Adrenaline had kicked in when we were on the move, but its effects were subsiding. I just wanted to lie there, but I knew that if I made an effort it would pay off. I pulled the strap of Sarah's bag over my head and dropped it on the ground. Then I took out the knots with cold, numb and very fumbling hands and teeth. With my foot on the collar of the jacket, I got hold of the rest of it and started to twist out the worst of the water.
Sarah looked at me like an abused puppy, huddled up and shivering. I untwisted the jacket and threw it at her. I wanted her to stay alive for two reasons now: I still didn't want to have to carry a dead weight out of the area, and I wanted her to answer some questions.
She put the jacket around her shoulders and hungrily wrapped herself up in it. Then she wriggled backward until she was resting against the tree, cuddling herself, trying to tuck the jacket around her legs.
I took off my shirt and T-shirt, and wrung them out, too. I was shivering so badly that it felt as if my muscles were in spasm, but it had to be done.
I had to get the water out and some air into the fibers so that my body heat what was left of it could sustain itself. Not that cotton has that many air pockets.
'Cotton kills,' the saying goes in outdoors circles, and for good reason, but what I was doing was better than nothing. It made me think of Shirts KF, the thick woolly shirts we had to wear in the infantry.
I'd never found out what the letters KF stood for; all I knew was that the material used to itch and scratch, and in summer made you feel as if you were wearing a greatcoat, but in the field during winter they were great wet or dry, the fibers retained heat.
I put the shirt and T-shirt back on, then knelt to take off my boots, fumbling to undo the laces with numb, trembling fingers. Finally I wrung out my jeans, taking care to keep the pistol away from Sarah's grasp.
When I was dressed again I tucked everything in, trying to minimize the number of ways in which the wind could get to me. I pushed the pistol into the back of my jeans by the base of my spine, where she wouldn't be able to get at it.
I sat back against the trunk, with Sarah on my left. She was still in the same position as before, sitting in a curled up ball and using the jacket as best she could to keep herself warm, her hands keeping the collar pulled up around her face.
It's always best to share body warmth, and two people of opposite sexes huddled together generate five percent more warmth than two of the same sex. I nudged her with my elbow, held out my arms and motioned with my head for her to move over. She shuffled across, sniffing, her hair soaking wet and plastered over her face.
High above, a strong gust of wind made the tree sway. I straightened my legs and she arranged herself in my lap with her left side against me, then I lifted my legs to press her closer to my chest, which insulated her from the ground, and got more of her skin in contact with mine. Her wet hair was over my shoulder as her body pushed into mine. I put my arms around her. Neither of us could control our shivering. She snuggled into me, her head against my chest, and I could feel the benefit almost immediately.
There was a silence during which we both willed ourselves to get warm. I looked down on her wet, muddy hair, flecked with pine needles and bits of bark.
It almost took me by surprise when she spoke.
'I suppose they told you I'm a runner?' Her body was shaking. She didn't move her head for me to see, but I could tell by her tone that her period of compliance was coming to an end.
'Something like that.' I bent my head to listen for any follow up, and raised my knees more to pull her nearer for warmth.
'And I suppose you believed them? Christ, I've been putting this operation together for over four years, Nick. Now it's destroyed by some dunderhead who's sent to fuck me over.'
The dunderhead bit pissed me off.
'Four years to do what? What operation?
What the fuck are you talking about, Sarah?'
Her speech was slow, the tone that of a schoolmistress trying to show patience as she explains simple things to tiny minds. It was only partly working; her shivering was making her speech disjointed.
'Four years to infiltrate deep enough to discover their network in the U.S. and Europe-that's what I am talking about.'
'Infiltrate who? What? Why didn't London know?'
'London...' She paused.
'The reason London doesn't know is because I don't know who I can tell. I don't know the whole network yet, but the more I learn, the more I know I can't trust anyone.'
There was another pause. She intended it to give me time to think, but I left it for her to fill. After pulling the collar up farther around her face to fight the cold, she took the hint.
'I suppose they sent you to kill me?' Her voice was slightly muffled by the jacket.
'No, just to get you back to the U.K. for questioning. It seems you are becoming an embarrassment.'
She scoffed at my answer. I could feel her shoulders shaking as she covered her mouth to hide the noise of her coughing laugh.
'Ah, London...' The laughter stopped and the coughing took over.
She looked up at me.
'Listen, Nick, London has got it wrong. This isn't about embarrassment, for Christ's sake. It's about assassination.' I must have had that vacant expression on my face again, because she reverted to her kindergarten teacher voice.
'The team in the house; they were planning a hit on Netanyahu.'
To be honest, I didn't really give a shit about Netanyahu, so I couldn't help a grin.
'The hit has failed. They're all dead, apart from one.'
Her head started shaking like a mechanical toy. She was deadly serious, or as serious as you can be when all your extremities are purple, including your nose.
'No, you're wrong. There are still two more members of the cell. They were going to RV with us at the house today. You don't understand, Nick; it's not a job to them, it's a quest. They will carry on.' There was real frustration in her voice.
'Believe me, ifNetanyahu dies, you will give a shit. It will change the way you live, Nick. That is, if you do.'
I hated all this beating around the bush; it was like being in the middle of a conversation with Lynn and Elizabeth again.
'What the fuck are you on about, Sarah?'
She thought for a while as she buried her head back into the jacket collar.
The sound of the rotor blades kicked in to join the wind above us, then died as quickly as it came.
'No, not yet. I'm going to keep that as my insurance; I need to make sure you get me out of here. You see, Nick, I don't believe you're here to take me back to London. It must be more important than that, or they wouldn't have sent you.'
She was right, of course. I would do exactly the same if I were in her position.
'Look, Nick. Keep me alive and get me out of here, and I'll tell you everything. Don't let them use you; give me time to prove it.'
I hated not having control. I wanted to know more, but at the same I wasn't so desperate that I would lie awake at night with worry. I didn't reply;
I had to think. And I was going to take her out of there anyway, whether she liked it or not.
She adjusted her body on my legs, and looked up again and stared into my eyes.
'Nick, please believe me. I've got involved in something where nobody can be trusted and I mean nobody.'
She kept her eyes locked on mine. She had just opened her mouth to speak again when we both heard the sound of somebody crashing through the trees.
Whoever it was wasn't having much luck with their footing. They hit the ground with a loud curse.
'Shittt!' It was a man's voice.
