Sudden Death by Nick Hale

Author:Nick Hale [Hale, Nick]
Language: eng
Format: epub
ISBN: 978-1-4052-5936-1
Publisher: Egmont
Published: 2010-08-29T04:00:00+00:00

Popov was furious.

‘Who does this man think he is?’ said the Russian. The vein on his forehead was prominent and a lock of his dark hair had fallen out of place. They had retired to an anteroom. Christian Truman, Igor Popov, Steve Bastin and Jake. Jake was pretty sure he wasn’t actually allowed or wanted in the anteroom, but he had followed too closely for them to shake him off.

‘I invite him here, to my country, and my stadium,’ Popov was saying, ‘and this is how he repays me. By embarrassing me in front of the press!’ He held out his hands towards Jake’s dad, who was looking at his mobile phone. ‘Steven, what should I do with this man? In the Soviet days, well, that was different. I would have . . .’

Popov stopped talking abruptly and fixed Jake with a stare. ‘I get carried away. Nothing can be done now. The game is on Saturday and then everything will be OK again. I’m very sorry, Christian, that this countryman of yours has been allowed to spoil the day.’

Christian Truman nodded. ‘That’s quite all right, Igor,’ he said in his Texan drawl. ‘We have plenty of problem journalists Stateside, too.’

Both men continued talking, but Jake’s dad seemed distracted. Jake watched as he turned away from Popov and Truman and checked his phone for messages. He tapped a few buttons and then shoved his phone in his jacket pocket.

‘Everything OK, Steve?’ Truman asked, finally noticing that Jake’s dad had disengaged from their conversation.

‘Gentlemen, I’ve just remembered I left some documents in the car. Will you give me a moment?’

You’re up to something right now, thought Jake as he watched his dad slip out of the room. Jake waited a few seconds and then excused himself as well.

The lift doors were just closing on his dad. Jake sprinted to the stairwell. He took the steps three at a time, vaulting over the rail where it turned. He covered the three flights down to the car park in less than ten seconds, and shoved open the door into the underground area. Half a second later, the elevator pinged, and the doors opened.

Jake ducked behind a column and tried to still his breathing.

He leant out and saw his dad stride purposefully across the parking bays. Jake’s blood was pulsing across his temples. His dad was almost at the car when another figure stepped out in front of him. Powell. What was he doing down here? Hadn’t security escorted him out? The American’s lips were moving, but Jake was too far away to hear what he was saying.

Suddenly Jake’s dad lunged forward, shoving Powell in the chest. The journalist crashed backward on to the bonnet of the car, with Jake’s dad’s hands at his throat. Jake couldn’t help the gasp of astonishment that left his lips.

His dad was leaning over Powell, who squirmed helplessly underneath him, one arm still in the sling. Jake didn’t know what to do. Should he run over and help? Let his dad know he was spying on him? His dad raised a fist.

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