Cold Kill by Stephen Leather Read Free Book Online

‘Back!’
    A face appeared at the hatch. One of the Iranians. Pepper ordered him to climb out and join the others on the deck.
    ‘Andy, you can’t let him do this!’ shouted Corke. The boat lurched to starboard and water spilled over the deck, soaking the legs of his jeans. The door to the bridge slammed behind him.
    ‘He’s the one with the gun!’ bellowed Mosley.
    ‘It’s not about the gun,’ said Corke. ‘It’s about throwing innocent men, women and children into the sea. That’s murder, Andy. Cold-blooded murder, gun or no gun.’
    ‘They’re scum!’ shouted Pepper. ‘I’m not going to prison for scum. The navy are on the way – they’ll pick them up.’ He grabbed the Iranian by his coat collar. ‘You! Over the side!’
    ‘Even if they can swim the cold’ll kill them in five minutes,’ protested Corke.
    Pepper waved the gun in his face. ‘Do you want to join them? Because I’m easy either way.’
    ‘I’m not going to let you kill them,’ said Corke, taking a step towards him.
    Pepper’s finger tightened on the trigger.
    Corke stared at him. ‘You’d better be good with that thing,’ he said, his voice barely audible over the sound of the waves hitting the side of the boat. ‘Hard enough on a range, but hitting a target on a moving ship takes some doing. Doubt you’ll do it with one shot. What’s the clip hold? Thirteen? Thirteen shots, thirty-four people. Plus me, of course. The numbers don’t work, Chilli.’
    The captain grinned and reached into his pea coat with his left hand. He pulled out a loaded clip.
    Corke’s face tightened.
    ‘Not so confident now, are we?’ said Pepper. ‘Now, you’ve got two choices. Back on the bridge and keep us heading west, or you take your chances over the side with them. With or without a bullet.’
    Corke looked at Mosley, who was staring white-faced at the gun.
    ‘Andy?’
    He said nothing.
    Pepper snarled and took step towards Corke. One of the men was pleading in a language that sounded like Russian. Pepper ignored him and kept the gun aimed at Corke. He knew the man was about to fire and that there was nothing he could do to stop him. He had no weapon, nothing to fight with, nothing to throw as a distraction, and the heavy clothing and boots he was wearing meant there was no way he could reach Pepper before he pulled the trigger.
    His stomach heaved as the deck slammed upwards. He staggered back against the bridge door. Pepper almost lost his balance but stayed on his feet and kept the gun on him. The bow pointed almost straight up into the night sky and, for a second, Corke was weightless before it crashed into the sea. He fell to the deck and rolled over, slipped as he tried to get to his feet and hit the deck again.
    The boat tipped to starboard and Corke slammed into the guardrail. He grabbed for it and hauled himself up.
    ‘Get back to the bridge!’ screamed Pepper. ‘The sea’s too rough for the autopilot!’ He fired the gun and a bullet cracked through the air. ‘The next one is in your head!’
    ‘Do as he says!’ howled Mosley. ‘He means it!’
    The ship rolled to port and Corke gripped the rail, fighting to stay upright. Pepper laughed. ‘Call yourself a sailor,’ he sneered.
    One of the male passengers yelled and Corke turned in time to see the little girl fall over the guardrail. Her mother shrieked and lunged for her but it was too late. The child was gone.
    Corke rushed across the deck as the bow rose again. Pepper fired at him but the boat lurched and the shot went wide. Corke hit him with his shoulder, knocking him off-balance, then kicked out at his left leg, catching him behind the knee. As Pepper went down, Corke slashed him across the throat with the edge of his hand. Pepper pitched face down on to the deck.
    The two women were screaming, eyes wide with horror. Corke reached them and looked over the side. He saw a flash of white. The child’s face. Two white blurs. Her hands. He swore. Then he ripped off