Dead Centre

sequence still photographs.

The Skyvan’s props were turning.

Stefan’s little legs were a blur as he struggled to get back to his mother.

BB’s eyes were fixed on the Skyvan.

‘Nick, please do something …’

Genghis was looking into the hold of the Cargomaster.

Now BB was moving.

Gripping Stefan tightly in front of him, he ran hard into Genghis’s back, using the boy as a battering ram. Genghis stumbled and fell.

BB grabbed Mr Lover Man’s M4 from the doorway and jammed the short barrel into the back of Stefan’s head. His shouts were almost lost in the prop-wash but their message was clear. ‘Stand still, everybody. No fucker move!’

The boy’s clothing was flattened against BB by the force of the propeller. BB moved out of its way.

The M4 barrel was firmly jammed into the base of Stefan’s skull.

20

Genghis quickly recovered, weapon back up, but BB kept moving away from the aircraft, making any shot Genghis might take a whole lot harder.

Tracy screamed and lunged towards her son. ‘My baby! My baby!’

I gripped her. I shouted to Genghis above the blast of the turboprop. ‘No fire! Don’t fire! ’

He might be able to hit him, but he couldn’t guarantee that BB didn’t have enough pressure on his trigger to take the boy out with him. I had no doubt that he would. BB might be an arsehole, but he knew exactly what he was doing. If he was in a corner and going to die anyway, he wouldn’t give a fuck.

If I screwed this up and the boy got killed, Frank’s lads weren’t going to give a fuck about us — or anyone else they opened up on as they made their exit.

Mr Lover Man jumped out and I pushed Tracy towards him. ‘Take her. And tell your mate not to fire!’

I could see no other way of sorting out this shit. It was going to create more drama, but at least the boy would stay alive. Drama I could get to grips with. Dead kids — all I could do was bag them up and take them back to where they’d come from.

I made a move towards BB. Now I was closer I could make sense of his yells. ‘Get these fucking animals off the technical now. Get them off. I want them off — now!’

I turned to comply. Awaale was manning the 12.7.

It pointed our way.

I threw up my hands. ‘No, Awaale. No!’

His hand moved to the cocking handle.

‘No! Don’t fucking fire!’

The Skyvan rolled towards the runway with its ramp down. Its red interior lights glowed on the tarmac behind it. Its twin props whirled. I kept waving my arms like a madman at anyone with a weapon. ‘No firing! No firing!’

Everywhere I looked, there were too many fingers on triggers.

BB kept edging towards the technicals. ‘Get ’em out. Get ’em out!’

I shouted and motioned to Awaale to leave the wagon, but he wasn’t going anywhere. He had the biggest gun and he was going to use it if he wanted to. I took a pace forward and put myself between them, pointing at BB and bellowing, ‘Wait there, fucking wait there — I’ll sort it out.’

BB was almost foaming at the mouth. ‘Fucking do it. Get that technical. I’ll fucking drop this boy. You know I’ll do it.’

He’d be fucked if he did, but I had no doubt that he would. I held both hands out as if I was trying to stop two lots of traffic. I broke into a run towards the technical. The two covering the Georgians had their AKs pointing here, there and everywhere, screaming at Awaale, desperate to know what he wanted them to do.

Still manning the 12.7, Awaale couldn’t make sense of any of this. He could no longer feel the love. I reached the side of the wagon. He stared down at me.

‘Forget it. Let him take them.’

‘But this will look very bad, Mr Nick. My men … I am going to be their leader …’

‘That’s right, mate. But I’m going to beg, make it look good for you. You tell them later that you decided to let them go, for the boy’s sake. All good leaders must show wisdom and kindness, mate. The boy …’

I got down on my knees, hands together.

‘Please, Awaale, please.’

He liked the reaction from the two crew beside him.

‘But why does he want that child?’

‘Because everything is about the boy, Awaale. The man with the money, the powerful man — that is his son. Just leave the wagon, Awaale. We must keep the boy safe. We don’t need any more drama from the father, believe me. I told you, he can reach anywhere he wants …’

BB was still going ape-shit, but staying static. He knew this was his best option for now.

The two Georgians, still naked and against the back of the cab, began to taste freedom. They gave me a smirk. Dec gobbed at me as I got to my feet. It hit me on my right shoulder. I wanted to reach over and throttle the fucker, but that would have to wait. ‘Awaale, let it go. Fuck ’em.’

The Skyvan had reached the end of the runway.

‘And fuck Erasto. You’ll just have to take over tonight, won’t you?’

He was still struggling to compute. I had to scream like a drill sergeant to get through to him. ‘Give — them — the — wagon!’

His face crumpled. He almost looked hurt. I took a deep breath, forced myself to be calm. ‘Please, Awaale … Please …’

He thought about it.

Finally, achingly slowly, he waved an arm at the two crew to debus. The lads jumped off, and he followed.

Ant and Dec got to their feet. The driver was out. Ant vaulted over the side and took the wheel. BB reversed towards the wagon, muzzle still glued to the back of Stefan’s head.

The rest of us shuffled backwards towards the Cargomaster. Mr Lover Man shouted, ‘Tracy, no! No!’

Like a banshee, she zoomed past me.

Her body convulsed with sobs as she ran. ‘Take me, take me! Not my baby, please!’

I bellowed, ‘Tracy, stand still. Stand still!’

But she didn’t. Of course she didn’t.

BB threw the boy onto the flatbed with Dec and swung round to face the threat. Tracy hurled herself at him. He used her own momentum to fling her to the ground. As he climbed on board, she came back at him. He tried to kick her off but she clung on. The wagon started to move. She slipped and for a second it looked as if she was going to fall, but with a desperate lunge she managed to grab the sill of the flatbed. Her feet dragged along the tarmac.

She gripped the sill and tried to swing her legs onto the back of the wagon.

Dec handed the boy back to BB and took the M4. He moved to the edge and stamped on Tracy’s fingers.

Ant swung the wheel from side to side.

Tracy managed to hook a knee over the edge of the flatbed and held on grimly, but her grip was loosening.