Read Online Blood Sun by David Gilman - Free Book Online Page B

Rover. Exactly! The one that nearly hit Sayid. These were the same men and they were still out here.
    Drew had sunk down to the top of his chest; there was no chance of using his arms except to spread them out—to delay the inevitable.
    “I dunno, boy. Your pal Maguire. He found out stuff.…”
    “What stuff?” Max asked desperately. The sound of the engine was closer; it must be just over the rise of the hill behind them.
    “Dunno! Kid! C’mon! Throw me something! Hurry, dammit!”
    “What did he find out?”
    A beam of light cut through the night sky. Whatever it was coming across the hills wasn’t using its headlights yet, but it had a powerful searchlight. The kind lampers use to hunt foxes.
    Drew never thought he would die like this. Not chasing a kid on Dartmoor. Not being swallowed alive. “They don’t tell me things like that! I don’t get the details! Y’understand? Please!” Drew had heard men beg before they died but had never expected to hear a plea for life escape from his own lips.
    A part of the hillside moved, its lightsaber beam sweeping across them. Max clambered onto the bike.
    “Your mate can save you!” he yelled, hoping the man’s rescue would buy him time. And then he was gone into the night as Drew spluttered a desperate cry.
    “No, he won’t! Kid! He won’t! He won’t help me!” But Max had moved quickly and was already out of earshot.
    Moments later the Range Rover stopped. Stanton swung the side-mounted searchlight across the landscape. There was no sign of Max Gordon. He brought the beam to bear on the deceptive land. He couldn’t drive any closer, but he could throw Drew a rope and haul him out.
    The light settled on his partner. Drew was up to his neck. Gasping.
    “Riga, c’mon! Get me outta here!”
    Stanton ignored the use of his professional name. It made no difference what anyone called him. He was who he was.
    Drew was choking now. The slime was over his chin; his arms reached for the night sky. The beam of light blinded him.
    “Pl … ea … se … For God’s … sake …”
    Stanton watched the last slurp of foul liquid take the man’s face. His fingers curled in a final desperate clutch at life. And then they, too, slid below the surface.
    “Maybe now you’ll stop whining,” Stanton said quietly to himself.
    Exeter St. Davids was the mainline station to London Padding-ton. Some of the trains labored for hours from Penzance at the tip of the country. If they were lucky and everything was working as it should, passengers might have had a hot bacon roll and coffee from the buffet car. By the time the train, itstinted windows veiling the dull glow of light from inside the carriages, rolled into Exeter, Max was waiting—and the smell of the cooked food made his mouth water as the carriage glided past.
    Thirty minutes earlier he had stood at the ticket desk, aware that a CCTV camera was in the corner. With barely a glance over his shoulder, he kept his back to the cold-eyed lens. There were others at various points on the platform. Max had already stored Sayid’s bike, making sure the padlock and chain were in place. Now all he had to do was mingle with the crowd of commuters.
    The train squealed to a halt. Doors opened; a few students, who used the intercity as a local train for a few stops, got out. Doors slammed. The train manager waved to the front of the train, and the driver eased the brakes. Two minutes after arriving, the train was gone.
    And so was Max.
    Fergus Jackson paced his study. Bob Ridgeway’s MI5 agent would be here any minute, and Mr. Jackson was even more worried than the previous night. Max Gordon was missing. Jackson had assembled the twenty or so boys in the staff room under the watchful eye of the four teachers who had stayed on at the school during half-term.
    Sayid Khalif had denied all knowledge of anything Max might have done or where he might have gone. Even Sayid’s mother could not get any information from him. No one