Battleground

Chapter Seven

In Kampur, the mood was one of alarm.

Miss Messenger had her hands clutched together, like a woman praying. The redness around her eyes suggested she had been crying. Mr Sawyer and Mr Knight prowled at the front of the classroom where they had all congregated, their faces as dark as storm clouds. Carl kept running his hand nervously through his slicked-back hair, looking like he hadn’t slept. The students just sat in silence.

‘We need to know,’ Mr Knight said, ‘who the last person to see Ben was. Did anyone have any conversations with him after school yesterday? Anything at all?’

Ed kept his mouth shut and looked at the floor. He had seen Ben, of course, just before he went off to do his knight-in-shining-armour bit, showing off in front of the girl after the local lads had knocked him down. But he wasn’t going to tell anybody else that. He didn’t like Ben Tracey and he didn’t trust him. Chances were that he was just off hiding somewhere, making life difficult for everyone else. And anyway, if Ed did admit to having seen him, everyone would probably start blaming him. They always did. No, he thought. Much better to keep quiet like everyone else.

‘All right, everybody,’ Mr Knight continued when there was no answer to his question. ‘I don’t want anyone to panic. We’ve informed the British Embassy and they’re sending someone out as soon as possible. In the meantime, we’re all going to stay together.’

Rebecca put her hand up. ‘Will we have to go home, sir?’

‘Possibly,’ said Mr Knight. ‘We don’t know yet. Anyway, I’m sure everything will be OK. Ben will turn up any moment. I’ve no doubt there’s an explanation for this. He’s a very sensible young man. I’m sure he’s fine. Absolutely fine.’

Ed examined his teacher’s face. He couldn’t help thinking that Mr Knight didn’t look too convinced. Nor did anyone else. But Ed kept quiet all the same, lowering his head and continuing to stare innocently at the floor.

Across the border, the vehicle’s engine juddered into motion. Ben’s senses were screaming at him to try and get out, but he knew he couldn’t. He felt like he was in a moving prison.

Their guard did not take his eyes off them and Ben couldn’t help staring at his strange face. The one albino eye seemed to see further than the other; and the scaly skin on the side of his neck made him look like a reptile. He wore a cream-coloured robe, embroidered round the neck. It was stained and dirty. The sandals on his feet were sturdy but well used. Everything about him made Ben’s blood run cold.

The road was bumpy, which did nothing for Ben’s sore body. Eyeing the rifle nervously, he saw that White-eye’s finger was on the trigger and he hoped the bumps would not cause him to fire by accident. Next to him, Aarya was still sobbing. He stretched out a hand to comfort her, but immediately saw the man jerk his gun. Ben quickly held up his hands then lowered them onto his knees.

They continued in silence.

In the back of Ben’s mind something told him he should be talking. Getting this guy’s trust. Distracting him, even. ‘Aarya,’ he said in a low voice. ‘Translate for me, OK?’

Aarya nodded. There were still tears in her eyes.

‘Ask him what his name is.’

The girl spoke. It was clear she was addressing their guard, but he refused to acknowledge her. Or even to look at her.

‘Ask him again,’ Ben urged when they received no reply.

Aarya opened her mouth to speak, but she was interrupted.

‘You do not have to ask the girl.’ Their captor spoke in slow, heavily accented English. ‘I understand your language. To know a man’s language is to know how he thinks, and I wish to know whatever I can about my enemy.’ His eyes burned with hatred.

Ben nodded slowly. ‘My name’s Ben,’ he said, doing his best to keep his voice level. ‘What’s yours?’

‘Amir,’ he replied with a curling lip. ‘But it is not important to you.’

Ben shrugged. ‘Just like to know who my travelling companions are,’ he murmured.

‘What did you say?’

‘Nothing. Where are we going?’

Amir smiled. It wasn’t a pleasant sight. He shook his head as though Ben had asked a stupid question.

‘I only want to know where we’re going.’

No reply.

‘What do you want with us? Why have we been kidnapped?’

No reply.

Ben and Aarya exchanged a glance and the vehicle continued to trundle along.

It was another ten minutes before Ben spoke again. ‘We could use some water,’ he said.

Amir’s white eye bulged slightly. ‘You will get water when we give it to you,’ he said. ‘If we give it to you…’

‘I don’t think so,’ Ben replied boldly. ‘We’re here for a reason. I don’t think you want us dying of thirst.’

Amir narrowed his eyes. He leaned forward slightly and whispered. ‘I would very gladly kill you now,’ he said. ‘Do not think you are so important to us.’ He sat back and gazed at them, seemingly pleased with what he had just said.

Ben’s dry mouth turned drier. Now that he’d got Amir talking, however, he knew he had to keep it up; and he knew what his next question needed to be.

‘What’s in the package?’ he asked. ‘What are we carrying?’

Amir licked his lips and his eyes burned a little brighter. He looked from left to right, as if afraid that there was someone nearby who could hear him speak. At the last minute, though, he squinted suspiciously at Ben, drew a deep breath and clamped his lips shut.

Ben didn’t give up. ‘Something precious, I bet,’ he said.

‘Be quiet,’ Amir said. To emphasize his point he nudged his gun forward.

‘You all seemed to be carrying it very carefully,’ Ben persisted.

‘Silence!’

And from Aarya, a nervous warning. ‘Ben…?’

Ben kept his eyes on Amir. ‘What does it matter if we know? It’s not like we can do anything about it.’

Amir was clearly struggling with himself. He wanted to tell — to gloat. Maybe, Ben thought, he should pretend not to be interested. Perhaps that would drive him wild. He shrugged. ‘Fine,’ he said. ‘I bet it’s nothing important anyway.’

