Deep Black

101

I grabbed the door handle and we legged it down the corridor. My left hand was out, ready to make contact with the door at the other end. I got there; took a breath, listened. There were voices the other side, four or five of them. The vehicle was static, but not in the courtyard.

Trying to block out the sounds of our breathing, I put my ear to the wood, my right hand firmly on the pistol grip, safety catch still off, trigger finger still across the guard.

The voices were urgent and low. None was the target’s. Then his gentle tones sparked up, calming everyone down.

The engine noise got suddenly louder. The gates must have been opened.

‘Stand by.’

I fumbled for the handle with my left hand. My fingers closed round it and I pulled back. The headlights were blinding.

I made out a mass of bodies in the beams, shrouded in their own breath and exhaust fumes.

From just two feet away a body loomed in front of me, weapon coming up. I fired; he went down. His AK clattered across the threshold.

There were screams and shouts from near the vehicle. The driver revved the engine. Weapons came up into the aim.

I just blatted away, single shots at anything that moved, then into the vehicle.

Shit, it started moving.

Rounds came back at us, taking chunks out of the plasterwork that sandblasted my face.

I turned and legged it down the corridor. Jerry grabbed the AK from the floor, its barrel dragging behind him as he wrestled with the butt. ‘Back to the gate! Back to the gate!’

We burst through the door at the far end and headed across the family courtyard. Screams and movement under the veranda. It was a cluster of bottle-washers. They ducked when they saw us.

I was half-way across when we started taking fire from the follow-up behind us. I stopped, turned, and returned fire into the passage doorway.

Jerry was to my right. He ran past me as I fired controlled shots, trying to stop them leaving the passageway.

I squeezed off two more rounds at the door before Jerry started firing.

I turned on the spot and ran, got about four paces past him, turned again and started to fire. ‘Move, Jerry! Move! Move!’

He didn’t need to be told twice.

He stopped, turned, fired.

I turned, ran, stopped, fired.

As Jerry came past me I squeezed the trigger again. Nothing. Dead man’s click.

I dropped the weapon and kept running. Jerry was already the other side of the door, using the frame for cover as he fired. I passed him, then headed down towards the checkpoint, hugging the wall. I couldn’t see any moving lights. But there were shouts ahead of me in the darkness.

I pulled the Thuraya from my parka and held it to my face. ‘Fire mission! Fire mission!’ Fuck the signal: if I got one, it’d work. I had to get down there to see where the fucking wagon was.

Jerry was not many paces behind me when we started taking fire. The follow-up were through the gate and putting some down.

I swung left and dived into the treeline. ‘On me, on me!’

I just kept going, crashing through the trees, trying to keep parallel to the wall. They ran down the gap, firing into the darkness, their muzzle flashes rippling across the tree-trunks.

We plunged on towards the checkpoint. With luck, the chicane was the only way out.

With no more than twenty metres to go, the follow-up got level with us. I stumbled and fell. Jerry stood his ground and opened up with long bursts. The noise was deafening. His white muzzle flash lit the darkness. Ejected rounds tumbled over my back.

I was still fighting to get up when Jerry let out a high-pitched scream. He collapsed on top of me, still firing, rounds going way up into the canopy before both he and the AK fell silent.

His blood was hot and wet on my face as I pushed him off me. The follow-up were still firing into the treeline, everywhere, anywhere; I grabbed him by the legs and pulled him deeper into the forest.

It wasn’t far, but enough to buy me time. I collapsed next to him. His breathing was rapid and rasping, spraying me with blood at each exhalation.

I ran my fingers over his chest and found the entry wound in his stomach. No need to feel for the exit. My hand slid into it as I turned him over.

More screams from the follow-up.

Jerry gripped my head with both his hands, bringing me down to him with the last of his energy. ‘Fucked up . . . sorry.’

I threw my arms round him and gripped hard as he jerked his last resistance. Seconds later, his body went limp. I checked his neck. There was no pulse.

The follow-up still fired blindly into the trees. They were covering the light I now saw moving out from the guest doorway.

I laid Jerry’s body down and scrambled forward. A vehicle was just pulling out of the gates, guys running all around it, shouting at each other. It was chaos. One of the headlights was shot out.

I kept low and tumbled through the undergrowth to the left, down to where the treeline met the chicane.

The wagon was coming down towards me. I couldn’t see if the target was inside or not.

It got closer and slowly negotiated the first hedgehog. The rear window was open. The target was talking to his protection as they ran alongside, even smiling at them as he pointed towards the follow-up. Then his head went back inside, and made itself comfortable against the headrest. The window powered up.

I looked down and checked the Thuraya. Fucking canopy.