Next, Ben visualised himself abandoning the controls and rushing rearwards to grab the tail machine gun and empty it in the direction of the soldiers who tried to storm into the building after him. Piling them up like sandbags all over the front steps. Then clambering up to the main gun turret and turning his attention on the inside of the building, wreaking all kinds of destruction before making his exit back out of the hatch and escaping through the smoke and confusion to go and find Khosa.
Not exactly a subtle kind of strategy. Potentially effective, more than likely a one-way ticket for him. Ben had no problem with that. As long as he achieved what he’d set out to do, he was willing to pay the boatman. Nothing else mattered.
Ben remembered the witch doctor’s prediction of his death. Maybe the weird old bastard had been able to see something, after all. Should have put money on it.
He took three deep breaths. His pockets were weighed down with spare ammunition and there was a fresh thirty-round mag clipped into his weapon. Cocked, locked, set to fire, good to go. He wasn’t afraid. He would leave that part to his enemies.
He shouldered his rifle, muttered, ‘Fuck it,’ and stepped out of the doorway to meet whatever was coming.
Except that he hadn’t sensed the presence behind him.
‘Psst,’ said the voice.
Chapter 45
‘Psst,’ was one of those handy phrases to grab someone’s attention when you were about to shoot them.
Ben whirled. Gun up, finger on trigger, eyes wide, heart jolting. He hadn’t known many men who could sneak up behind him unnoticed. But this one had. He’d either been inside the house since before Ben arrived, or he’d crept in through the same back door and made his way through to the front in absolute panther-like silence.
‘Hello, arsehole. Thought I might find you here.’
Jeff Dekker had his arms folded, his lips pursed into a lopsided sneer, and didn’t seem particularly pleased to be reunited with his old pal.
‘Jesus Christ,’ Ben muttered, lowering the gun.
‘No, just little old me. I’m almost impressed you managed to survive this long, gallivanting about this delightful place on your own. Having fun, are we?’
Ben stepped closer to him, back into the shadows of the doorway. The soldiers across the street had noticed nothing.
‘What the hell are you doing here?’
‘Uh, that would be saving your skin, Major Hope. Intervening just as you were apparently about to do something very moronic, even by your standards. What the bloody hell were you thinking?’
The radio gave another belch of static, followed by a burst of distorted voices saying something Ben didn’t catch. He ignored it.
‘Don’t call me that.’
‘What, moronic?’
‘Major.’
Jeff frowned at him, then unslung the submachine gun hanging from his shoulder and waved it in the direction of the back door. ‘Whatever. Now, if you don’t mind, as one shepherd said to the other, I suggest we get the flock out of here. In a couple of minutes’ time this place will be crawling with our new friends.’
Ben shook his head. ‘I’m not going anywhere. Khosa’s still in there.’
Jeff leaned past Ben’s shoulder, cocking an eyebrow as he peered across the street. He shook his head. ‘Not anymore, he isn’t.’
Ben turned and followed Jeff’s gaze out of the doorway, just as General Khosa emerged from the mansion and went storming towards his Hummer at the head of a swarm of his soldiers. ‘Doesn’t look like a happy chappie, does he?’ Jeff said. ‘For a guy who’s just scored a total walkover of a coup and is all set to become the next governor of this shithole. Wonder what’s biting him.’
As they watched, Khosa ripped open the passenger door of the Hummer and climbed angrily inside. Moments later it took off with a squeal of tyres while his soldiers piled into the rest of the vehicles, U-turned across the lawns, trampling several of the dead bodies under their wheels, and the whole procession streamed out of the gates with the armoured cars rumbling along in their wake. Going off in a real hurry, as though something serious had come up.
Ben caught a glimpse of Khosa through the window of the Hummer as it roared past. The driver was punching the gas hard and the engine was revving loudly as they accelerated away, heading west on Avenue Laurent Kabila. The General had a radio handset clamped to his ear and was yelling into it like a crazy man.