The white eye burned. ‘You do not know what you are talking about.’

Ben continued to look uninterested.

‘What we are carrying,’ Amir spat, ‘will change the future of our war.’ His face shone at the idea.

‘I don’t think so, mate,’ Ben said nonchalantly. ‘Looks more like a suitcase of old clothes to me.’

That smile again. ‘A suitcase.’ Amir nodded. ‘Yes, a suitcase. But not full of clothes. No, not full of clothes.’

Amir was excited now. Ben could sense it, and he knew Aarya could too. She was holding her breath, listening to their captor’s every word, even though the man opposite them refused even to look at her.

‘A suitcase bomb,’ Amir whispered. And then, as if he was playing his trump card: ‘Nuclear!’ His smile looked like it was going to take over his whole face. ‘When I was just a child it was taken from the hated Soviets who occupied our land. They think it is lost. The whole world thinks it is lost. But the whole world is wrong! It has been hidden in many places since then. Many places. Always we have known the time will come when we will have need of it. That time is now upon us.’

He wasn’t whispering any more. Far from it: he was almost shouting. And as he came to the end of his little speech, he appeared to realize that he had said too much. The triumph dissolved from his face and he reverted to a scowl. ‘Now,’ he said, ‘you will be quiet. Unless you want this day to be your last.’

They had been driving for about three hot, uncomfortable hours when the vehicle came to a sudden halt. ‘Do not move,’ Amir instructed. ‘Or it will end badly for you.’

They watched him open the door and get out. Sunlight streamed in. It made Ben squint, and by the time he had regained his vision, he felt himself being pulled roughly out of the truck by someone he didn’t recognize. He was thrown onto the dry, stony ground while Aarya was also dragged out. ‘Ow!’ he shouted, but nobody paid any attention. They just manhandled Aarya down too.

Ben looked around. They had arrived at a small settlement — little more than two mud-walled compounds on either side of a wide dirt track. In the distance, Ben saw they were almost surrounded by high, craggy mountains. Outside one of the compounds there was a tree with green leaves — they appeared almost fluorescent against the deep blue sky and the beige, sandy earth. Ben wondered for a moment how a tree could survive in such inhospitable surroundings. Each compound had a rickety wooden gate and the one nearest to Ben was open. Men in traditional dress were standing outside. Ben searched for Amir, but couldn’t find him.

They were hauled to their feet by armed men, then dragged through the gate and into the compound. Ben tried to work out the geography of the place. There was a main central courtyard with a stone well in the middle. Around the courtyard was a series of rooms, each with a wooden door. He couldn’t tell what was beyond the doors, but he assumed that this was where people lived, because around him he saw the signs of habitation: clothes drying in the sun, the remnants of a fire, even a little patch of land where vegetables were being grown. Some elderly men sat in the shade of a wall. Their beards were grey and their faces as brown and grooved as a walnut. They watched Ben and Aarya with curiosity, though they did nothing to stop the rough way they were being treated.

Before Ben could take anything else in, he and Aarya were led to one of these wooden doors. They were flung inside the room and the door was closed behind them. A scratching sound told Ben that it was being locked.

‘We have to do something,’ he hissed.

Aarya’s tears had stopped, but now she had a shell-shocked stare and looked like she was a million miles away. She didn’t reply.

‘Aarya, come on — we have to do something.’

‘Do something? What can we do?’

‘I don’t know,’ Ben replied. ‘Escape, I guess. Warn someone what’s going on. I don’t know what they’re going to do with that suitcase bomb, but let’s face it, I don’t think they’re saving it up for Bonfire Night.’

‘For what?’

‘Never mind.’

Ben turned his attention to the room. It looked lived in. Against the far wall there was a low bed with an old mosquito net hanging over it. An oil lamp lay on the sandy, dusty floor and there were clothes in piles around the bed. The only light came from a gap in the wall far too small for anyone to climb through. Ben peered through it. All he saw was an expanse of featureless desert, bleak and unwelcoming, with a wobbly haze of heat rising from the ground. He felt panic surfacing once more, and did what he could to suppress it. There was no time for that. They had to do what they could to get out of here.

‘Aarya,’ he whispered. ‘We need to search this place. Find anything we can to help us.’

Aarya looked at him as if he was mad. ‘We can’t get out of here,’ she said waspishly.

Ben barely heard her. He was already rummaging through the piles of clothes looking for something — anything — that they could use. He found a battery-operated torch, but it didn’t work, and opening it up he saw that the batteries had long since started leaking a foul brown liquid. Under the bed there was a small cardboard box containing a few books, an old black and white photograph and a cigarette lighter.

Ben took the lighter, then turned his attention to the oil lamp. It was a chance…

He hurried over to the lamp. ‘What are you doing?’ Aarya asked, but Ben was concentrating too hard to answer. The lamp was ornate, with a brass bottom and a long glass bulb. Ben fiddled gently with it until he managed to take it apart. To his satisfaction he saw a healthy reservoir of oil in the bottom. Taking care not to spill any, he put it carefully on the ground, then returned to the pile of clothes. He found an old set of robes and tore off a strip of material before going back to the lamp and soaking the cloth with the fuel until it was all absorbed. He put the oil-soaked rag in one pocket and the lighter in another.

‘What will you do with that?’ Aarya asked.

Ben narrowed his eyes and crouched down to the floor, where he scooped up a large handful of dust. That too went in his pocket with the lighter. Only then did he turn to Aarya and answer her question.

‘Listen carefully,’ he said. ‘I’ve got an idea…’