The Watchman

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With grateful thanks to Geoff Weighell, pilot and CEO of the British Microlight Aircraft Association (BMAA), for his patience and clarity. Without it, Portman’s role in this book would have been short, sharp and painful.

I know the sound of a semi-automatic weapon being cocked. Some might mistake it for a briefcase lock mechanism or a workman slapping a power unit into a high-speed drill. It’s similar but not the same.

And I’d just heard it in the corridor outside my hotel room.

I stepped over to the door and listened, heard the brush of footsteps on the carpet, a hushed cough and heavy, nasal breathing. The movement stopped outside the next door along and I was guessing it wasn’t the room maid.

Wary of getting my eyeball blown out, I took a quick look through the peephole.

Three guys, heads in close like they were having a team talk. Their features were blown out of shape by the fish-eye lens, but I made out dark, unshaven faces and the standard Colombian attire of crumpled jackets and pants.

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