One momentary glimpse. One fleeting chance.
Ben slammed the butt of the rifle tight into the crook of his shoulder and tracked the speeding vehicle in his sights. Giving it just enough lead for the figure in the passenger window to travel into the path of his burst of full-auto fire. His finger curled around the trigger, mounting up the pounds of pressure.
His perfect sight picture was jerked away as Jeff grabbed the muzzle of the rifle and jerked it downwards. Seeing the look on Ben’s face, Jeff let go as if the barrel were red-hot, and stepped back with both hands raised. ‘All right, then. Take the shot, if that’s what you want. Get it off your chest. Kill the bastard. But don’t look at me when the rest of them turn right round and blow this house apart with us inside.’
It was too late to fire. The line of vehicles was speeding away with the Hummer at its head. And in any case, Ben knew Jeff was right.
But it was painful to let him go like this, with no way of knowing when he’d catch up with the man again. Ben watched his target disappear into the distance. ‘Khosa,’ he seethed through gritted teeth.
‘To hell with Khosa,’ Jeff said. ‘The fucker won’t live long, whether it’s our bullet or someone else’s that does the job.’
‘You don’t understand,’ Ben said.
‘Look at me, Ben.’
Ben looked at him. Jeff’s eyes were hard and small, the way they went when he was deadly serious.
‘I understand that angry’s not the word for how you feel. I feel that way too. That’s why we need to back off here. Because angry guys fuck up, and fucking up will get you fucking killed, my friend. You know it’s true, because you’ve seen it happen even more times than I have, to good men who should’ve known better.’
Ben said nothing.
‘So drop it. We’ll get the bastard another time – that, I promise you. But for now, this place is gone tits up and we’re out of it. Mani’s waiting for you.’
‘You found him?’
Jeff’s rock-hard expression melted into a grin. ‘That’s not all I found. Bet you can’t wait to see.’
Ben was about to reply when the radio gave another popping fizz and a hiss of static that dissolved into the sound of a crackly voice. It was just a nuisance, no longer any use to him, and he went to turn it off.
But then he stopped. Listened. Heard the same voice again, blurting through the traffic. The caller wasn’t speaking French or Swahili. He wasn’t giving a military call sign to identify himself. He was using real names, which was something no soldier would do over the radio.
The signal was scrambled and kept breaking up. But there was no mistaking that voice.
Chapter 46
‘Bloody hell,’ Jeff burst out. ‘Am I dreaming, or is that—’
Ben held up a hand to silence him.
‘Be … pe … re you re … ing me? This is … ude. Over.’ Pause. Then moments later: ‘… en Hope? If y … out there, pl … respond … This … Jude. Ov … ’
Ben’s hands were suddenly shaking so badly that he could barely press the transmission button. He cleared his throat. ‘Copy Lima Charlie—’ he began out of habit, which was army radio-speak for ‘receiving you loud and clear’. Catching himself, he reverted to non-military language but decided on the spot to use code to identify themselves only by their inverted initials. This was an open channel and anyone could be listening. ‘Alpha Juliet, this is Hotel Bravo. Acknowledged. Where are you? What’s happening? Over.’
‘I’m … city. H … with Tuesday … coming to find you.’
‘He’s at Khosa’
s base,’ Jeff blurted incredulously. ‘How the buggery bollocks did he get there?’
Ben closed his eyes. His legs felt suddenly weak under him, and he badly needed to sit down. He could hardly believe he was talking to Jude, and that Jude was alive and safe. ‘Alpha Juliet, are you okay? Over.’
Pause. Buzz. Chatter. Then, ‘I’m … kay.’
‘But your hand—’
Burp. Fizz. ‘Wh … about it?’
‘They cut it off. The bracelet. I saw it. I—’
The signal seemed to falter for a moment, and Ben was scared he was going to lose it. Then he heard Jude say, ‘N … mine. Just … trick. I’m okay. Not hurt. Com … to find you. Over.’
