Manhunter Chris Ryan (phonics story books txt) 📖

We’ll start organising the defences. Questions?’

He looked round the bar. No one raised a hand. The other four members of the team stared back at Mallet with looks of grim determination.

‘Get to work,’ he said. ‘There’s not a moment to lose.’

Twenty-Six

The soldiers sprang into action. Bowman and Loader stayed behind while Mallet hurried out of the room with Casey and Webb. Gregory, Lubowa and Mavinda followed in their wake as they raced towards the front of the stronghold to begin organising the defences. The president’s brother and his wife watched the departing soldiers, their faces taut with fear and confusion. Seguma’s wife soothed her infant son, shushing in his ear. The twin girls gazed at Bowman and Loader with shy, curious expressions as they approached the table.

‘Ma’am.’ Loader addressed the president’s wife, Christel Seguma. He waved a hand at Bowman. ‘This is my colleague, Josh. He’s going to wait here with you for a bit.’

‘Why?’ The brother spoke up. The smartly groomed guy in the embroidered silk tunic. Francis Seguma. The vice-president. ‘What’s going on?’

‘We need to move you and your relatives to a more secure part of the house, sir,’ Loader replied softly. ‘Josh will stay with you while I search the house for a good place for you to shelter in.’

‘Are we expecting trouble?’ asked the president’s wife.

‘It’s a possibility, ma’am. But if there is any shooting, me and the lads will take care of it. You won’t come to any harm.’

Francis Seguma let out a bitter laugh. ‘That is what Colonel Lubowa told us at the palace. He vowed to protect us from these . . . these animals. And look how that turned out!’

‘It’ll be different this time, sir,’ Bowman said. ‘Help is on the way.’

‘You expect us to believe that?’

‘It’s the truth, sir.’

‘And what are we supposed to do until then? Hide like cowards while these scum attack us?’

‘It’s for your own safety.’

The brother folded his arms. ‘Unacceptable. I demand to speak to my brother. We should be leaving the country while we still can, not waiting for these treacherous dogs to hunt us down.’

‘It’s too late for that, sir,’ Loader said. ‘The rebels have closed off the borders. We’re stuck here.’

Bowman was drowsy with tiredness. The fog in his mind was thickening. He tried to close his mind to it. To the sweats and the cravings, the intense cramping pain in his guts.

He said, ‘This isn’t up for debate, sir.’

‘Why can’t we stay here? This seems perfectly safe to me.’

‘Right now, maybe. But when the rounds start coming in, these windows won’t protect you. Trust me.’

The brother stared at him, fear gleaming in his eyes. He sighed.

‘Very well,’ he replied. ‘We will do as you wish. But if anything happens to my wife and daughters, or my brother’s family, I will hold you personally responsible.’

‘We’ll keep ’em safe, sir,’ Loader said, gently. ‘You have my word.’

He left the room and started down the corridor, leaving Bowman to guard the family. Francis Seguma and his wife were having a heated discussion while the president’s wife tended to her baby. The boys seemingly took no notice of their mother. Their eyes were glued to the garish images on the tablet screen. They were playing a cartoonish shoot ’em up. There was lots of tinny gunfire and zombie howls, and jaunty music.

One of the twin girls cautiously approached him. Francis Seguma’s kids. Her eyes were as round as saucers. A hollow feeling formed in his stomach and he found himself thinking about his little girl. Her infectious giggle. The cheeky look in her eyes. The way his heart would burst with joy whenever she smiled at him.

His life and joy. Snatched away from him.

Murdered.

The girl who wasn’t his daughter held out the fluffy toy bear towards Bowman. Like a peace offering.

‘This is Leo,’ she said in perfect English. ‘He wants to say hello.’

Bowman bent down and attempted a smile. ‘Hello, Leo.’

The girl leaned in close to the bear and furrowed her brow, as if listening to some whispered remark. Then she looked up at Bowman with a deeply serious face.

‘Leo wants to know if you’ll be his friend.’

‘Of course,’ said Bowman. ‘I’d be honoured.’

‘What’s that?’ She leaned in again. Lifted her big round eyes to Bowman and pouted.

‘Leo says you look sad,’ she said.

‘Does he?’

She gave an exaggerated nod, in that excited way all small children nod, at the age when the whole world seems impossibly new. ‘He says you have sad eyes.’

‘Well, you can tell Leo not to worry. I’m just fine.’

The girl spoke softly into the bear’s floppy ears. Then she leaned towards Bowman and lowered her voice to a conspiratorial whisper. ‘Do you want to know a secret?’

‘Go on.’

‘Leo gets sad sometimes too. Especially when he doesn’t have any honey.’

‘Is that so.’

She nodded eagerly. ‘Leo says it’s OK to be sad. Just as long as it’s not forever.’

‘Leo’s a smart bear.’

‘Oh, yes. He’s the smartest.’

The president’s sister-in-law called out to the girl. The middle-aged woman with the wide hips and the colourful head cloth. ‘Marie! Come here!’

The little girl smiled at Bowman, then ran over to her mother, gripping Leo tightly in her right hand. Bowman stood upright and felt a hot pain scratching inside his skull, drilling into his temples. He’d been able to ignore the cravings for the past two hours, but now they came back with a vengeance. His fingertips felt as if someone had taken a blowtorch to them. Sweat percolated down his spine. His stomach churned. He needed to get some pills into his exhausted body. Before he collapsed with fatigue.

He started towards the door.

‘Wait here,’ he ordered the family.

‘Where are you going?’ the brother demanded.

‘I’ll be back in a minute.’

He snuck out of the salon and paced back down the silk-wallpapered corridor. He started pushing open doors, searching for a toilet. One door led into a gym. The second led into a dining room. He got lucky with the third door on the left. Entered a bathroom with