Her hair was a mass of dark, wet curls that fell across her broad shoulders and halfway down her back. She rubbed her chaffed hands together and grinned at me. "Sorry," she said, "know you was trying to help out there. Get you a drink?"I nodded, pulled a chair near the fire and yanked off my boots. She had breasts as big as a two pound sugar cones, and hips as wide as mine. She must have weighed twelve stone, a big woman who carried herself gracefully, a force in britches. She came and took a seat next to me, handing me a glass half full of mellow whisky. "Y'kin mull that if y'want," she said.I sipped. It was good stuff, and I felt it sliding down within me, warming. We introduced ourselves. She was Lucinda M--, the proprietor. She refilled my glass when it was empty and topped up her own. We listened to the fire crackle and spit and the wind shaking the shutters."Where y'headed?" she asked."Find the army, American army," I said, "Dan Morgan's force. Ought to be just north of here.". Mikael wasn't safe; he had a minute at best and he still had miles to go before he could reach any form of transport. He looked behind him, the gate was just out of sight and he dived into the field opposite. He couldn't see a Police helicopter but he couldn't rule out one being scrambled and ran across the thick vegetation that covered the field.Mikael knew that if they got a Police helicopter in the sky then it would find his body heat easily with the infra-red cameras and looked at the wood a mile away. It would be easier to hide in dense foliage and it was tough on the legs but he had to make to the small wood.Because in the wood, hidden in the middle of the trees was Mikael's escape kit, containing a false passport, money and a mobile phone. He had only put it there the month before as he was concerned that Jaroslav's criminal interests were beginning to unwind but knew if he could get to the wood, he could be free.He could be en route to Buenos Aires, where he would put good.
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