Page 58 of Nobody's Hero

Stupid weapons and stupid armour. That was good.

But they weren’t firing yet. Hadn’t even raised their weapons. As it was with Uzis, conserving ammunition was important with Spectres. One undisciplined burst and you were empty. Not firing while they weren’t in effective range indicated they weren’t as stupid as he’d thought. Thatwasn’tgood.

Koenig couldn’t see a way out. The men in body armour would walk right up to where they were taking cover. Lay down suppressing fire, then shoot them like they were pigs in a poke.

‘I don’t suppose you have anything bigger on the plane?’ he said. He waved his SIG in the air. ‘I kinda feel outmatched with this.’

‘If we can make it on to the plane, we’re taking off,’ Draper said.

‘They shot your pilot in the head,’ Koenig reminded her. ‘Unless you know how to fly a—’

‘This is a transatlantic flight, dickhead,’ she snapped. ‘There’s a copilot onboard. He’s probably locked himself in the can, but he’s in there somewhere.’

‘You have another pilot?’

‘Of course I have another pilot. It’s the law.’

Koenig thought for a moment. ‘Well, this changes everything,’ he said.

He stood up.

Chapter 62

Koenig jogged over to the Jag. One of the men in black stopped, raised his Spectre and loosed off a burst. The bullets missed him by a good five yards. Fell between the car and the now groaning fuel guy. Which was interesting. Koenig was a big enough target, and he hadn’t been sprinting. Perhaps the suits weren’t all mashed potato and gravy. Maybe the anti-flash goggles restricted the field of vision. Maybe the heavy armour reduced manoeuvrability. Slowed reaction time. It was something to think about.

He knelt by the open window. Margaret was lying on the back seat. Carlyle was hunkered in the footwell. They seemed alert. Margaret looked terrified. Carlyle looked angry.

‘You guys OK?’ he said.

‘We are, dear,’ Margaret said. ‘You?’

‘Having a great day, thanks.’

‘And your vexatious friend?’

‘In her element.’

‘What’s happening?’ Carlyle asked.

‘They’ve killed the pilot,’ Koenig replied. ‘Jen’s using him as a sandbag.’

‘I meant what’s happeningnow?’

‘We have men in advanced body armour about to start spraying us with bullets from vastly superior weapons.’

‘What’s the plan?’

‘I’m going to annoy them,’ Koenig said. ‘As soon as they start shooting at me, I need you to get Margaret on the plane. Jen will lay down as much cover as she can.’

‘Leave me behind, dear,’ Margaret said.

‘Not a chance, Grandma. I gave you my word.’

‘Is there help coming?’ Carlyle asked.

‘Not unless Jen’s called in an air strike.’

‘Then why do you want us on the plane?’ Margaret asked. ‘The pilot’s dead.’