Chapter Forty
Forty
He made the munitions plant gates and the waiting ambulance after what seemed like an eternity of sodden footfalls in rain that pelted his naked head and the drenched shoulders of his coat like punishment.
He slipped numbly through the iron gap they’d opened on the way in, a lifetime ago.
He stood drenched in the downpour and the wet yellow gleam of the head lamps.
Mike Collier got out in a hooded army-issue rain cape, came round the front of the vehicle to meet him. Stared past him, out through the gates to the abandoned plant beyond.
“The others?”
Duncan shook his head. Rain trickled down his cheeks, dripped off his jaw.
“Fucking hell, are you sure?”
“I’m sure. Get us out of here.”
“But—”
Duncan looked at him. Collier flinched.
“It’s over,” Duncan told him. “Nothing we can do is going to change anything that matters now.”