house. He tucked himself in as close as he
could to the ivy-covered wall and made his way towards the sounds. At the
corner of the building he stopped, carefully he looked around the corner.
Langdon was by the cars talking to six men in blue overalls, gesticulating
wildly and pointing at the house. He could see Sarah in the back of the
Daimler, her head barely visible through the tinted glass. As he watched, five
of the blue clad figures detached themselves from the group and ran towards the
house, entering through the double doors, Langdon and the remaining man got
into the Daimler.

The
car engine roared into life. Norton switched on the laser sight and stepped
into the open. The car picked up speed, gravel rattling in the wheel arches as
it negotiated a slight bend. Norton, his aim assisted by the laser sight, put
three bullets from the Sig through the rubber wall of the front tyre, which
exploded in a cloud of rubber, dust and gravel. The big car slewed first to the
left then to the right as the driver overcorrected. The front wheels turned
again but too late. The rear wing of the car smashed into the bole of a tree
before bouncing back onto the drive. Norton, walking to the car, could see the
driver slumped over the steering wheel. The rear door was kicked open and
Langdon scrambled out dragging Sarah with him.

"Come
on you fucking bitch," he screamed, as he grabbed a handful of hair,
trying to pull her to her feet.

Norton
stopped and raised the Sig. "
Oi
, scumbag!"

Langdon
turned. The red dot centred squarely on his forehead. Norton fired.

He
bent down and helped Sarah to her feet. Her forehead was bruised and bleeding,
caused by the Daimler's impact with the tree. She was crying and close to
hysteria, he had to keep her moving. As soon as she was standing, he pulled her
into the tree line. "Come on we have to get out of here. There are still
some goons in the house."

She
ran with him, stumbling on uneven ground, arms raised to ward off the branches
intent on impeding their progress, only his arm around her waist preventing her
from falling. Finally, they broke through a thin screen of bushes at the edge
of the trees and ran across the drive to the gate. Norton cursed inwardly when
he saw a van blocking in the Ford.

"Just
a few more yards," he said as they ran across the road and into the bushes
on the other side, as soon as they stopped running Sarah dropped to her knees.
Breathing hard, her sobs mingled with harsh intakes of breath.

Norton
knelt beside her and kissed her forehead. "I have to move the van. Wait
here until I come back, I won't be long."

He
crossed the road and opened the van door. No keys. The sound of an engine
starting up drifted through the trees.

"Shit,
here come the Indians."

He
was about to close the door when his gaze fell on a metallic tube in the
storage rack behind the front seats. Reaching over, he picked it up and smiled.

"There
is a God," he said and ran round the front of the van and positioned
himself behind the Ford. Looking over the roof of the car, he had a clear view
along the drive until it disappeared out of view around a bend into the trees.
The sound of the engine was getting closer, only seconds now before it came
into view. Norton quickly scanned the M72 launcher then extended the weapon to
its maximum length by pulling the inner tube out of the outer tube and locking
it into position. He flicked the front and rear sights up, removed the safety
pin and waited.

The
Aston Martin appeared at the end of the drive its shiny paintwork reflecting
the sun as the car passed through ladders of light filtering through the trees.
A figure leant out of the window and opened fire with a submachine gun. The
bullets peppered the ground twenty yards short of the Ford. Norton lined the
sight on the approaching car and gently pressed the trigger on the top of the
launcher. The missile flew out of the tube, moments after the launch the rocket
motor punched into life and flew at ever increasing speed along the drive. The
warhead, designed to penetrate armour on battle tanks, tore through the thin
metal of the Aston Martin as though it were made of plywood, before exploding
on contact with the rear axle. The rear of the car disintegrated, blazing
fragments thrown in all directions. The front of the car came to a halt in the
tree line, steadily succumbing to the cleansing flames.

Norton
dropped the launcher and walked across the road. Sarah was still on her knees,
her face covered by her hands. Her body jumped as he touched her shoulder.

"Sarah,"
he said, "it's over."

She
looked up at him, eyes red,
blood
drying on her
forehead. "Is it over, is it really over?"

He
nodded and gently ran his hand through her hair.

"Yes,"
he said, "you're safe now."

"Stay
with me," she whispered, "please don't leave me again."

Norton
knelt beside her and pulled her to his chest. "I promise
,
I won't let you out of my sight."