The Watchman

Thirty-Nine

Pryce and Tober listened as the talk went on above their heads. The voices were muted by the thickness of the floor between them, but it was evident that somebody important had arrived and that feelings among the men upstairs were running high, like a charge of electricity.

‘Musa,’ said Angela. She automatically looked towards Tober, although it was so dark down here that she needn’t have bothered. And the flashlight had to be saved for later.

‘I reckon,’ Tober agreed. ‘Excitable bunch, aren’t they? I’m wondering what the gunfire was about.’

Angela waited for him to say more, but he didn’t. She took it as a bad sign.

‘You don’t think this is going to end well, do you?’

‘If I was a betting man, I wouldn’t expect good odds, no.’ His voice was surprisingly calm, and she wondered how he managed it. She had worked with others like him before, but not in situations quite like this. It made her realize that she had been incredibly naïve to have gone into this so willingly. What the hell had she been thinking? She gripped her fists tight to prevent a tremor running through them, and was glad of the darkness to hide in. What chances of a career progression now, she thought? ‘Is there going to be any backup?’

A short silence. ‘I wouldn’t count on it. You know what Moresby said.’

‘Yes.’ Moresby had said they would not be in any danger. Assurances had been given by Xasan and the people behind him that their safety would be guaranteed. That all they were doing was talking. Negotiating. Even so, there was a chance, wasn’t there?

‘So we’ll join the hostages.’

‘Most likely.’

She felt a ripple of irritation at the brevity of his responses. ‘You don’t talk much, do you?’

‘Never felt the need. Why — do you think talk will get us out of here?’

‘No. I don’t. But it might help … to … help.’

She heard a shuffle in the dark, and then felt Tober’s presence alongside her. He didn’t touch her, but stayed a heartbeat away.

‘This any help?’

She smiled and felt reassured. It was enough, under the circumstances.

‘Sorry.’

‘Don’t sweat it. First op I went on I pissed myself.’

She didn’t believe him but said, ‘Aren’t you scared about what might happen?’

‘A bit. But scared is good; it makes you ready for fight and flight. You give in to fear and you might as well lie down and die.’ He touched her shoulder. ‘Be ready, that’s all. When the time comes, you might get one chance only. If it comes, take it and go.’

‘I will if you will.’ She touched his hand, grateful for the support. When he spoke, she could tell he was smiling.

‘No worries. I’ll be right in front of you.’