Chapter 50

On the edge of the tower roof, on the side facing away from the city, was a square hatch secured with a padlock.

‘Cover me,’ Cardinal said. Heathy already had the shotgun trained on Harry and Jess. Cardinal fished in his pockets for his keys. He fumbled them, and they clanged against the steel. Cardinal got on his knees, found the key and unlocked the hatch.

He pulled the cover back, letting it bang against the top of the tower.

‘Pass me the backpack,’ he said to Heathy.

Cardinal fished out a torch and handed it to Harry.

‘Down you go,’ Cardinal said. ‘No fucking about, mate. You know what will happen to Jess if you do. I’ve killed so many people, a couple more won’t make any difference.’

Harry shone the torch through the hatch, down into the dark­ness. There were handholds, leading to the bottom of the tank.

Again he felt fear. What if the documents weren’t here any more? Why hadn’t Cardinal found them already? But there was no way back now. Just down.

Harry shuffled through the hatch, slotting his feet into the holds, trying to ignore the sick pulsing pain in his back. With the torch shoved in his back pocket he climbed down, feeling his way. After the cacophony of the storm, it was silent down here. He stepped off the bottom rung into a thick layer of silt, which puffed up around his feet. Dirt that had been in the water maybe, or the result of the tank decaying from the inside out. He pulled out the torch and shone it around, noting the footprints and holes in the silt from a previous search. Amazingly, there was life down here. Moss, fungi, surviving on a tiny amount of light and moisture. Life goes on, Harry thought.

He looked up as Cardinal clambered down, awkwardly holding on one-handed so he could wave the pistol at Harry. Again, Harry could feel Rob back there, assessing the situation, looking for a way out that didn’t involve sacrificing any more innocent lives.

‘Look at me,’ Cardinal said when he reached the bottom, pressing the gun against Harry’s chest. His voice echoed so much Harry could barely understand him. Cardinal was wet, bedraggled; hair messed up. He looked less like the politician, and more like the intel officer wreaking havoc in Helmand. He thrust Harry against the side of the water tower, and grabbed his chin.

‘You in there, Rob? Hello? You never really got it, did you? Power. You were good at sneaking around and taking out towel­heads from a distance, but you couldn’t handle the true dirty work.

‘You made the mistake of thinking life is a team sport when it’s really one-on-one contact. Everyone is your enemy. Until you can understand that, you’ll never win.’

He thrust Harry’s head to one side.

‘Come on, then,’ Cardinal said. ‘Commune with the spirit world.’

The tattoos warmed Harry’s skin. The torch flickered. In that moment of darkness, Harry saw a familiar blue glow. He closed his eyes, remembering the night he and Jess made love. The sensation of seeing the world through two sets of eyes. He dropped into Rob’s breathing routine, then lowered himself to his hands and knees.

Dust tickled his nostrils. He ignored it. Cardinal paced and cursed and fired more threats at him. Harry shut him out. He would wait. He had to wait. Like Harry, Cardinal was out of options.

A sensation of weightlessness filled him. In his mind’s eye he saw himself floating out of his body, looking down on himself. No, not himself. Rob. Rob, dressed in a tight green t-shirt and jeans. Next to him was a package, wrapped in black plastic and sealed with silver duct tape. There was a bag and some tools, and a circle of metal about the size of an open umbrella.

Harry dug into the dirt by his feet, his back pulsing in pain. Eventually, he revealed a round piece of metal, riveted to the bottom of the tank.

Harry opened his eyes and looked up. ‘Your knife. Give me your knife.’

Cardinal laughed. ‘Are you fucking crazy?’

‘It’s where the water used to flow,’ he said. ‘They covered it when the tank was decommissioned. You want the documents, then I need your knife.’

Cardinal reached into his pants pocket and threw Harry the knife. He moved a couple of steps back and brandished the gun.

Harry unfolded the blade. Again Rob assessed the situation. There was a small chance he could get to Cardinal without being shot. An even smaller chance he could get to Cardinal without a shot being fired. No chance of getting out of the tank without Heathy blowing his head off and murdering Jess. He turned back to the base of the water tank and slipped the knife blade under the edge of the metal, twisting to lever it up. Eventually, he made a gap big enough to get his fingers into.

From above: ‘Boss?’ The echo: osssss, ossss, ossss.

Harry looked up and saw Heathy peering down into the tank, dripping with rainwater. Cardinal cursed. ‘Yeah, hang on.’

Harry put the knife down and heaved on the plate, biting back a scream. It came loose with a loud shriek. He slid it to one side. In the shallow cavity sat a rectangular package, wrapped in black plastic and sealed with duct tape.

‘Open it,’ Cardinal said.

‘Boss!’

‘Yes! For fuck’s sake! I see your face again and I’ll put a bullet in it!’

Harry took the knife and slid it through the plastic. A large, metallic-green fire-proof document case. Harry wiped his forehead.

Cardinal dumped the backpack at his feet. ‘Get it in there and let’s move.’

Harry loaded the case into the backpack. He reached again for the knife but Cardinal got to it first, closing the blade and slipping it back into his pocket. Harry grimaced as he slung the pack over his shoulder. His pain-wracked body was drenched in sweat.

‘Come on!’ Cardinal’s eyes gleamed in the darkness.

Harry’s feet clanged on the ladder rungs as he ascended. He’d never felt so tired or defeated.