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.
