The Balance of Guilt (35 page)

Authors: Simon Hall

BOOK: The Balance of Guilt

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He let out a long breath, then said, ‘And here’s the problem. The bloody thing’s jammed. Maybe it’s where I’ve hit the ground, maybe it’s the dust and smoke. And this guy’s walking towards me, shooting people dead all around, and I’ve got no gun. And then it gets even better. I see he’s got a suicide belt on too. He’s going to take himself out and as many people as he can as well. And you know what? I bet you think I’m going to tell you I wasn’t scared, I just did my duty. Well, that’s bollocks. I was shitting myself. I was shaking and I was crying and I was saying goodbye to my wife and kids and all my family. Even spies have them, you know. I was more frightened than I’d ever been in my fucking life.’

The spy’s voice was trembling now. He swallowed hard, twitched and dabbed at the sweat on his forehead.

‘He was still walking towards me. I was crouched down by the car. And when he came up alongside, I leapt out. I managed to knock the gun away. And then I grabbed for his hands, to stop him detonating the belt. But the bastard was strong. They work out before they go on these missions, you know. They get trained. It’s a bloody profession to them. I had hold of his hands, but I couldn’t keep my grip. I just wanted the police or army to get there, to shoot the bastard. But his hand was almost on the cord. It was getting closer and closer. I couldn’t stop him. I knew I was going to die. And then he pulled it and that was all I remember.’

Oscar was panting hard and scratched once more at the scar. It was inflamed a vivid red now. He got up from the chair and pushed it away with a jarring scrape. Dan felt his body tense, but the spy didn’t approach, just paced over to the sink, ran some water and splashed it onto his face.

He walked back to the door and reached for the handle.

‘I was lucky,’ he said. ‘Only part of the bomb went off. The detonator. Hence the scar. The army arrived, shot him and got me to hospital. A few months later and I was OK. Back to work. Back to Britain. As if nothing had happened. As if …’

Oscar opened the door, went to walk out, but hesitated. Half of his face was in shadow, half in the light.

‘The ring of terrorists we were trying to break, the ones we hoped Ahmed might lead us to – before you got in the way. They’re some of the worst we’ve ever gone up against. They want to carry out the vilest attack Britain’s ever seen. A glorious atrocity to shock the world and teach the west a lesson it’ll never forget.’

The spy’s hand was tight on the door handle. There was one final pause and he added, ‘Our intelligence says they’re planning to attack a primary school.’

He stared for a second, then walked out. The door clicked closed. Dan lay back on his pillows and let out a very long breath. He noticed he was trembling. He shut his eyes and tried to stop himself thinking about what Oscar had said, but couldn’t. The sterile hospital room had filled with the screams of dying children.

He got up, poured himself a glass of water, then another and gazed out of the window at the last light of the day. The sun was sinking fast now, just a red segment left lingering over the distant hills.

Dan walked back to the bed, thinking of Ahmed, John Tanton, Sierra and Oscar, the spy’s story of the attack on the Israeli school, and his own role in the extraordinary events of the last few days.

He picked up the diary. He had the title now.

In an unsteady hand, Dan slowly wrote,
The Balance of Guilt.

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