Running Blind by Desmond Bagley

( A hard hand pinned my wrist to the wal and Slade raised his gun. I

had just sense enough and time enough to stop making a fist and to

spread my fingers so he wouldn’t shoot through them before he pulled the

trigger and I took the bullet in the palm of my hand. Curiously enough,

after the first stabbing shock it didn’t hurt. All I felt was a dead

numbness from shoulder to fingertip. It would hurt soon enough as the

shock wore off, but it didn’t hurt then.

My head swam and I heard Elin scream, but the cry seemed to come from a

long way away. When I opened my eyes I saw Slade looking at me

unsmilingly. He said curtly, ‘Take him back to his chair.’ It had been a

purely vindictive act of revenge and now it was over and he was back to

business as usual.

I was dumped back into the chair and I raised my head to see Elin

leaning against the chimney piece with tears streaming down her face.

Then Slade moved between us and I lost sight of her.

‘You know too much, Stewart,’ he said. ‘So you must die -you know that.’

‘I know you’l do your best,’ I said dully. I now knew why Slade had

cracked in the hotel room because the same thing” was happening to me. I

found I couldn’t string two consecutive thoughts together to make sense

and I had a blinding headache. The penetration of a bullet into flesh

has that effect.

Slade said, ‘Who knows about me – apart from the girl?’

‘No one,’ I said. ‘What about the girl?’

He shrugged. ‘You’l be buried in the same grave.’ He turned to

Kennikin. ‘He might be tel ing the truth. He’s been on the run and he

hasn’t had a chance to let anyone know.’

‘He might have written a letter,’ said Kennikin doubtful y.

‘That’s a risk I’l have to take. I don’t think Taggart has any

suspicions. He might be annoyed because I’ve dropped out of sight but

that wil be al . I’l be a good boy and take the next plane back to

London.’ He lifted his wounded hand and grinned tightly at Kennikin.

‘And I’l blame this on you. I’ve been wounded trying to save this

fool.’ He reached out and kicked my leg.

‘What about the electronic equipment?’

‘What about it?’

Kennikin took out his cigarette case and selected a cigarette. ‘It seems

a pity not to complete the operation as planned. Stewartsen knows where

it is, and I can get the information from him.’

‘So you could,’ said Slade thoughfully. He looked down at me. ‘Where is

it, Stewart?’

‘It’s where you won’t find it.’

‘That car wasn’t searched,’ said Kennikin. ‘When you were found in the

boot everything else was forgotten.’ He snapped out orders and his two

men left the room. ‘If it’s in the car they’l find it.’

‘I don’t think it’s in the car,’ said Slade.

‘I didn’t think /you/ were in the car,’ said Kennikin waspishly. ‘I

wouldn’t be at al surprised to find it there.’

‘You may be right,’ said Slade. His voice indicated that he didn’t think

so. He bent over me. ‘You’re going to die, Stewart – you may depend upon

it. But there are many ways of dying. Tel us where the package is and

you’l die cleanly and quickly. If not, I’l let Kennikin work on you.’

I kept my mouth firmly shut because I knew that if I opened it he would

see the tremulous lower lip that is a sign of fear.

He stood aside. ‘Very wel . You can have him, Kennikin.’ A vindictive

note entered his voice. ‘The best way to do it is to shoot him to pieces

slowly. He threatened to do it to me.’

Kennikin stepped in front of me, gun in hand. ‘Wel , Alan; we come to

the end of the road, you and I. Where is the radar equipment?’

Even then when facing his gun I noted that new piece of information.

/Radar equipment./ I screwed up my face and ‘ managed a smile. ‘Got

another cigarette, Vaslav?’

No answering smile crossed his face. His eyes were bleak and his mouth

was set in grim lines. He had the face of an executioner. ‘There is no

time for tradition – we are done with that foolery.’

I looked past him. Elin was stil standing there, forgotten, and there

was an expression of desperation on her face. But her hand was inside

her anorak and coming out slowly, grasping something. The jolting

realization came that she stil had the gun!

That was enough to bring me to my senses fast. When al hope is gone and

there is nothing more to look forward to than death one sinks into a

morass of fatalism as I had done. But given the faintest hint that al

is not lost and then a man can act – and my action now was to talk and

talk fast.

I turned my head and spoke to Slade. I had to attract his attention to

me so he would not even think of looking at Elin. ‘Can’t you stop him?’

I pleaded.

‘You can stop him. All you have to do is to tel him what we want to know.’

‘I don’t know about that,’ I said. ‘I’l stil die, anyway.’

‘But easier,’ said Slade. ‘Quickly and without pain.’

I looked back to Kennikin and, over his shoulder, saw that Elin had now

withdrawn the pistol and it was in plain sight. She was fiddling with it

and I hoped to God she remembered the sequence of actions she would have

to go through before it would fire.

‘Vaslav,’ I said. ‘You wouldn’t do this to an old mate. Not you.’

His pistol centred on my bel y and then dropped lower. ‘You don’t have

to guess to know where I’m going to put the first bullet,’ he said. His

voice was deadly quiet. ‘I’m just following Slade’s orders – and my own

inclination.’

‘Tel us,’ urged Slade, leaning forward.

I heard the snap of metal as Elin pulled back the slide of the pistol.

So did Kennikin and he began to turn. Elin held the pistol in both hands

and at arm’s length and as Kennikin began his turn she fired and kept on

firing.

I distinctly heard the impact of the first bullet in Kennikin’s back.

His hand tightened convulsively around his gun and it exploded in my

face, the bullet burying itself in the arm of the chair next to my

elbow. By then I was moving. I dived for Slade head first and rammed him

in the paunch. My skul was harder than his bel y and the breath came

out of him in a great whoosh and he folded up and lay gasping on the floor.

I rolled over, aware that Elin was stil shooting and that bullets were

stil whanging across the room. ‘Stop!’ I yel ed.

I scooped up Slade’s popgun and came up under Elin’s elbow, grabbing her

by the wrist. ‘For Christ’s sake, stop!’

I think she had shot off the whole magazine. The opposite wal was

pock-marked and Kennikin lay in front of the chair in which I had been

sitting. He lay face upwards gazing sightlessly at the ceiling. Elin had

hit him twice more which was hardly surprising, considering she had been

shooting at a range of less than six feet. Come to think of it, I was

fortunate she hadn’t put a bullet into me. There was a ragged red spot

dead centre in Kennikin’s forehead to prove he’d had the vitality to

turn around and try to shoot back. Another bul et had caught him in the

angle of the jaw and had blown off the bottom half of his face.

He was very dead.

I didn’t stop to ruminate about how in the midst of life we are in

death. I dragged Elin behind me and headed for the door. The boys

outside might be prepared for the odd shot, especial y after Slade’s

little demonstration, but the barrage Elin had laid down would be a

matter of urgent investigation and that had to be discouraged.

At the door I let go of Elin’s wrist with my left hand and swapped it

for the gun I held in my wounded right hand. With a hole through the

palm I couldn’t possibly use a gun in that hand, even one with as little

recoil as Slade’s gimmicked weapon. I’m a lousy pistol shot at the best

of times and even worse when shooting left-handed; but one of the nice

things about gun battles is that the man you’re shooting at doesn’t ask

you for a proficiency certificate before he decides to duck.

I glanced at Elin. She was obviously in a state of shock. No one can

shoot a man to death without undergoing an emotional upheaval –

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