‘Why did you do this for me, Paul?’ Sam asked. Etheridge smiled, slid the car into the gear and pulled out onto the road.
‘It was the right thing to do.’
Epilogue
‘So where will you go?’
Sam placed his pint of Birra Moretti onto the coaster, and sat back in the uncomfortable, metal chair. Airport bars were guaranteed business, so they didn’t push the boat out on expensive furniture to lure the customers in. Etheridge sat opposite him, beer in hand and over his shoulder, Sam watched a stag party tucking into a row of tequila shots, the unfortunate stag dressed like a Disney princess he couldn’t name.
Etheridge shrugged, sipped his beer, and then looked up at the board.
‘Not sure, yet.’ He pushed out his bottom lip as he weighed up his options. ‘Greece could be nice?’
It had been a week since Etheridge had intercepted Sam’s transfer to prison and the two of them had become one of the Met Police’s top priority. Etheridge hadn’t taken them back to his house, despite the labyrinth of a paper trail he’d created to hide the fact he still lived there.
Someone was bound to pull all the information together and pull apart the ruse that he was living an easy life in Tenerife. Luckily, thanks to the vast wealth he’d accumulated, the two of them had stayed in a small flat he’d acquired as a renovation project a year ago. After Sam’s interjection into his life, the project had been put on hold, but two camp beds and microwave meals were more than enough for two former soldiers.
They had laid low, with Etheridge securing their fake passports and IDs, along with Sam’s plane ticket. Sam was travelling light, with nothing but his wallet, passport, and ticket.
‘Are you sure you’re okay with this?’ Sam asked, finishing another sip of the customary airport beer. ‘This is your whole life you’re throwing away.’
Etheridge downed the rest of his pint, before meeting Sam with an excited glint in his eye.
‘I told you, Sam. I had everything. Money. The mansion. The wife. But it was all…superficial. Joining your fight was the best thing that ever happened to me. But right now, considering how much we fucked the system, I kind of need to lie low for a while.’
‘Fair enough.’ Sam tipped his glass to Etheridge. ‘Thank you. You saved my life a few times over the past few months.’
‘Eh, I owed you one.’
It was true. Years ago, early in their military career, Etheridge had fallen down a rocky cliff face, breaking his leg and drawing the attention of the enemy. As the rescue mission began, Sam had eliminated the incoming squadron, saving Etheridge’s life.
‘How will I get hold of you?’ Sam laughed. ‘I’m not so good with the computers. I’m more of a punchy, shooty type.’
Etheridge chuckled as he stood, wrapping the straps of the backpack over his shoulders and then tightening the baseball cap to his shaved head.
‘You won’t be able to. Not for a while.’ Etheridge looked back up at the board. ‘I need to stay off the grid for a while. Don’t worry, I popped a bank card into your wallet. The pin is four four four four. Think you can remember that?’
Sam lifted his middle finger.
‘Why?’
‘Because you need to keep the fight going, Sam. Most of my money has been gifted to charity. Consider it a donation to your cause.’
Sam stood, overwhelmed by the belief Etheridge had shown in him. It had been six months since Sam had turned up at Etheridge’s house after years of exile, demanding a favour from a man who seemed to have the perfect life.
It was crazy how life changed. The man who stood before Sam now was a different one to back then. Fitter, leaner, focused.
Etheridge may not have been a soldier in the same mould as Sam, few were. But he was a soldier.
The fight wasn’t over for either of them.
‘Take care,’ Sam said warmly, offering Etheridge a firm hand. Etheridge sighed.
‘Bullshit. Come here.’ Etheridge wrapped his arms around Sam and the two men hugged. After a few back pats, Etheridge stepped back and smiled. ‘Stay out of trouble.’
‘I’ll try.’
‘No you won’t.’
Etheridge smiled and turned towards the ticket office, heading to wherever he fancied. Sam watched him walking for a few moments, a sense of sadness at the loss of another friend. For the first time in what felt like a long time, he was on his own.
Pearce had retired.
Singh had disappeared since joining Directive One.
Mac and Theo had sadly passed away.
Now, walking with all the freedom in the world, Etheridge merged into the crowd and seemingly vanished.
The speaker above Sam’s head broke his concentration.
‘This is a boarding call for flight C992, non-stop to LaGuardia, New York. Please make your way to gate 15.’
Sam quickly lifted his pint, tipped back the last few sips, and slammed the glass down and then walked briskly through London Gatwick Airport towards the announced gate. His stomach rumbled, but with Etheridge’s generosity now sat in his wallet, Sam was looking forward to a hefty meal on the plane.
He had a long flight ahead of him and once he got there, he had only a name and an address.
Sam handed his ticket and passport over at the gate, charmed the young lady with a smile and then made his way towards the large plane that would take him to America.
No plan.
No backup.
But Sam had made Alex Stone a promise.
A promise he intended to keep.
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Sam Pope Novels
THE NIGHT SHIFT
THE TAKERS
LONG ROAD HOME
TOO FAR GONE
THE FINAL MILE
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Copyright © Robert Enright, 2020
All rights reserved. No part of this publication may be reproduced, stored in a retrieval system, or transmitted in any form or by any means, electronic, photocopying, mechanical, recording, or otherwise, without the prior permission of the copyright owner.
All characters in this book are fictitious and any resemblance to actual persons living or dead is purely coincidental.
Cover by Phillip Griffiths
Edited by Emma Mitchell
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The Final Mile: A SAM POPE NOVEL Page 25