Smoke and Mirrors by Angus McLean

Author:Angus McLean [McLean, Angus]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: Angus McLean
Published: 2015-02-04T23:00:00+00:00

27

The next morning Archer hit the floor at 5:30am and threw on his running gear.

After a warm up he ran hard for twenty minutes through Southsea, before returning to the hotel sweaty and breathing hard.

He rinsed off in his room and changed into togs, detecting no movement from Tracy’s room as he padded his way silently down to the leisure centre. The pool was empty and still and he barely made a ripple as he dived smoothly in. He didn’t count his lengths but just kept going, strong and rhythmic, until the G-Shock told him it had been half an hour.

He touched the wall for the last time and hauled himself up onto the side, his chest heaving as he wiped his face clear and sucked in air. He could hear the clank of weights through in the gym, and wondered who else would be up this early. Grabbing his towel he quickly rubbed himself down before circling the pool to the gym door. He peered through the head height window.

The only occupant was Tracy, using a machine for lat pulldowns. From where he stood he could see the muscles working in her shoulders and back as she smoothly pulled the bar down behind her head, paused, let it raise slightly and paused once more before slowly releasing it up again. She wore a black Lycra crop top and shorts that revealed plenty of firm, toned flesh. She was totally focussed on her set and he stepped away before he got caught staring again.

Archer shook his head at himself as he headed back to his room. ‘Jesus,’ he muttered, ‘get a fucken grip.’

Tracy didn’t show at the restaurant until he was nearly finished his second bowl of muesli and fruit. She threw him a quick smile as she helped herself to coffee and porridge, and once she sat down he felt a change in the dynamics from the previous night.

She told him in a whisper that they were meeting Matthew at 8:00am and would deploy from there. Her skin glowed with the recent exercise, and as she raised her spoon to eat he noticed she had a faint white scar between the middle two knuckles on her right hand.

She saw him looking. ‘A misplaced punch,’ she explained. ‘Top left incisor of a drunk squaddie who tried his luck one night.’

‘Ouch.’

‘More ouch for him when my eighteen stone partner lifted him off the ground and threw him across the barroom.’ She smiled. ‘It’s an effective way of scaring the crap out of a bunch of raw recruits.’

Archer drained his cup and set it down. There was nobody sitting near them and it seemed like an appropriate time. ‘So, ten years as a “Red Cap.” Must’ve been a pretty tough life for a young chick.’

‘It had its moments,’ she acknowledged, finishing her porridge and pushing the bowl aside. ‘There’re no shortage of stupid young blokes who need to be pulled into line, that’s for sure.’

‘See any combat though?’ Archer replied, with more of an edge than he’d intended.

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