Fire Force(142)

‘Stop, or I’ll fucking shoot you,’ said Archie. His voice had gone up a pitch, so that it was practically a squeal. Nerves, Steve decided. Never a good thing to take into a scrap.

‘Just stand back,’ said Archie, even louder this time. ‘You can keep the bloody money I promised you. I’ll leave on this boat, and we’ll forget about the whole thing.’

Steve took another step towards him, so that he was standing just five yards away from the man. He looked towards his right hand. The Sphinx was shaking.

‘Another step, and I’ll shoot.’

‘As the gun lobby likes to say, it’s not guns that kill people, it’s people that kill people,’ interrupted Steve. His tone was low and menacing. ‘And since you don’t have the fucking guts to shoot a man, that weapon’s no bloody use to you.’

Moving with the suddenness and agility of a cobra, in a flash, Steve had covered the space that separated them, and put a brutal punch straight into the wrist of Archie’s right hand. The man’s finger brushed the trigger, but without the force needed to release the bullet, and the Sphinx tumbled harmlessly to the ground. Steve smashed straight into him, using the weight of his body like a hammer, winding the man and sending him staggering back along the pier. Steve grabbed hold of him, then jerked his right arm up hard behind his back. Archie screamed in pain as the muscles and bone were twisted out of shape. With his left hand, Steve put a punch straight into his face, cutting open his lip. Then, releasing his arm, Steve pushed him down onto the jetty. Stooping, he picked up the Sphinx and held it rock steady into the side of Archie’s head.

‘I’ll show you how this fancy bit of kit works, mate,’ he said thickly.

Archie was kneeling. Tears were streaming down his face, mixing with the blood and rain.

‘I can pay you . . .’

Steve gave a disgusted shake of the head.

‘Millions . . .’

Steve remained silent, the wind howling around him, and the rain lashing into his face.

‘Please,’ wept Archie.

‘Stand up and take your bullet like a man.’

Sam was rushing towards him, approaching the edge of the jetty.

‘No!’ she screamed.

Steve paused. His finger was half-squeezing the trigger. Another milligram of pressure, and the 9mm bullet would already have chewed up Archie’s brain.

‘He set us up from the start,’ he said, his tone harsh and uncompromising. ‘He’s been working alongside one of the most brutal dictators in the world and he’s about to install another one in his place. He’s inflicted misery on millions - all just to make his company a bit richer. He’s scum.’

‘He’s still my brother. He’s the only family I have,’ she sobbed.

Rain and tears were washing across her face.

‘He’s a bloody criminal.’

She took a step closer, holding out her hand a few inches. ‘If you love me, Steve, don’t do it,’ she pleaded.

Steve held himself steady. If he shot Archie, it would be all over with Sam. He could see that clearly. He weighed the verdict in his mind.

The bastard deserves to die.

But I don’t want to lose her.

He started to put the gun down. And as he looked into her eyes, and saw the relief flooding through her, he knew he had made the right decision.

Ollie picked up the gun Newton had dropped: the chamber of his own Enfield was empty. It was nothing like as sophisticated as the Sphinx. A Chinese-made Type 77 pistol, in clean black, it was among the cheapest handguns in the world, but it would do the job effectively enough. Unnoticed by the others, he stepped forward, pace after pace, and grabbed Archie roughly by the hair. A single image was playing through his mind: Chris’s baby son, sitting on his lap back on the farm in South Africa, and the look of pride on the big man’s face as he cradled his boy in his arms.

‘There’s a kid who’s never going to know who his dad was because of you,’ he said hoarsely. ‘And that’s a fucking shame, because he was a bloody good bloke, and he was a mate of mine.’

‘No!’ shouted Archie.

‘And now it’s you who’s knocking on heaven’s door.’

Ollie squeezed the trigger - once, then twice.

The first bullet blew a hole in the side of Archie’s head, and the second split open half his brain and emptied it onto the side of the pier. The man jerked violently in one last spasm of life, then slumped forward onto the decking.

Grim-faced, Ollie tucked the pistol back into his belt and stepped back onto dry land.

Sam started to walk towards the boat. She stepped right past Steve, not even looking at him, and there was not a trace of fear on her face. Carefully, she untethered its mooring, and stood behind the wheel.