Ultimate Weapon by Chris Ryan Page B

could see the fury in his eyes. The pupils were glinting with anger, and there was a bead of sweat running down the side of his face. Jed had been in enough fights in his life to know when a punch was about to be thrown: there was a moment between two men when a point could only be settled with fists, not words, and they had reached that point now. ‘Just give it to me, grandad,’ he snapped. ‘Let’s see how tough you really are.’
    Nick took a step forward. His shoulder muscles were tensed, and his arm was starting to draw backwards. Jed steadied himself, ready to use his arms to deflect the force of the first blow.
    ‘Never talk about Sarah like that again,’ growled Nick.
    The mobile in Jed’s pocket was ringing. He was about to ignore it, then he wondered if it might be Sarah answering one of the many messages he had left for her. ‘Yes,’ he said into the receiver.
    He listened for a minute, then snapped the phone shut. He looked back at Nick. The man was standing right next to him, his legs apart, his fist ready: the stance of a trained fighter. ‘I’ve been recalled to base,’ said Jed. ‘Immediately.’
    Jed turned round and started walking towards the station. It didn’t matter where you were or what you were doing. When the Regiment said it needed you,you did as you were told. Those were the rules, and they were unbreakable. ‘We’ll fight another day,’ he said, looking back at Nick.
    ‘Trust me, we will,’ said Nick. ‘And next time, there will be nothing to save you.’

FIVE

    Daniel Sutton looked at Jed coldly. He was only a couple of years older than him, and hadn’t been to such a good university, but he’d been to the right school, and had the right accent, so that made him a Rupert. ‘I hear there was a bit of a dust-up down in London,’ he said.
    Jed nodded. ‘I voiced some reservations about whether I wanted to take the mission,’ he said. ‘It’s off the books, so I have a choice.’
    They were sitting in a bare concrete briefing room. There was one simple wooden table, with Sutton behind it, and Jed opposite him. In the corner, there was a single lamp bulb, spreading a pale light up into the room. ‘Technically, you have a choice,’ said Sutton. ‘Just like technically you can appeal against a parking ticket. But it won’t do you any good, because no one gives a sod. You can refuse the mission if you want to, but the Regiment has no place for men who refuse to do what their country needs. That understood?’
    ‘How long do I have to make up my mind?’
    ‘About five minutes.’
    There was a silence. A minute went by without eitherman speaking. If you’ve got five minutes, you might as well use it, Jed decided. He knew the risks of going into Iraq. He’d been there only two weeks ago. The whole country was wound up like a crowd of football fans minutes before a Cup Final kicked off: it was tense with anticipation, trigger-happy, and looking for a fight. That made it dangerous. Without backup, they’d be exposed to dangers that he probably couldn’t even imagine.
    But that wasn’t it. If he wasn’t able to handle danger he wouldn’t have joined the Regiment in the first place. The real reason he wanted to turn down the mission was because he wanted to stay here.
To find Sarah
.
    Three minutes ticked by on his watch. Jed was still thinking.
    ‘Listen,’ said Sutton, his expression softening. ‘You’re a good man, Jed. You’ve got a great future in this outfit. With your academic qualifications and your skills in the field, you could go all the way. I don’t know what’s bothering you, but let me tell you this, if you blow out of the Regiment now, you’ll regret it for the rest of your life.’
    Jed looked back at him. He thought about the way he’d felt when he’d walked back into the regimental headquarters a few minutes ago after getting back from Cambridge. He thought about the trophies on the wall of the mess, marking the different battles the