He did as she said. But as he opened the door, a bundle of white shot outside and tore across the car park.
Carl paused.
‘Fuck the dog, get in the fucking car!’
He climbed inside. The dog, meanwhile, was peeing against one of the wheelie bins. Dan watched it scamper to Lucy who bent down, he thought to pet it, but instead she put her hand on its collar and hauled it up.
‘Whose dog is this?’
‘Put the dog down.’ Amari sounded weary.
‘Let Dan walk.’
Amari looked at the two men. ‘Do it.’
The moment the men’s hands fell from him, Dan walked forward, towards Lucy, his body tense, ready to sprint or fight. There were three of them: Carl, Lucy and him. And just four of them on the other side. The men weren’t much. They may have tasers but they were nothing more than a couple of hired heavies with more brawn than brains. However, Amari was another matter. She had the gun. And what about the person in the car? Carl had left the door open but all Dan could see of the driver was a shadow.
‘Let the dog go!’ Amari yelled at Lucy.
Lucy was dangling the fluffy bundle high. ‘Not until Dan’s here.’
No time to think how laughable the situation was. No time for anything but what was happening in the moment, right now. Dan knew the pistol Amari was holding. It was a Beretta. It had a fifteen-round magazine which, if full, would be useful. He glanced at the thugs over his shoulder. They were standing there, feeling good that the guy they wanted was in the car and that Dan was walking away. Everything was going according to plan. He could see they were already relaxing, probably thinking about having a smoke, a bit of a laugh to release any vestiges of tension.
As Dan passed Amari, she didn’t look at him. She was distracted by Lucy and the dog. She was agitated, the gun wavering between him and Lucy.
Perfect.
As the gun returned to fix on Lucy, Dan yelled to Lucy: ‘Run!’ and at the same time he planted his left foot hard on the ground and spun for Amari.
61
As fast as a snake Dan was upon Amari, snapping the pistol from her grip, pushing her aside so violently she flew to the ground. Keeping his posture low, legs spread and firm, Dan swept the gun smoothly to the two thugs. Fired twice. Swung back to Amari who was scrambling to her feet, screaming.
The two thugs were on the ground. Lucy had dropped the dog and was sprinting hell for leather back where she’d come from.
Dan pointed the pistol at Amari. ‘Shut up.’
She fell quiet but her eyes were alive with fury.
‘Carl,’ he called. ‘Come out.’
‘Can’t. I’ve got a gun on me.’
Dan grabbed Amari and put his left arm around her throat. Pulled her close against his chest. Pressed the gun against her temple. She was whimpering.
‘Throw your weapon out,’ he commanded. ‘Or I will shoot her.’
Nothing happened.
‘Don’t think I won’t do it because she’s a woman.’
Amari wriggled and he tightened his grip, making her choke.
‘You don’t know who I am,’ Dan called. ‘You don’t know my history, who I was before I became a civilian. Because you don’t know this, you get one more chance before I shoot this woman and come after you.’
Dan waited three seconds. He knew he had no choice. Not if he was going to save Lucy’s father.
He twisted Amari to the left, pressed the barrel of the gun against her arm and fired.
She screamed. A single, long drawn-out piercing shriek of shock and pain.
He held her tightly as she doubled over, clutching her arm, half-screaming, half-sobbing.
One of the men, he saw, was crawling away. The other lay still. Blood was seeping from his chest. No sign of Lucy, thank God.
The Range Rover’s engine started.
Amari fell absolutely still.
Carl pulled his door shut. The vehicle engaged gear and surged forward. It was driving for the dog, Dan realised, which was trotting towards the vehicle.
‘What the fuck?’ Amari said.
When the car door opened to let the dog in, Dan pushed Amari aside and sprinted for the vehicle. The dog was now inside, all doors shut, and as he heard the roar of the engine, the driver pushing their foot on the accelerator, Dan ran as hard as he could. Then he stopped. Took up a classic shooter’s stance. Steadied himself. He sent his gaze down the barrel of the pistol. Held his breath. And began firing.
One, the near rear tyre.
Two, the far rear tyre.
Three, the far front tyre, which was just visible.
Four, the rear windscreen.
Five, to the right of the rear windscreen, to try and hit the driver.
Six, ditto.
Seven, ditto.
The Range Rover veered wildly to the right and slammed into a row of wheelie bins.
Six rounds left.
Dan raced over. He saw Lucy out of the corner of his eyes and yelled, ‘Stay back!’
Crouching low, he pulled open the passenger door. Carl lunged outside. He was white-faced, shocked.
Dan grabbed him, shoved him away from the car. ‘Go to Lucy.’
He heard the man stumble away.
Both hands on his weapon, Dan crouched beside the passenger door.
‘Throw out your weapon.’
Nothing.
‘Throw it out, or I will shoot you. You’ve got three seconds. One. Two…’
A pistol came flying past him. Clattered to the ground.
‘Lucy!’ he shouted. ‘Grab the gun, would you?’
62
Lucy stuck a finger in her father’s face. ‘You stay here and you do not move.’
He nodded.
She jogged to the Range Rover, where Dan was crouched, weapon at the ready in case the driver did something stupid. Like launch themself from the car, shooting with a backup gun.
Lucy grabbed the gun from the ground. A Glock. Easy to use. No fiddling about with having to cock hammers or anything. You just pointed it and pulled the trigger.
‘Come out,’ Dan commanded the driver.
The click of a latch
