The Birthday Girl Read Online Free PDF

medical facility where they'd saved his left leg from turning gangrenous.
    'I have to do it,' he said quietly. 'I'm not leaving until I know that she's all right.'
    Connors shook his head and turned back to stare out of the window. A shrill whine was followed by an ear-numbing thud as a mortar shell exploded some distance behind them, and the driver ducked in his seat, an involuntary reaction that would have done nothing to save him if the shell had hit the car. Freeman noticed that Connors was totally unfazed by the explosion.
    The car swerved to avoid a massive hole filled with dirty water and accelerated around a corner. The motion of the car smashed Katherine's head against the window and she yelped. 'Hey, take it easy!' Freeman shouted at the driver, a bulky Serb who hadn't spoken a word since he'd picked them up at the UN medical centre. Connors spoke to the driver in the man's own language, and the driver nodded and grunted, but made no attempt to slow down.
    'We'll be there soon,' Connors said over his shoulder. He was as good as his word; five minutes later the car came to an abrupt halt in front of a football stadium. The driver continued to rev the engine as if he wanted to make a quick getaway until Connors spoke to him sharply. Connors got out of the car and walked around to the rear. The air that blew in through the open door smelled foul and Katherine put her hand over her mouth and nose. 'What on earth is that?' she said.
    'People,' Freeman said. 'A lot of people.'
    Connors appeared at the rear passenger door and opened it. He jammed it open with his knee as he assembled the portable wheelchair. The smell was much stronger, and for the first time Freeman became aware of the noise: a distant rumble, like thunder.
    Connors and Katherine helped Freeman slide along the car seat and half lifted, half pushed him into the chair. The UN doctor, a thirty-year-old Pakistani, had assured him that eventually he'd be able to run a marathon but for the next few 24 STEPHEN LEATHER weeks or so he'd have to use the chair. Freeman was just grateful that the pain had gone.
    When Freeman was seated in the chair, Connors stood in front of him, his arms folded across his chest. He was a big man with the shoulders of a heavyweight boxer, but deceptively light on his feet. Freeman wondered if he really was a representative of the State Department as he'd claimed. He suspected that he was with the CIA. 'Mr Freeman, I want to take one last shot at persuading you not to go through with this. There's a plane leaving for Rome this evening. You can be back in the States by tomorrow morning. This is no place for you just now. Or for your wife.' The crack of a rifle in the distance served to emphasise his plea.
    Freeman shook his head. 'You're wasting your time,' he said. 'I can't leave without knowing that she's okay.'
    Connors shook his head in bewilderment. 'She's a terrorist. She'd have killed you without a second thought.'
    'She's thirteen years old,' Freeman said. 'They killed her family, did God knows what to her parents, and they would've blown her away if I hadn't stopped them. I want to make sure they haven't murdered her.'
    'This is a war, Mr Freeman, and she's a soldier. There's something else you should know.'
    Freeman narrowed his eyes. 'What?'
    'The rescue operation. Your company funded it.'
    'They what?' Freeman looked at Katherine. 'Is that true?'
    Katherine shrugged. 'Maury said he'd handle it. He arranged to have the ransom and the equipment delivered to a middleman in Sarajevo and the man disappeared with it. He called in a security firm. They said that once the equipment had been delivered they'd probably have killed you anyway and that the only thing to do was to bring you out ourselves. They put Maury in touch with some people. Mercenaries.'
    'So you see, Mr Freeman, it's your company that's responsible for what happened in the basement. If anyone's to blame . ..'
    Freeman pushed at the wheels of the chair and rolled