The wound itself wasn’t life-threatening, but he was pinned under one of the gates and part of the wall that had exploded with an RPG fired from the house. Trapped, without help, he could have bled out. They couldn’t call in the Bradleys as he knew that others firing from neighbouring buildings couldn’t see him. In a brief lull, Kyle had run forward, but as he bore down on Tom another volley of AK opened up. Kyle wheeled round and sprayed the windows, while hauling Tom out of their arcs to safety. It had been the first day of the rest of his life.

‘Good to see a friendly face out there tonight.’

They moved a couple of steps away from the crowd.

‘Yeah, these dudes ain’t exactly top of my list of drinking buddies. They lapped up your spiel, though.

You sure hit the high notes.’

A couple of well-wishers headed towards Tom but backed off when they saw Kyle.

Tom noted the Glock holstered on his friend’s hip. ‘Who are you expecting?’

‘Comes with the territory. I help Mr Stutz with his security.’

‘That a full-time job?’

‘Twenty-four seven.’ Kyle nodded at the men in black, chests straining at their suit jackets. ‘Yep, that’s my team.’

‘How’re the kids?’

Tom remembered he had twin boys and a baby girl.

‘Good, I guess.’ Something in his tone indicated that that was as far as he wanted to go on that subject.

‘How about we get some beers? Take a break from all this flag-waving.’

Tom looked round and saw Stutz deep in conversation, Skip fiddling with his phone and Beth smiling relentlessly. Maybe he should have been working the crowd, flying the flag for Invicta, but getting an inside track on Stutz’s operation from an old buddy was too good an opportunity to pass up. Kyle gripped his arm.

‘C’mon. Those guys seem to have it covered.’

Tom saw him catch Stutz’s eye. Stutz looked up from the group he was talking to and nodded. Tom grinned. ‘Okay, partner, let’s ride!’

Chapter 47

47

Tom did a swift change into jeans, T-shirt and bomber jacket. On his way out he waved at Beth and, for the first time since he had set eyes on her, thought he saw the smile fade. Was that wistfulness he detected? Maybe she had been hoping babysitting him would be a respite from Skip. Maybe she had been thinking more than that. Yeah, and maybe he was kidding himself.

The hot night air was full of the sound of cicadas and the aroma of barbecuing meat laced with traffic fumes.

‘Ah, the sweet smell of Texas.’

Parked on the hotel forecourt was Kyle’s Harley, a classic early sixties Panhead but straight, no ridiculous Easy Rider forks or crazy chrome. A workmanlike machine.

‘Still tearing up the Badlands?’