Bombproof
Page 26
The judge is gathering his papers to leave.
Sami is dumbstruck. ‘Thank you,’ he whispers.
His voice carries to the bench. The judge stops and turns.
‘Good luck, Mr Macbeth. It may well be that your sole purpose in life is to serve as a warning to others. That’s for the future to decide.’
Terminal Four at Heathrow Airport is like a third world outpost with families of refugees taking up corners of the lounge and backpackers sprawled out on hard plastic chairs that will outlive civilisation.
Vincent Ruiz has been allowed airside, along with Miranda. They’re watching Sami and Nadia stock up on suntan lotion and travel guides. According to the witness protection guidelines their destination is supposed to be a secret but Sami is wearing a Save the Whales - Harpoon a Jap T-shirt promoting Greenpeace in Australia.
‘So you’re ready,’ says Ruiz.
‘We’re ready.’
Nadia is showing Miranda her purchases. Sami looks up at the departures board.
‘Guess we’d better go.’
‘I guess so.’
‘We’ll be back for the trial.’
‘You will.’
‘Do you think Murphy and Garza will go to prison?’
‘That’s not your problem. You swear on oath. You tell the truth. You walk away.’
‘Just like that.’
‘Just like that.’
‘And what happens then?’
‘Nothing. Just the rest of your lives.’
Sami nods. Ruiz wants to say stuff like ‘stay in touch’ and ‘don’t be a stranger’ but none of that’s going to be possible. From now on Sami and Nadia will always be someone different. Someone new.
Miranda gives Sami a hug.
‘Looks like I’ll never be a rock god.’
‘You can still have a band. Just don’t get too famous.’
‘I could wear make-up.’
‘Too seventies.’
The goodbyes are said. The hugs are given. Sami and Nadia disappear through the gate into an aeroplane that’s so huge it takes a leap of faith to imagine it could sail through the air.
The psychologist, Joe O’Loughlin, once told Ruiz about one of his patients, a commercial pilot, who believed that God picked up each plane on take-off and set it down again on landing. There was nothing that said the guy couldn’t fly. He’s probably still working.
Ruiz and Miranda walk back through the terminal and step outside.
‘You want to come to Paris with me?’ he asks.
‘Why?’
‘Because I’ve bought the tickets and I don’t know if Eurostar will give me a refund?’
‘You want my body?’
‘Not as a temple - I want it as an adventure playground.’
Miranda laughs. ‘You haven’t changed.’
Ruiz looks aghast. ‘You mean after all the work I’ve done on myself, trying to shed my bad habits and personality traits … and I’m still the same.’
She sighs and tucks her arm through his. ‘When do we leave?’
‘Saturday.’
‘I choose the hotel. You pay the bill.’
He sighs happily. ‘It was ever thus.’