started giving the boy a good kicking. Maureen talked into her radio with a calm assurance that only comes from years of experience.
I leant against the wall as a couple more tobacco-sellers appeared and tried to stop the fight.
Within minutes, sirens were wailing in the distance, and getting louder. Maureen hit the door buzzer and tobacco-sellers bomb-burst back into the hostel, bags in hand, thinking they were getting raided, running to their rooms to hide their stashes and leaving the boys from Manchester outside to fend for themselves.
Close behind them, four police officers pushed their way in to sort out the fracas.
I checked Baby-G, a new black one with purple illumination. Over three hours to go before pick-up, and there was nothing I wanted to do. I didn't want to eat, didn't want to drink, didn't even want to just sit around, and I certainly didn't want Maureen gazing into my soul, no matter how helpful she was trying to be. She knew too much already. So I started heading out towards the street, nodding my thanks. Even in a time of crisis she gave me a second of her time.
'You need to stop worrying, Nick. Worrying too much affects this, you know.' She tapped the side of her forehead with her index finger.
'I've seen enough of that in here to know, darling.'
One of the phones rang behind her as the scuffle continued at the bottom of the stairs.
'Got to go, luv. I hope things work out for you they normally do, you know. Good luck, darling.'
Once outside, the noise of the construction site drowned out the shouting. I slouched on the steps, staring at the paving slabs as the fighters were dragged away, their angry voices lost amongst the roar of pneumatic drills.
On the dot of 3 p.m. the Merc cruised past and found a space further down the road. Trainers was at the wheel and Sundance next to him. They left the engine running.
I unstuck my very numb arse from the steps and dragged myself towards them. They were dressed in the same clothes as this morning, and drinking coffee out of paper cups. I took my time not to make them wait, but because my body couldn't move any quicker, just like my mind.
They gave me no acknowledgement as I got into the back and they put their seatbelts back on.
Sundance threw a brown envelope over his shoulder at me as we drove off.
'I've already taken five hundred out of the account, so don't bother trying again today. That covers the eighty-five sub plus interest.'
They grinned at each other. The job had its compensations.
My new passport and credit card were hot off the press but looking suitably aged, along with my new PIN number and open-return air ticket, leaving Miami to Panama City, 7.05 a.m. tomorrow. How I got to Miami by then didn't bother me I'd be told soon enough.
I flicked through my visas so I knew that I'd been on holiday for two weeks in Morocco in July. The stamps were all related to the truth I had been there, just not as recently. But at least it meant I could bluff my way through a routine check at Immigration and Customs. The rest of my cover story would be the same as ever, just travelling after a boring life selling insurance; I had done most of Europe, now I wanted to see the rest of the world.
I still wasn't impressed by my cover name, though. Hoff why Hoff? It didn't sound right. Nick Hoff, Nick Hoff. It didn't even start with the same letter as my real surname, so it was difficult not to get confused and hesitant when signing a signature. Hoff sounded unnatural: if you were called Hoff, you wouldn't christen your son Nicholas unless you wanted to give him a tough time at school: it sounded like someone with a speech impediment saying 'knickers off.
Sundance didn't ask for a signature, and that bothered me. I got pissed off with bullshit when it was official, but even more so when it wasn't.
'What about my CA?' I asked.
'Can I call them?'
Sundance didn't bother to look round as we bumped along in the traffic.
'It's already done.' He dipped into his jeans and brought out a scrap of paper.
'The new mini roundabout has been built at last, but everyone is still waiting on the decision about the bypass. That comes through some time next month.'
I nodded; it was an update on the local news from what the Yes Man had renamed the Cover Address. James and Rosemary had loved me like a son since I boarded with them years ago, or so the cover story went. I even had a bedroom there, and some clothes in the wardrobe.
These were the people who would both confirm my cover story and be part of it.
They'd never take any action on my behalf, but would back me up if I needed them to.
'That's where I live,' I could tell whoever was questioning me.
'Phone them, ask them.'
I visited James and Rosemary whenever I could, so my cover had got stronger as time passed. They knew nothing about the ops and didn't want to; we would just talk about what was going on at the social club, and a bit of other local and personal stuff. I needed to know these things because I would do if I lived there all the time. I hadn't wanted to use them for the sniper job, because that would have meant the Firm knowing the name I was travelling under, and where to.
As things had turned out, it looked as if I'd been right.
Sundance started to tell me how I was going to make it to Miami in time for my flight to Panama. The Yes Man hadn't hung about. Within four hours I was going to be lying in a sleeping bag on top of some crates of military kit stuffed into an R.A.F Tristar, leaving R.A.F Brize Norton, near Oxford, for Fort Campbell in Kentucky, where a Jock infantry battalion was having a joint exercise with the 101st Airborne Division 'Screaming Eagles'. They had given up their parachutes years ago and now screamed around in more helicopters than nearly all of the European armies put together. There were no commercial flights this time of day that would get me where I needed to be by tomorrow morning; this was the only way. I was getting kicked off in Florida, and a US visa waiver would be stamped in my passport at the Marine base. I then had three hours in which to transfer to Miami airport and make the flight to Panama.
Sundance growled as he looked out at two women waiting for a bus.
'Once you get there you are being sponsored by two doctors.' He glanced at his notes again.
'Carrie and Aaron Yanklewitz. Fucking stupid name.'
He looked at Trainers, who nodded in agreement before getting back to the scrap of paper.
There will be no contact with Mr. Frampton or anyone here. Everything to, or from, is via their handler.'
I wondered if there was just a faint chance the Yanklewitzes were Polish Americans. My head was pressed against the window as I gazed out at real life passing me by.
'Are you listening, fuckhead?'
I looked in the rear-view mirror and could see him, waiting for a reply. I nodded.
They'll be at the airport with a name card and a pass number of thirteen. You got that? Thirteen.'
I nodded once more, this time not bothering to look at him.
They'll show you the wee boy's house, and should have all the imagery and stuff by the time you get there. They don't know what your job is. But we do, don't we, boy?' He swivelled round to face me as I continued to gaze at nothing in particular, not feeling anything, just numb.
'And that's to finish the job, isn't it?' He jabbed the air between us with his forefinger as he spoke.
'You're going to finish what you were paid to do. And it's going to be done by Friday, last light. Do you understand, Stone? Finish it.'
I felt more depressed and pissed off each time the job was mentioned.
'I'd be lost without you.'
Sundance's finger and thumb jabbed the air again as he made not too good a job of containing his rage.
'Kill the fucking boy.' He spat the words and flecks of saliva showered on to my face.
I got the feeling everyone was under pressure in this car, and I bet that was because the Yes Man was himself. I wondered if C had been told about my security blanket or had the Yes Man decided to claim that the 'scuppering' was down to bad com ms After all, that was what I'd told him, wasn't it? I couldn't remember now.
The Yes Man had probably told C that good old Stone whom C wouldn't know if I fell out of the sky and
