‘Don’t say that. We’ll get help. You’re going to be okay.’
He shook his head weakly. ‘There’s been too many lies in this damn war already. Truth is, we shouldn’t be here in the first place and I don’t think today is going to change anything.’
‘Just hang in there,’ I said. ‘I’ll get help.’
He shook his head again. ‘Do me one favour.’ His voice was a low croak now.
‘Anything,’ I said softly.
‘Look out for Chloe for me,’ Captain Smith said. Then he breathed out and died in my arms.
‘You got it, boss,’ I said, tears pricking in my eyes. ‘You got it.’
Chapter 11
I was startled out of my reverie by the buzzing of the seat-belt sign flashing overhead once more.
We were about half an hour away from Heathrow by my reckoning. I checked my belt again, something you learn in the military: take care of your equipment and with luck your equipment will take care of you. The clasp was working fine.
I glanced across at Hannah. She didn’t seem too bothered that turbulence ahead had been announced, and was listening quietly to some music on her iPod. Some thrash rap, no doubt – or whatever the cool kids were listening to nowadays. I guess you could call me old-fashioned but I like my music with a melody to it. Maybe I was getting old.
I aged five years in the next five seconds, though, when the 787 hit an air pocket. It might be called a Dreamliner but air pockets are my worst nightmare. The state-of-the-art plane dropped like a stone. I felt a small hand holding my own and looked across to see my young charge watching me, concerned.
‘It’s all right,’ I said. ‘Statistically you have a lot more chance being killed crossing the road than you do flying.’
Whoever comes up with these sayings should be taken away and shot, if you ask me.
‘I know that,’ she said. ‘But you looked like you were just about to have a heart attack.’