Close Quarters

FIFTY-TWO

I threw the branch away and ran back round the lake. I was heading up the slope when I heard three short whistles and looked up to see Travis beating his arm downwards in a frantic ‘hit the deck’ signal, before he dropped out of sight.

Even travelling at high speed the Lancer’s tuned engine hadn’t carried far, and was almost on me before I knew it. I dropped to the ground and heard the buzz on the road as it went by. Then I heard the harsher sound of the UAZ coming. I stayed where I was and cocked the Ero. The Lancer would have been going too fast to see any detail at ground level, but the UAZ was making heavy weather and the men inside would have more time to study the surrounding countryside.

I waited as the high-pitched whine of the tyres went by and counted to ten. No slowing down, no change of engine note. Gone.

I gave it another count of ten to be sure then jacked myself to my feet and started running.

I was almost at the top of the slope when I heard the squeal of brakes behind me. I turned to see the UAZ doing a virtual ninety-degree turn off the road, its tyres stuttering as they lost traction on the surface. It barrelled across the verge and started on down the slope, and a soldier in the back stuck a rifle out the window and began firing.

He was good. I guessed he’d been trained to shoot while mobile, and was probably a member of a Russian raider force. I heard the snap of rounds going past me and saw grass being kicked up in vicious clumps, the shots following me up the slope like angry hornets. Something plucked at my sleeve and I knew I was running out of luck. I dived off the slope and rolled behind cover.

The UAZ was still coming, following the same path round the lake that we’d just taken, the engine howling as the driver pushed it as hard as he could.

I looked out and levelled the Ero, waiting for the right moment. Where I was lying I was in dead ground. If the UAZ appeared, I’d have maybe two seconds to open fire and take them out of the game.

The engine started grinding as it hit the slope and I got ready to go for it, following the sound as it came nearer.

Then I heard the flat bark of a semi-automatic, firing evenly spaced rounds.

Travis?

I looked up. He was on the rise above me, using a two-handed grip, feet planted wide and shooting down the slope at the oncoming vehicle. He was right out in the open, and looked pale and unsteady, but determined, and had evidently remembered enough from live firing exercises to know what to do.

The UAZ’s engine note changed and went up the scale for a few seconds, rising to a screech, then it fell silent and Travis stopped firing. ‘Portman, come on!’

I scrambled up the slope and looked behind me. The UAZ was nose-down in the lake, muddy water washing around the base of the windshield and steam brushing across the windshield and roof. I could see the driver slumped over the wheel, but two soldiers had already scrambled out of the back and were rolling desperately into the reeds to find cover. One of them turned and fired off a couple of wild shots with his rifle before disappearing.

I fired a return burst with the Ero, peppering the reeds and digging holes in the side panels and windows of the UAZ.

Silence.

‘Good work,’ I told Travis. ‘Get the car and I’ll check them out.’

I jogged back down to the UAZ. The driver was out of it, slumped over the wheel with blood on his face. I walked over to where I’d seen the two soldiers dive into cover, ready to return fire if they came up shooting. But it wasn’t necessary. The first one had lost his weapon and was clutching at a bloody wound in his leg. When he saw me he forgot about the wound and shook his head, throwing up his empty hands. I motioned for him to stay where he was and went looking for his pal. He was half in the water, but buoyed up by the reeds and holding his arms out wide. He looked dazed and wet, all the fight gone out of him.

I dragged both men out on to solid ground and told them to lie down back to back, then stripped out their bootlaces and tied their thumbs together. It would be uncomfortable but bearable. And at least they were alive to tell the tale. I checked the wounded man’s leg but it wasn’t a killer. The driver was coming round so I left him where he was.

Travis drove up in the Land Cruiser and I climbed in. He took us back round the lake and up the other side, and we got back on the road heading west.

The Lancer was coming towards us, kicking up dust.

‘Keep going,’ I told Travis, and took the Grach. The Ero was virtually empty and I didn’t want to have to change weapons in mid-fight if it came to it.

It did.

The Lancer saw us and slowed, then swung across the road to block us. Nobody got out, and I figured they were ready to move if we tried to squeeze by them. All it would take was a nudge and we’d be off the road and helpless.

We got to within a hundred yards when I said, ‘Stop.’

This kind of stuff could go on all day long if I didn’t neutralize them. For all I knew they had reinforcements on the way here or others ahead of us ready to block the road. It was time to call a halt.

Travis stamped hard on the pedal and the Land Cruiser slewed sideways as the brakes bit unevenly. I was out of the car before it stopped moving and walking towards the Lancer. I could see Grey Suit sitting there watching me, mouth open, and the driver frantically moving the gear shift to go.

This was something they hadn’t expected. In their world fugitives simply don’t get out of their cars and walk towards trouble.

Well, this one does.

I fired twice into the nearside tyres as I approached the car, and twice more into the engine block, killing it dead. Or maybe the driver stalled it in his haste to move. Just for effect I put another round through the rear window. I’ve been in a car taking incoming shots and the noise of impact damage is considerable. No matter how experienced you are, when a window goes bang it’s enough to scramble the brain and delay a reaction.

The two men sat very still.

I signalled for them to get out of the car and told them to sit on the ground at the side of the road. The driver was in standard police uniform, but he didn’t have the look of a real cop to me, and was shaking with nerves. Grey Suit was a different animal altogether; he looked mad enough to spit but kept his mouth shut. Wise man.

I motioned Travis to drive by. It was a squeeze but he made it. Then I leaned into the Lancer and disabled the car radio, and tossed a cell phone I found into the ditch at the side of the road.