Read Online Edge of Danger by Jack Higgins - Free Book Online Page B

the coat, buttoned it up, and whistled to Murchison. ‘Come on, boy.’
    He went down the steps and started to jog, the dog at his heels. Clancy Smith adjusted his earpiece, transferred his favourite old Browning from his shoulder holster to his right-hand pocket, and went after them.
    Aidan Bell was not far off in his calculations and, helped by the strong current, they entered the estuary leading to the marsh in fifty minutes. It was a salt marsh, of course, a magnificent wilderness of tall reeds, deep water channels, mudflats, and birds of every description, who rose angrily as the Dolphin surfaced.
    Bell coasted onto a sloping sandbank, then he and Casey dismounted, eased the Dolphin forward and got rid of their jackets and air bottles. All this was done in silence. Finally, Bell undipped the weaponry bag, handed Casey an AK assault rifle and Browning, and took out his own. They stood there, strangely medieval in their black diving suits.
    Bell said, ‘One thing we know is that he always runs before breakfast. That could mean he’s halfway round the roads already or that he’ll turn up at any minute. But there’s only one main road
    from the house leading to the marsh network. I’d say three or four hundred yards. We wait there -we’re bound to get him either going in or coming out - so let’s move in.’
    He turned and led the way through the reeds, feeling cool, calm, and completely unemotional.
    Jake Cazalet, Clancy and Murchison were running fast now in the heavy driving rain, and the President was enjoying every minute of it. As he had said more than once, it washed the years away, and with the world as it was, he could certainly do with that.
    Murchison ran strongly at his heel, Clancy was five yards back, and he paused on an old plank bridge that was roofed over, a temporary shelter from the rain.
    ‘You okay, Mr President?’ Clancy asked.
    ‘Fine. I’ll have the usual.’
    Clancy produced a packet of Marlboros, lit two and passed one to Cazalet, who took it and inhaled with deep pleasure.
    ‘Don’t let any press photographers see you doing that, Mr President.’
    ‘Hell, I’m entitled to one weakness. These things
    got me through Vietnam and you through the Gulf.’
    ‘They surely did,’ Clancy agreed.
    They smoked in companionable silence, then ground out their cigarette butts. ‘Let’s go,’ Cazalet said, and led the way out into the rain, breaking into a run again.
    Hidden in the reeds beside the main road, Bell saw them coming. He whispered loudly across to Casey, who was on the other side.
    ‘There they are. Get ready. You take the Secret Serviceman, I’ll have the President, and don’t be too eager. Take your time.’
    He waited. There was no need for a long shot when it could be done virtually at point-blank range. He raised the AK to his shoulder, and Cazalet ran directly toward him.
    And as Bell had told Kate Rashid, how often the best-laid schemes could go wrong. He’d planned meticulously, every contingency foreseen, except for the instincts of a flatcoat retriever named Murchison. With that special extra facility known
     
    only to dogs, he sensed something wrong, took off like a rocket and plunged into the reeds on the other side of the road.
    Casey lurched out into the open, struggling to cope with the fact that Murchison had him by the left ankle, and his AK discharged.
    Jake Cazalet stopped running some twenty-five yards away and Aidan Bell stayed hidden and took aim, but Clancy Smith was fast. In the same moment, he knocked the President sideways and took the bullet that Bell had intended for Cazalet in his right shoulder.
    He staggered but never wavered. ‘Take coyer, Mr President,’ he cried and shoved Cazalet down into the shelter of the reeds.
    Cazalet gave a piercing whistle and, a moment later, Murchison joined them. There was blood in quantity pouring from the rent in Smith’s yellow oilskin jacket.
    ‘Is it bad?’ Cazalet asked.
    ‘I’ll be all right. You’d