Deep Black

98

He wasn’t Nuhanovic any more, he was just a target. It had always been easier for me to think of people that way before I killed them.

Hood down, I set off fast along the track. If a vehicle came down the road I’d have to go noisy and take it on with the G3. If the target wasn’t aboard, we’d have lost him for sure, but what choice did I have?

Fir branches scratched my face as I pushed my way through. Trapped water cascaded down on me.

Every ten paces I stopped, holding my left hand behind me until Jerry jammed into it. We had to keep together in the dark. Conditions were good underfoot: soft pine needles kept the noise down.

I did another ten metres and stopped, butt of the G3 on the ground, leaning forward with both hands on the barrel as I rested, taking deep breaths and waiting for Jerry to bump into me. I was soaked with sweat under all the layers of clothes, and it dripped down my face, making the scratches sting.

This time he got up close, his panting, minging breath across the side of my face. ‘That’s just over eighteen hundred.’

‘We’ll go a bit slower now; eyes open for the track junction on the left, OK?’

I closed my mouth, trying to get some saliva going to help my dry throat, and pushed myself upright on the G3.

A few minutes later I was at the junction with the track up to the house. I stopped again and waited. Now it was going to be his turn to smell my breath. It was eerily quiet, not a hint of wind to stir the trees. ‘Count off five hundred this time, OK? After that we’ll cut right and work our way through the trees towards the boundary wall. I want to box around that checkpoint.’

‘Got it.’

We moved off again, keeping in the middle of the track. I had the G3 in my hands. There wasn’t time to move tactically, weapon in the shoulder. I just moved with my head tilted to the right, keeping my ear pointed along the track. My eyes were hard right in their sockets, staring into the darkness ahead, trying to see any movement, any light, any indication of bodies.

I stopped and listened every five or six metres, trying to take deep, controlled breaths. Sweat poured down my face. Eventually Jerry came up, his mouth near my ear. ‘Five hundred.’

I set off very slowly this time, weapon held at its point of balance in my right hand. The left reached behind for Jerry, making sure we had contact all the time.

About one fifty short of the checkpoint, I could still see and hear nothing. We could have played safe and cut right, into the forest, but that would have slowed us down even more. We’d just have to stay on the track for as long as we could.

Another twenty and there was a clanking of metal, forward and left. I froze. I could see nothing but black and then more black.