Crisis Four Part 42

"Of course, I don't go along with all this nonsense about blaming everything in your life on the traumas of childhood," Lynn said.

"My parents dragged me around Southeast Asia until I was seven, then I went to Eton. Never did me any harm."

The menus were being plonked unceremoniously on the bar counter by the girl who'd served me before. The thought of dis.h.i.+ng out another hundred stuff and chips obviously didn't fill her with too much excitement.

I decided on the pie and another beer. The same as last night and the night before. A quick look at Baby-G told me it was seven forty-eight, just over half an hour until my RV Traffic was still clogging the street by the time I left, but at least it was moving. I turned left, checked my watch yet again and headed toward Victoria Station. Thirteen minutes till the pickup. I turned two corners and stopped, waiting to see if anyone was following. They weren't.

Crossing the road, I cut through a housing estate that was packed with K reg Vauxhall Astras and Sierras, sat on a wall by the rubbish chute and waited. Half a dozen kids were skateboarding up and down the only bit of clear tarmac they could find--the exit in front of me that led onto the main drag toward the station. I listened to their banter, thinking about when I was where they were.

I thought of Kelly--the girl who'd had her whole family killed, and now had a stand-in father who constantly let her down. And worse than that, much worse, I was probably the closest thing she had to a best friend.

Sarah's words came back to me.

"You have a child now. I hope you live long enough to see her."

I cut away from all that and got back to real life by reminding myself of the two big lessons I'd learned in Was.h.i.+ngton. The first was never again to be so soft with someone who showed emotion toward me. I had to stop kidding myself that I knew, or even understood, that sort of stuff. The second was easier: always carry a pistol. I never wanted to play Robin Hood again.

It was last light as I sat, watched and listened. Sarah's words still bugged me.

"You have a child now ..."

The Voyager would be arriving any minute. I looked at Baby-G and thought about George's Rolex. And then I knew what I had to do. I wasn't exactly a top-of-the-range example for Kelly, but the very least I could do was be dependable. Maybe, just maybe, the one thing that Sarah had given me by sparing my life was the chance to do the right thing.

Moving swiftly away from the RV point, I jumped a fence that secured a communal garden.

Crouching in the shadows, I pulled the Leatherman from my pocket, opened the knife blade, and cut away at the plastic encircling my ankle.

The pliers made short work of the half-inch steel band that ran beneath.

I knew that the instant the circuit was broken the alarm would be raised. Even as the tag was being binned in the bushes, the standby team would be running for their cars, getting briefed via their body com ms (personal radios).

Jumping back over the fence, I headed toward Victoria at a controlled, fast pace. f.u.c.k 'em. What were they going to do? Well, quite a bit, but I'd worry about that when it happened. It wasn't as if I was doing an out and out runner. I'd be back in the flat on Sunday, talking to the morons about Afghanistan. The only difference would be that I'd have acquired two new friends with necks as big as the Serb's, a.s.signed to guard me 24/7, just in case I was overcome again by the desire to take a weekend off.

There were sirens behind me now on the other side of the estate. They must be flapping big time to call in the police.

As I neared the station I just hoped the investigating team had kids of their own, and would understand when I explained to them on Sunday that all I wanted to do was take my child to the b.l.o.o.d.y Tower for a day out.

After all, I'd made her a promise. A normal person's promise.