The Vengeance Man by John Macrae Read Free Book Online

given you piles.  And in answer to your question, no, I'm not all right. I've got some kind of trots bug."
    "No stamina,  you Limeys.   Didn't I tell you were full of shit?    C'mon, I'll give you a hand with your gear.  You got the…?"
    I gestured to the ammunition box in the back of the Rover.  "It's all there."
    Two Turk Gendarmerie dragged the priceless box of secret Iranian signals documents to the helicopter.  Twelve men died in the comcen at Hasak for that box, I thought as they struggled to lift the dead weight into the door.  I remembered the obscene purple of the Iranian officer's intestines bulging out his stomach by blast when we had burst into the comcen, but he was still alive and still screaming.  He'd still been fighting too.  He'd even tried to raise a pistol as I rolled in the door.  Either he was slow or I was fast, but I had blown his brains all over the walls and floor with a double tap of the Steyr.  Perhaps he really was a hero? Well, he was a dead one now.
    Silently we transferred my kit, the precious box of classified documents from the Hasak Comcen and my satellite radio to the helicopter cabin.   A dark, tough looking Turkish captain got out, spoke to Sal, who nodded, and then  the captain prepared to take my place in the Rover, scowling at the two Kurds. Nusret and Yusif stared back uncomprehendingly.
    "What's the score?"  I asked. Sal pulled a face.
    "You guys are kinda bad news at the moment.  Persona non grata , if you get my drift."  He gestured to the two Kurdish scouts. "Particularly Mickey and Minnie Mouse here.  TGS does not want to see their ass for a long time.   Captain Suleiman here will drive them to the border, pay them off, then blitz the Rover until it's a crisp.  We'll  send the taxi back for him. That way nobody points the finger at Ankara. The only reason they’ve gone along with using Kurds is because it keeps their noses nice and clean. You're out on a NATO flight tomorrow for Ramstein.  With a big paper bag over your head, if you get my meaning."
    "No. No.  You've got to let these two run, Sal.  At least let me pay them off. "
    On an impulse I pulled the heavy leather bag from my pouch and pressed it into Nusret's hand. "Some fruits I saved for hard times, Nusret," I said, winking at Yusif. "In English we say we save for a rainy day."    They stared at me, baffled.
    Sal looked on, blankly.    The Turkish captain looked impatiently at his watch. I turned to him and tried English on him.
    "You should know this, Captain Suleiman. Nusret and Yusif are as brothers to me. They are free men and have served both Turkey and my country well.  It was the wish of both our governments that they go free, with the Landrover and all its contents."  I repeated it in dialect for the benefit of the two Kurds.
    The captain seemed doubtful. " I must check," he said in English, walking to the helicopter and its radio.
    Sal shook his head. "They won't buy it.  You guys are about as popular as a fart in an elevator. They just want it all to go away. Even the Regional District commander doesn’t know you're here.  This is Ankara level stuff. Back off."
    "Thank you, Ingleezi," said Yusif. He gestured at the Landrover and its dusty contents. Nusret was rummaging in the bag and suddenly looked up, eyes widening. "Ssh!" I put my finger to my lips and looked warningly at the captain's back.  Nusret shook his head slowly in wonder, then showed Yusif the bag with its five hundred gold sovereigns. Yusif's startled face looked up sharply. Sal sighed. "You're crazy.  How the hell are you gonna account for all this? Say you lost it?”  His voice rose. “They'll lock you in London Tower or something..."
    The Captain came back.  "They can go, " he shrugged.  He seemed surprised.  To tell the truth, so was I.   "MoD Ankara  says their contract is ended.  TGS will deny their existence .  The Landrover does not belong to the Turkish government. It was illegally