Dark Horizon by James Swallow

Author:James Swallow
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: WelBeck

Miles stood with his back to the hangar’s exterior and peered up at the thick, gloomy blanket of clouds overhead. He felt a faint pinprick of rain on his face but there was no renewed deluge, at least not for the moment. The air was cold with the chill from the evening’s earlier downpour, and puddles glistened here and there on the black asphalt of the aircraft apron.

He badly wanted a smoke to warm him up a little but the multiple signs warning about volatile aviation fuel storage and the like made Miles hesitate to light up. Instead, he walked in circles, hands buried in the belly pocket of his hoodie as he tried to keep them warm and stave off his nicotine craving.

He caught sight of one of the PMCs standing sentinel near the grassy median across the way. The man held a submachine gun out of sight beneath his jacket, and he scanned the cold night with a fixed, robotic manner, waiting for a threat to materialise.

Miles had been ringside to watch the CIA guy Knox giving the mercenaries an ear bashing after those two local plods had wandered on to the airfield unhindered. Both of the constables had since been sent away, the pair of them sufficiently cowed by not only the presence of guns and serious-looking men, but by the way their commanding officer had immediately ordered them to give up all they knew about the death of John Price.

That’s enough to put the frighteners on anyone, he thought. Once upon a time, Miles had been on their side, living in the ‘white’ side of things where most people went about their daily lives, instead of the clandestine realm of the ‘black’ world where MI6, CIA and all the other intelligence agencies operated.

He felt sorry for the coppers. They were out of their league, having stumbled right into something that rose far above their pay grades. If they were smart, they’d keep their traps shut, their heads down and do their jobs.

The information they had unknowingly brought to the team at the airfield blasted a hole in the middle of the operation, sending shockwaves back through the British and American intelligence services. Miles had no doubt that phones were ringing in offices all over Whitehall and Washington DC, as people scrambled to catch up with the unfolding clusterfuck that the al-Amal rendition had become.

More than anything, he needed someone out of Six, someone senior to him, to step in and take over. But so far that hadn’t happened, and he remained the man on the spot, the only British intelligence officer in the midst of this mess. It was a responsibility he did not want.

Sooner or later, someone would catch up to the fact that Miles was only a driver, a low-tier field officer, and kick him aside. But that hadn’t happened yet, and part of him wondered if it was deliberate. If tonight’s work ended badly, a nobody like him would be the perfect person to pin the blame on.

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