Hard Landing

by Stephen Leather

  Gannon turned to Shepherd and nodded for him to go downstairs.

  'Who are you?' asked the captain. 'Americans?'

  Gannon grinned at him. 'If we were Yanks half our men would have been hit by friendly fire.'

  'You are SAS?'

  'Just do as you're told, Captain, and you'll be fine.'

  'I am just a seaman, doing my job.'

  'You can argue that with the DEA when we get to port,' said Gannon, 'but if you make a move to dump any of your cargo I'll personally tie you to an anchor and throw you in after it.'

  Shepherd headed for the stairs. The mess was still empty so he went to the canteen. The eight tied Colombians were struggling in vain to get loose.

  Their Kalashnikovs had been piled on the table. Shepherd frowned. An SAS trooper was supposed to have been standing guard over them. He pushed the door open. The trooper was lying on the floor, face down.

  Shepherd cursed. He stepped out of the canteen and felt the cold barrel of a gun press against his neck. 'You couldn't leave well alone,' said Carpenter.

  'It's over, Gerry.'

  'Drop your weapon.'

  'I can't. It's on a sling.'

  'Let go of it.'

  Shepherd let the MP5 slide through his fingers. It swung loose on its webbing.

  'You're my ticket out of here, Shepherd. Again.'

  'They won't wear that, Gerry. This is officially sanctioned. The government wants you back. The Americans want the boat.'

  Shepherd raised his hands and turned slowly. Carpenter stepped away from him. He was holding a blood-smeared Kalashnikov. 'You're not taking me in,' said Carpenter.

  'We'll see about that,' said Gannon. He was standing in the middle of the mess room, his MP5 aimed at Carpenter's chest.

  'I'm not going back to prison,' said Carpenter.

  'That's your call,' said Gannon.

  As Carpenter looked across at Gannon, Shepherd took hold of his MP5 and slid his finger on to the trigger.

  'I want off this boat,' said Carpenter.

  'That's what we're here for,' said Shepherd.

  Carpenter looked back at Shepherd. 'You're not taking me back. You were there. You've seen what it's like. I can't take twenty years.'

  'If you can't do the time . . .'

  'Fuck that!' said Carpenter.

  'No one forced you to do what you did,' said Shepherd. 'You made choices every step of the way. You dealt drugs, you had Jonathon Elliott killed, you had Rathbone and Yates killed, you tried to kill Sandy Roper, you kidnapped my son. Did I forget anything?' He frowned. 'Oh, yeah, you tried to shoot me.'

  'I should have done it when I had the chance,' said Carpenter.

  'One of life's missed opportunities,' said Shepherd. 'It's over, Gerry. They've got Fletcher and he's singing like a canary. Can't shut him up.'

  'Bullshit.'

  'Pat Neary, too. The guys they paid to break into Roper's house got caught in a black-on-black shooting in Harlesden and they gave up Fletcher to cut themselves a deal. And Digger's become very co-operative. Selling you down the river and Tony Stafford, too.'

  The colour drained from Carpenter's face. 'So it's over,' he said quietly. 'Bar the shooting.'

  'Pretty much.'

  'I could shoot you now,' said Carpenter. 'Easy as pie.'

  'It's an option.'

  'You'd get off one shot, so you'd better make it count,' said Gannon coldly, 'because if you fire that weapon, I will take you out.'

  'That's all it would take, one shot,' said Carpenter.

  'You'd be firing at an unarmed man,' said Gannon.

  'What?' said Shepherd.

  Gannon continued to stare at Carpenter. 'You didn't think we'd give him live rounds, did you? Spider here's out of practice, he'd be a liability firing real bullets.'

  Carpenter frowned. 'Bullshit.'

  'Not that shooting unarmed men is a problem with you, is it?' said Shepherd. 'Jonathon Elliott didn't have a gun. Neither did Sandy Roper.'

  'If you're going to shoot anyone, I'd be the one to aim at,' said Gannon.

  'I don't care about you,' said Carpenter.

  'Making it personal is a big mistake,' said Gannon.

  'Shut up!' shouted Carpenter. 'Let me think!' He kept the Kalashnikov levelled at Shepherd's stomach.

  Shepherd stared back at him. Gannon's revelation that his MP5 was loaded with blanks was worrying, but Shepherd figured it was a bluff. But he had one secret that he was keeping from Carpenter: underneath the black thermal suit he was wearing a Kevlar vest. The Kalashnikov was a powerful weapon and Carpenter was up close and personal, but with luck the vest would hold. It would hurt like hell but the bullets shouldn't penetrate.

  'There's nothing to think about, Gerry,' said Shepherd. 'It's over. Put the gun down.'

  'If I go back to prison, I'll never get out,' said Carpenter. 'You know that. The drugs charge. Kidnapping. Conspiracy to murder. Perverting the course of justice. They'll throw away the key.' His finger was tightening on the trigger.

  'You've no choice,' said Shepherd.

  'There's always a choice,' said Carpenter. 'You've just got to have the balls to make it.'

  'Don't do this,' said Shepherd.

  Carpenter had the Kalashnikov at waist height and tilted it so that the barrel was pointing at Shepherd's head.

  'Lower your weapon or I will fire,' said Gannon. There was no doubt that he meant what he said.

  'You understand, don't you?' asked Carpenter, his eyes still on Shepherd. He was ignoring Gannon.

  'Yeah,' said Shepherd. 'I understand.'

  'Fuck it,' said Carpenter.

  'Yeah.'

  Carpenter swung the gun towards Gannon. Gannon pulled the trigger of his MP5. Three bullets thudded into Carpenter's chest, dead centre. He fell back, three red flowers blossoming on his shirt. The Kalashnikov clattered to the floor. Carpenter's legs buckled and he fell to his knees, then slumped on to his back. His chest juddered, bloody foam frothed between his lips, and then he was still.

  'It was his choice,' said Gannon. 'He wanted it that way.'

  'I know,' said Shepherd flatly.

  'He could have surrendered. He could have come with us.'

  'I know,' saidShepherd. But he also knew how Carpenter had felt. There wasno wayhe could have spent twenty years in prison. That went for Shepherd as much as Carpenter. Life was for living. It was about being with family and friends. Watching your children grow. Being with people you loved. And if you couldn't do that, then maybe a bullet was better.

  He turned and walked back to the bridge.

  'We gave you real bullets,' Gannon shouted after him.

  'I know,' said Shepherd.

  FB2 document info

  Document ID: 194e2f6b-0330-41a4-99cf-5d2ba3812b2a

  Document version: 1

  Document creation date: 22.3.2012

  Created using: calibre 0.8.43, FictionBook Editor Release 2.6.6 software

  Document authors :

  Stephen Leather

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