“C… cold,” she said slowly.
She sounded drunk. King hoped and prayed she had not suffered brain damage from the rush of adrenaline. But it had been a Hail Mary and he had no other option. What he counted on was the freezing water shutting down her body in such a way as to put her to sleep, rather than suffer instant cardiac arrest.
“It’s okay, my darling,” he said. He found himself thinking of his wife, Jane. How he had discovered her body, still and peaceful. How he had hugged her close and talked to her, reassured her for hours. He had known she had died, but he couldn’t find it in him to say goodbye. He remembered his tone, echoing in his ears, his senses nulled from grief. He sounded the same now. He stroked Caroline’s forehead.
“C… cold,” she said again.
She looked at the ground, an expression of bewilderment upon her face. She wasn’t coherent. She was seated upright, but there was no attempt to get to her feet.
King was fading fast. He could barely feel his hands and feet. He sliced himself out of his clothing and tore off the other man’s snowsuit. He got it on, felt the warmth of the other man’s body heat. King pulled on the boots. They were far too small, but he couldn’t feel his feet anyway. He looked at both men. He could clearly see one of the men breathing, although he was starting to shiver now. The other man lay still. King picked up the two utility vests and put them over his shoulder. The AK-74 was empty, so he dropped the magazine to save weight and slung the strap over his neck, letting the weapon dangle. Then he pulled at Caroline, heaved her to her feet.
“Move!” he shouted. She flinched, looked at him like he was mad. “Get moving!” he shouted again. He pushed her forwards and she stumbled on the snow. “Move your arse woman!” This time, he punched her in the kidney and she howled. He did it again. “Move! Left foot, right foot!”
“Stop…”
“Shut up!” he snapped. He jabbed her again. The sharp punch made her wince. But it also got her breathing rapidly, sent the flow of blood around her and spiked her adrenalin. It broke his heart to hurt her, but he didn’t stop there. She floundered, and he punched her other kidney. “Move, woman!”
“Please… stop…”
“What’s my name?” He shoved her hard, kept his hand on her shoulder and pushed her onwards as he broke into a jog. “My name, what is it?”
“Please…”
“My name!” He punched her again and she yelped. “My name, damn it!”
“Alex…”
“Your name?”
She hesitated. “Caroline.”
“Surname?”
“Darby.”
“Age?”
“Thirty-seven…” her answer sharper this time.
“Right, now pick up the pace and breathe only through your nose.”
“Okay,” she said sharply through ragged breath. “But punch me again, and I’ll kick you in the bollocks.”
Behind her, King smiled. “That’s my girl,” he said quietly. “That’s my girl…”
61
“Well, you should have shut the bloody door behind you!”
“I was more concerned about Rashid!”
Ramsay scoffed. “I knew that people in relationships and working together is no bloody good in this game,” he paused. “What were you thinking?”
“I’ll have you know; Rashid and I are not in a relationship, and I was as worried as you that my colleague, and friend, may have been in trouble,” she glared back. “And King and Caroline are working together…”
“And if they weren’t together, then last summer wouldn’t have happened and we wouldn’t bloody well be here!” He looked up as there was a sharp rap on the door. He walked over and opened it a touch, the chain stopping it from opening further than six-inches. He saw Rashid, then stared blankly at him. “What the…?”
“Just let me in.”
Ramsay eased the door to, took off the chain and opened the door. Rashid walked in and Marnie stared at him with the same blank expression as Ramsay had.
“What…”
“Oh, shut up,” he said. “Neil got me all wound up thinking I’d been contaminated with something, so I took precautions…”
“I can see you’ve done something,” she said. “But what precautions were they?”
Rashid walked over to the mirror and sighed. “Well, I scrubbed all over, used a full bar of soap, then I saw the bleach down beside the toilet brush…”
“Oh,” she smiled. She looked at Ramsay, who was trying not to laugh.
Rashid shrugged. “I’ll shave my head.”
“No, don’t,” she said. “Red really suits you.”
“Red?” Ramsay laughed. “How about orange?”
“Ginger?” Marnie countered.
“I like the way it flows,” Ramsay commented. “You’ve done a cracking job at streaking and highlighting. If this intelligence work doesn’t work out for you…”
“Piss off,” Rashid said with a smile. “Anyway, what’s with all the shouting?”
“I didn’t lock the door,” Marnie said. “We rushed to you and while we were charging down the corridors, somebody took the laptop.”
“And the USB that King took off Peter Stewart was still plugged into it.”
“Thanks,” she said succinctly. “But all of it was sent to GCHQ. They can quite easily send the files back.”
“To what?” Ramsay asked laconically.
“I…”
“I’m pretty sure we can use a computer from the hotel,” Rashid interrupted, winking at her. “We can save the data to a cloud facility and delete the files from the hard drive. Marnie, you’re the techie, you should be all over that,” he paused and smiled at her. “And thanks for your concern.”
Marnie smiled and nodded. Her phone sounded in her pocket and she took it out
