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Back Time for the Dead Save as PDF
Chapters (94)
  1. Cover
  2. Time for the Dead
  3. Dedication page
  4. Map
  5. Epigraph page
  6. Prologue
  7. 1
  8. 2
  9. 3
  10. 4
  11. 5
  12. 6
  13. 7
  14. 8
  15. 9
  16. 10
  17. 11
  18. 12
  19. 13
  20. 14
  21. 15
  22. 16
  23. 17
  24. 18
  25. 19
  26. 20
  27. 21
  28. 22
  29. 23
  30. 24
  31. 25
  32. 26
  33. 27
  34. 28
  35. 29
  36. 30
  37. 31
  38. 32
  39. 33
  40. 34
  41. 35
  42. 36
  43. 37
  44. 38
  45. 39
  46. 40
  47. 41
  48. 42
  49. 43
  50. 44
  51. 45
  52. 46
  53. 47
  54. 48
  55. 49
  56. 50
  57. 51
  58. 52
  59. 53
  60. 54
  61. 55
  62. 56
  63. 57
  64. 58
  65. 59
  66. 60
  67. 61
  68. 62
  69. 63
  70. 64
  71. 65
  72. 66
  73. 67
  74. 68
  75. 69
  76. 70
  77. 71
  78. 72
  79. 73
  80. 74
  81. 75
  82. 76
  83. 77
  84. 78
  85. 79
  86. 80
  87. 81
  88. 82
  89. 83
  90. 84
  91. Epilogue
  92. Acknowledgements
  93. About the Author
  94. By Lin Anderson

Harry struggled to comprehend this. ‘The others were on Skye with him?’ he said as though he knew of their existence.

‘The girl, Seven, was there.’ McNab halted at this point, hoping Harry might fill in some of the other names.

When he didn’t, McNab said, ‘He was alone when the Mountain Rescue Team found him. They had split up to do survival stuff, Seven said.’

‘Seven knows Sugarboy’s dead?’

‘We can’t locate her or any of the others to tell them.’

‘Seven . . .’ Harry began, then halted, a catch in his throat. ‘They were mates. Good mates.’

Harry fell silent, which wasn’t what McNab wanted, so he tried another tack.

‘Did Sugarboy know Paul Watson, the Snowman, as the islanders called him?’

Harry glanced up at him. ‘That bastard’s inside.’

‘Not any more,’ McNab said. ‘His body was found at the foot of Kilt Rock on Skye four days ago. Looks like he fell off the cliff.’

Both relief and horror crossed Harry’s face at this news.

‘So it’s started,’ he said.

‘What’s started?’

‘The fucking war.’

Harry covered his head as though bombs were about to fall. Standing by his side, McNab spotted the saltire tattoo on the nape of his neck for the first time.

‘Why did you point me in Sugarboy’s direction?’ McNab said quietly.

‘They were after him. I wanted you to get to him first.’

DI Wilson laid the statement down. He had read it through twice already, and no doubt would again.

‘Will you share this with the MOD, sir?’

Harry’s treatise on how they’d got the consignments out of Helmand province and onto the streets of Glasgow made for interesting reading. Even writing it down would mean his death warrant from the Sandman side, although that warrant had, McNab suspected, already been issued. Hence Malky’s attack on Harry in the alleyway.

And the other thing Harry had told him . . .

‘It all began because they were sourcing the opiates locally to treat the Afghans caught up in the fighting. Sugarboy can . . . could speak the local lingo,’ Harry had said, ‘like a fucking native.

‘They’d officially run out of morphine when I came in, burning like a fucking candle. I wanted someone to shoot me. I begged them to shoot me. Sugarboy told me he was going to take the pain away, and he did.’

He’d looked at McNab then and given him a haunted smile. ‘I’m still taking that pain away.’

‘What happened to Sugarboy when he disappeared for a month?’

‘They all disappeared. Taken by the Taliban. It didn’t make the news. The MOD smothered it, but we knew. Story is, the girl, Seven, got them out.’

‘How?’