Midnight Runner by Jack Higgins Read Free Book Online

trooper stood up behind a mounted machine gun and another drove, while Quinn, wearing a combat jacket, sat in the rear beside a Corporal of Horse--the equivalent of a Sergeant in other units--named Varley.
    It started to rain. There was smoke in the air, acrid in the damp, from houses still burning. There was no sign of the population.
    Varley said, "It looks like that same Albanian flying column's been here, too."
    "Could we be in trouble?"
    "Probably not, as long as we fly that." Varley nodded to the Union Jack pennant mounted at the side of the engine.
    "I noticed you don't fly the U.N. flag or wear their blue berets."
    "We go our own way. It works better. They don't think of us as taking sides."
    "That makes sense."
    He heard the throb of a helicopter overhead, unseen in the mist and rain. It reminded him at once of Vietnam, and it brought back the unmistakable smell that only came from burning flesh, once experienced, never forgotten. It was almost too much for Quinn as a hundred memories, dormant for years, came flooding back.
    The driver braked and switched off the engine. It was very silent in the rain, the sound of the helicopter fading.
    "Bodies, Corporal."
    Varley stood and so did Quinn. There were half a dozen of them: a man and a woman and three children, another body facedown some yards away.
    "Looks like a family party, all gunned down together." Varley shook his head. "Bastards. I've seen bad things in my time, but this bloody place beats the lot." He turned to the trooper at the machine gun. "Cover us while we move them. We can't very well drive over them."
    "I'll help," Quinn told him.
    He and Varley and the driver got out and approached the bodies, and for Quinn it really was Vietnam all over again, as if nothing had happened in between. He picked up one of the children, a boy who looked about eight, and took him to the side of the street, laying him down against a wall. Behind him, Varley and the trooper followed with a child each.
    Quinn felt dreadful, the darkness creeping into him from deep inside, as Varley and the trooper picked up the man between them, carried him to the wall, then returned for the woman.
    He took a deep breath and went to the other body, which was dressed in boots, baggy pants, an old combat jacket, and a woolen hat. It had obviously been shot in the back. He turned the body over and recoiled in horror as he looked into the mud-spattered face of a young woman. The eyes were open, fixed in death. She was perhaps twenty-one or two. She could have been his own daughter.
    Varley called, "You need a hand, Senator?"
    "No, I can manage."
    Quinn knelt, picked the girl up, and stood. He walked to the wall and sat her down so that she was against it. He took out a handkerchief and carefully wiped the mud from the face, then closed the eyelids, stood up, walked away, leaned against the wall, and was violently sick.
    The trooper with Varley said, "Bloody politicians. Maybe it does them good to see some real shit for a change."
    Varley grabbed his arm and squeezed hard. "Thirty years ago, while serving with the Special Forces in Vietnam, that 'bloody politician' won the Congressional Medal of Honor. So why don't you just button your lip and get us out of here?"
    The trooper slid behind the wheel, Varley and Quinn got in the rear, and they moved out. The Corporal of Horse said, "You know what we do in London, don't you, Senator? The Household Cavalry? We ride around in breastplates and helmets with plumes and sabers, and the tourists love us. The British public, too. They think that's all we are: chocolate soldiers. So why did I serve in the Falklands at nineteen, in the Gulf War and Bosnia, and now this shit heap?"
    "So the great British public is misinformed."
    Varley produced a half bottle from his pocket. "Would you like some brandy, Senator? It's strictly against regimental regulations, but medicinal on occasion. Even though it is rotgut."
    It burned all the way down, and Quinn coughed and