Blackout - By Tom Barber Page 0,48

the men followed her into the room. As he walked in, Archer saw a blond-haired patient lying in the bed and managed to hide his surprise when he saw the man's frailty. Fletcher was pale and gaunt, his cheeks sunken. He was wearing pyjamas but they were hanging off him, his two pointy shoulders serving merely as a bony coat-hanger.

Archer looked around the room and saw a television on the BBC News channel, standing on a table in the corner. They had caught it during a re-run of the bulletins, the screen showing the damage to the outside of the ARU's headquarters from the gunfight. The sound was muted, but the shot flicked to Cobb delivering his report to the waiting press. From the bed, Fletcher coughed, clearing his throat, staring in confusion at the sudden influx of strangers who had entered his room. He looked totally bewildered.

‘What’s going on?’ he asked.

*

‘So we finally meet,’ Fletcher said to Cobb and Jackson, after Cobb had explained to him who they were. 'I never had a chance to thank you two gentlemen for what you did for me.'

As he spoke, Fox and Chalky checked out of the windows which looked out over the rear of the building. They could see a large garden with a duck pond not far away from the building, surrounded by benches. The outskirts of the garden was lined with trees and shrubbery, providing a natural screen of privacy for the residents and their visitors. There were a few people out there walking around, several elderly patients, a young, tall, dark-haired man moving slowly beside an older grey-haired man, probably his father, looking around and enjoying the sunshine. The receptionist had just departed, both to leave the policemen alone with Fletcher and also to get back to her desk.

Chalky and Fox drew the curtains shut and across the room Porter locked the door behind him. Archer flicked on the light on the wall and stood beside Porter, looking at the former soldier in the bed. The guy looked exhausted, ten or fifteen years older than he actually was. He had a sheen of cold sweat on his waxy face, his eyes sunken, but he looked back at them all in turn, curious.

‘It’s nice to have guests. My family haven't been in a while. I’d offer you all a seat, but there are only two,’ Fletcher said, forcing a weak smile.

Chalky and Fox folded their arms, staying by the curtains. Cobb took up the offer and sat on one of the empty chairs. No one took the other. Archer and Porter remained standing beside Jackson, the door locked behind them, and together the six of them encircled the sickly man in the wide bed.

‘What kind of cancer is it?’ Archer asked, breaking a few moments of silence.

Fletcher looked over at him.

‘Stomach. I’ll be dead in three months. Puts all my shit into perspective.'

Pause.

'But Nature knows what she's doing. I don’t deserve to live anyway.’

There was another pause.

They all knew what the next question would be. It was just a case of who would ask it.

‘What happened?’ Porter asked quietly. ‘In Kosovo?’

Fletcher looked across the room at Cobb and Jackson.

‘So that’s why you’re here.’

They both nodded.

'It’s OK?' he asked them.

'Speak,' Cobb said. ‘No more secrets today.’

The sick man took a deep breath, wincing from the effort as air filled his lungs.

And he began to talk.

FOURTEEN

‘There were three of us. Me, Carver and Floyd. We all met at Camp Bondsteel. It was the main NATO military base over there, and it was a hell of a place to be. I'd been in the Army for over ten years at that point. Went to the Gulf. Bosnia. Been in some good camps, and some pretty bad ones. But Bondsteel was the best military base I’d ever been to in my life. It had everything. A cinema, school-rooms, two cappuccino bars, football fields, recreation rooms. You name it, they had it. They had the best hospital in Kosovo too. They even had a Taco Bell and Burger King.'

He paused, taking a breath. Archer noticed the effort from talking was already causing more beads of cold sweat to form on the man's brow. Simple talking and having a conversation for this man was like going flat out on a treadmill on the highest setting.

'Most of that stuff was there to keep the troops entertained, you know? Back then, it wasn’t like it is now in Afghanistan, or Iraq. The action was few and far