Read Online Firewall by Andy McNab - Free Book Online

I doing freezing in this snow hole? I had half a million dollars sitting here with me, from doing something the Firm (Secret Intelligence Service/ SIS would have paid me a couple of hundred a day for. But I couldn't get at it. My only hope of ever seeing it was Sergei, and fuck knew where he was.
    Val knew when to talk and when to shut up and let people think, I went back to watching the house for another hour or so, getting even more cold and miserable.
    I was slowly convincing myself that, if Sergei didn't make an appearance, I should take my chances with Val in London. Why not? It wasn't as if I had anything to lose, and I was desperate for the paycheck.
    I could only hear the faint noise of the engine at first. It was tucked into the trees somewhere on the track and fighting to be heard above the wind. Then headlights appeared out of the treeline, heading toward the house. The noise got louder as it moved along the track. It was a 4x4 in low ratio. Sergei? It was impossible to tell if it was the Nissan from this distance.
    Val had also heard it, and was keeping still so his jacket didn't rustle and drown out the noise.
    I watched the headlights briefly illuminate the front of the house before turning into the garage and cutting out.
    I heard just one door slam and my eyes moved to the windows. I saw nothing.
    I slid over to Val. Passively, he let me check his plasticuffs. They were secure; he wasn't going anywhere unless he happened to have a chainsaw hidden inside his coat. All the same, I wished I'd brought some tape to cover his mouth in case he decided to shout for help. It wasn't until I blew out the candle, so he couldn't use it to burn the cuffs off, and started to push my way out of the snow, that he sparked up. "Nick?"
    I stopped but didn't turn. "What?"
    "Think about what I have said as you go to meet your friends. My offer is infinitely more profitable for you, and, may I say, safer."
    "We'll see." I pushed myself out into the wind and was very much thinking about it, glad that Val wasn't going to scream and shout out.
    He knew what was happening. If it was Sergei at the house, Val could forget his offer. By the morning we would be in St. Petersburg and I'd have my money and be on my way back to London.
    As I retraced my route the wind was blowing head on, making my eyes stream. I could feel my tears turn to ice. I listened to the trees creak in the gale. Snow, whipped into a frenzy, attacked the exposed skin around my neck and face as I tried to focus on the house and surrounding area.
    Kicking on about sixty feet, I checked the house again. The upstairs lights were on now, but there was still no movement inside. Moving off once more, I tried not to get too euphoric about the prospect of Sergei being there, but the feeling that this job could soon be over made the wind seem marginally less powerful.
    Once below the sauna, on the lake, I pulled my trigger finger from its glove and pulled out the 88. It was far too dark to see with the naked eye, so I checked chamber with my exposed finger and ensured the mag was on tight, then climbed up onto the bank and moved forward in a semi crouch until I got to the garage entrance.
    I was eager to make contact with Sergei, but had to take things slowly.
    Only when I actually saw him would I feel safe.
    I stood and listened at the garage door, not hearing anything apart from the sound of the wind bouncing it backward against the lock.
    Keeping to the right of the frame, I pulled the metal handle down and the wind did the rest, forcing it inward. Fortunately, the bottom scraped along the ground, preventing it from crashing into the woodpile.
    On my hands and knees in the snow, I eased my head round the bottom of the door frame.
    The Nissan was parked the other side of the Volvo, the light from the ground-floor window reflecting off its roof. Things were looking up, but I'd have to wait a while before jumping with joy.
    I moved into the garage and checked that no one was