Deep Black

77

Tuesday, 14 October

We had been following the Audi’s tail-lights at a distance for about an hour and forty when Salkic sparked up. ‘We are nearly at the transfer point.’

I guessed the next stage of the journey wasn’t going to be as comfortable. He dug down round his neck and pulled out two keys on a chain, the sort ID tags are attached to. With luck, they belonged to a nice warm vehicle. I didn’t fancy tabbing through the cuds in this kind of weather.

‘Everything you have with you will stay with Nasir.’

Jerry leaned into the space between the front seats. ‘What about my camera? If he lets me take some shots, I’ll—’

Salkic turned to him, his face steely. ‘Nothing must be brought with us. Certainly no electrical devices. We will also search you. Don’t worry, everything will be returned after you have seen Hasan.’

The front Audi’s tail-lights glowed red, and stayed on. As we closed, Salkic talked cautiously into his Motorola.

We were almost on top of them before we could see the problem. The way ahead was blocked by a dead cow, and her mates didn’t seem keen to let us through. We couldn’t drive round them because of the barbed-wire fences either side of us.

It looked as if the road ran past a farm. A collection of barns stood just off to the right, rough old things knocked up out of concrete blocks and corrugated iron.

Nasir braked to a complete halt, lifting his foot off the pedal when we’d stopped to kill the rear lights. Then he threw the gearshift into reverse and started backing up as the other driver and a leather boy got out to investigate.

Salkic held the radio near his mouth, his eyes fixed on where we’d just been. ‘This is where we leave Nasir and his people. They will go back to Sarajevo. I will take you to Hasan.’

We stopped about a hundred metres back, lights off, and waited. Nasir was cautious: he knew his drills. A frantic voice screamed over the net. Nasir went for the AK as a huge, dark mass roared out from one of the barns behind blazing lights, bouncing cows out of its way as it aimed for Benzil’s Audi. Jerry pushed back into his seat, transfixed by the mechanical monster’s headlights.

As the truck bore down on them, the leather boys ran back to their car. One of them managed to pull an AK and the muzzle flared in the darkness.

Salkic hollered into his radio, for all the good that was going to do. There was another burst from the AK, but it didn’t stop the Audi getting T-boned dead centre and being bounced back into the fence.

Nasir threw open his door and jumped out at the same time as I did, his AK at the ready, yelling at the other two. I grabbed at Jerry’s coat as rounds started to puncture the bodywork. ‘Out the fucking car!’

The barbed wire buckled as the wheels of Benzil’s Audi dug into the mud for a second or two before it toppled over on to its side. Automatic fire rattled among the barns as the truck ground to a halt, its headlights spilling across the wreckage and the sharply rising ground beyond it.

Rounds hammered into the side panel, inches away from me. Jerry twisted and tore away from my grip. He screamed once and dropped to the tarmac like liquid.

Shit. I fell with him.

His body was still wriggling.

‘I’m OK, OK.’

Nasir was to my right, static and firing at the muzzle flashes that tore through the darkness from the direction of the farm buildings. He was calm and controlled, taking short bursts, making every round count. I didn’t look back, just got my head down and legged it towards what was left of Benzil’s Audi.

More bursts from the right. They were moving positions so they could get rounds into the heap of tangled metal wrapped round the front of the truck. Rounds zinged off the tarmac.

Shit, shit, shit. Don’t look, just keep going.

Another four, maybe five sustained bursts.

I was nearly at the wreckage. The Audi was lying on its left side, wedged against the truck’s radiator grille. The truck driver was slumped over his steering-wheel.

‘Benzil! Benzil!’

I peered through the Audi’s mud-splattered windscreen. There was nobody inside.

‘Benzil! Benzil!’

One of the leather boys had been crushed between the two vehicles. I felt about for his weapon among the mangled flesh and steel.

A semi-automatic opened up from the high ground behind me, punctuating the frenzied shouts in Serbo-Croat that echoed all around us. Who the fuck was who?

‘Benzil!’

No weapon found. I lay flat in the mud, using the Audi for cover, wishing I could dig myself into the ground. More rounds ripped into it from the barn, and again from the high ground. One of the leather boys was jumping up and down, yelling to me to move up. Then, as he gave me more covering fire, his muzzle flash illuminated Benzil kneeling by his side.

Fuck it, deep breath. I legged it up the hill towards him, only to be catapulted back down into the mud by the remains of the barbed-wire fence. The more I tried to untangle myself, the more it cut into my jeans and skin. The leather boy shouted something at me before returning fire, as if he thought I was deliberately taking my time.

I kicked free and kept well to the right of him as he squeezed off burst after burst. I saw Benzil again in the muzzle flash, lying at his feet now, waving me over.

No time to be static. I ran over to Benzil and grabbed hold of his overcoat. ‘Come on, up!’

The leather boy was changing mags, but he was an accident waiting to happen. He was failing to move after each burst; he was going to get hit soon and I didn’t want us anywhere near him when it happened. I kept moving uphill and to the left, dragging Benzil, trying to get us out of the line of fire and back towards what I hoped was a surviving Audi.

I pushed Benzil into the mud as two endless streams of tracer sailed over our heads. The leather boy went ballistic, then stopped firing and crumpled.

‘Stay here!’

I slipped and slid my way back down the slope, finally landing on my arse beside him. He was alive, but wouldn’t be for much longer.