Contracts by Matt Rogers (i like reading txt) 📕

The cold harsh world outside the cave meant death.

Staying in here, sheltered from the elements, meant death.

Slater was probably already dead.

He said, ‘I didn’t think this would be where it all came crashing down.’

‘This isn’t the movies,’ Perry said. ‘Killing the big bad guy doesn’t magically solve all our problems.’

‘Where’s the laptop?’

Perry pointed to the body outside the cave. There was something resting in the snow alongside him. It had fallen off his shoulder when he’d gone down.

‘In that duffel,’ he said.

‘Get it.’

‘What’s the point, man…?’

‘Are you giving up on me?’

‘No, but—’

‘Get the laptop,’ King said. ‘We’re not quitting at the final hurdle, for God’s sake.’

He led the way, collecting every spare magazine he could find off the bodies on the way out. The wind assaulted him as he stepped out into the snow, and the sun glare made him squint. He waited for Perry to rummage through the duffel, and saw the man come out with a chunky old-school silver laptop. Like a brick compared to the sleek modern variants.

King said, ‘That’s what all this is about?’

Perry said, ‘Yeah.’

‘Then give it here. I’ll destroy it.’

Perry went pale. ‘Are you out of your mind?’

‘If we smash the magnetic platter inside the hard drive, then nothing’s recoverable. Why wouldn’t we do that?’

Perry chewed his bottom lip. ‘I’m not supposed to tell you this…’

‘You’d better.’

‘It’s not just what he left out of the cloud. Parker has documents he needs on this hard drive. He’s notoriously terrible at backing them up. I’ve been in a war with him about it for most of the five years I’ve worked for him.’

‘What documents?’

‘I don’t know. He doesn’t tell me. But I know they’re vital for what he does for a living, which makes me think we’ll put lives at risk if we wipe them out of existence.’

King stared at the grey brick, cursing its existence, cursing Aidan Parker’s ineptitude.

Frankly, he didn’t have time to consider alternatives.

He said, ‘Fine. Keep it close.’

They started trekking uphill, back to the peak. Neither of them rushed. There was a certain nihilism behind their movements, like they were walking to their deaths. King wasn’t in the mood to get to the peak in a hurry. They’d find civilian trekkers happy to have accomplished the climb and, further down the mountain, a convoy of Maoist insurgents coming for their heads.

In what could very well be his last moments, King thought of Slater. If he died up here, his closest friend would lose his final lifeline. No matter how hard he fought, Slater would succumb to the endless waves of rebels storming Gokyo to find him. They knew he was down there. Maybe he’d already been overwhelmed, which, King had to admit, would give him nothing to live for.

So maybe it was a good thing his plans had come crashing down around him.

Raya was dead.

They’d failed their objective.

Slater was probably dead.

So it was almost poetic they’d go down in unison.

It was fate.

King reached the peak first, and greeted two exhausted Europeans resting on one of the flat rocks, admiring the scenery. He couldn’t comprehend such a carefree existence. Here they were without a worry in the world, savouring their achievement.

The woman said, ‘What were you doing down there?’

King said, ‘Just exploring. There’s nothing to see. Don’t bother.’

He looked around. Noticed Everest, noticed the staggering glacier, noticed the endless mountain ranges.

Not a bad place to die, he thought.

He stole a glance down the south side of Gokyo Ri. Saw a tight cluster of trekkers, perhaps halfway up the mountain. There were at least twenty of them. Perry had lowballed it. Amidst the scattered pairings and trios hiking upwards, the convoy looked like a small army.

Which it was.

King gripped the P320 under his jacket and turned to Perry. ‘That’s them.’

Perry was pale as he gazed down the mountainside. ‘We’re fucked.’

‘Tell me about it.’

The European woman said, ‘What the hell is that?’

King winced, thinking she’d overheard too many details and put it all together.

He turned to her to try and explain.

But she wasn’t looking at him.

She was staring wide-eyed over his shoulder, as if she couldn’t comprehend what was happening.

King pivoted.

Expecting the worst.

The red-and-silver helicopter lurched through the air like it was being piloted by a drunk. Its bulk had been masked from view by the rock formations on the east side of the peak, but now it roared over the peak and came to hover right over their heads. The din of its rotors drowned out the mountaintop wind, and King and Perry and the Europeans craned their necks in mutual shock.

The chopper wobbled, and started to descend.

King could see the underside of its chassis clearly, and he counted dozens of places where bullets had thudded into the thin material. He thought he saw smoke wafting from the tail rotor.

‘What the fuck are they doing?’ Perry shouted over the din. ‘There’s nowhere to land.’

King didn’t answer.

He ran over to where the Europeans sat on the rock, and said, ‘Sorry,’ before he wrenched the Sig out from under his jacket and pointed it up at the chopper’s windshield.

The man said, ‘Hey,’ and the woman turned pale.

King realised he might have to shoot a few rebels dead in front of these civilians, and wondered what it might do to their mental health.

But then the helicopter jerked and bobbed and weaved and crashed to earth, one of its landing skids crushed as it impacted a flat rock.

It came to a standstill, the rotors still roaring at full speed, barely keeping balance on the peak.

King aimed his weapon right through the windshield and saw Slater half-conscious in the passenger seat.

‘Holy shit,’ he breathed.

He seized Perry by the collar and hauled him toward the waiting chopper.

72

Slater could barely keep his eyes open, but when he spotted Jason King on the peak he couldn’t keep the smile off his face.

What surprised him most was Oscar Perry standing alongside the man, clutching a laptop between his fingers.

It was the fucking porter?!

He heard Drew’s muffled voice saying,