A trick! Ben was so stunned, his head was spinning. He no longer cared if any number of Khosa’s soldiers, even Khosa himself, might be listening in on their conversation. Let them.
‘Negative,’ he replied, almost yelling into the radio. ‘Maintain your position. Do you copy? I repeat, stay put. Do not leave the city. We will come to you. Over.’
‘Tell him we’ll be with him in thirty,’ Jeff said.
Ben looked at him. ‘What?’
‘Give or take. Trust me. Go on, tell him.’
Not understanding what his friend was talking about, Ben hit the transmission button again and said, ‘Hold tight, Alpha Juliet. We’ll be with you soon. Repeat, we will be with you soon. Over and out.’
‘Let’s go,’ Jeff said the instant Ben shut down the call. ‘I have a Jeep out the back.’
They ran through the house and outside into the sun-blanched heat of the empty street. Jeff’s vehicle was a Suzuki four-wheel-drive with a badly buckled front end that looked like recent damage. Its screen was cut down and a light machine gun on a swivel mount pointed between the front seats, overhanging the bonnet. They jumped in, stowing their weapons at their feet where they could get to them fast if needed. Jeff fired up the engine and the acceleration jerked them back in their seats.
Jeff seemed to know where he was going. He swerved out onto the deserted Avenue Laurent Kabila and hung the next right, clipping the corner of the kerb and taking them up an adjoining street that flanked the tree-lined grounds of the governor’s residence. The warm wind and the scent of tree blossoms swirled around them in the open cab, mixed with the tang of cordite and burning diesel fuel wafting in from the battle zones all over the city.
‘As long as we don’t run into too many of our friends,’ Jeff yelled over the roar of the engine, ‘we should make it all right. Get ready to jump on that LMG, just in case.’
The weapon looked like a relic from World War II. ‘Does it work?’
‘Ticks away smooth as a sewing machine,’ Jeff said.
Ben didn’t bother to ask how he knew. He had a more pressing question, one that he couldn’t hold back any longer. ‘Mind explaining to me how you plan to get back to base in just half an hour?’
Jeff pressed his foot down harder and flashed Ben another of his trademark grins. ‘Like I said, I figured I’d find you somewhere around the governor’s pad, because that’s where both of the Khosa brothers would be. Got myself in a couple of tangles on the way and had to take a bit of a roundabout route. Anyway, while I was hunting about, I came across … well, you’ll see soon enough.’
They skirted around the back of the mansion and kept going, zigzagging north across the city, swerving now and then to bypass burning vehicles and bodies that lay in their path. A few blocks on from the centre, the roads were mostly unpaved and the buildings looked more like a shanty town. Jeff turned a sharp corner onto a long, straight avenue crowded on both sides with dismal tin-roofed shacks and graffiti-covered concrete huts that looked like bunkers. He suddenly hit the brakes, bringing them to a sliding halt.
‘Uh-oh. Company.’
Ben had spotted them at the same instant – a line of trucks and Jeeps speeding towards them, a hundred yards away and approaching fast. They were bristling with so much weaponry that from a distance they looked like giant spiked porcupines.
‘Keep going,’ he warned Jeff. ‘Sudden moves will only draw their attention.’
Jeff wet his lips and eased the Jeep onwards towards the oncoming vehicles. The distance was closing fast. Either the soldiers would open fire on them, or they’d recognise them as the two white men drafted into Khosa’s army. Neither was a desirable option. Ben was shifting towards the centre machine gun, ready to act first if trouble kicked off. If it came to a fight, their chances didn’t look so great either.
They were just sixty yards away when the approaching vehicles suddenly swerved off at a right angle across a junction. Swaying on their suspension, big wheels biting down hard on the loose road surface, the soldiers packed aboard all clinging on tight. Wherever they were going in such an urgent hurry, the solitary Suzuki was obviously not a priority.
Ben’s instinct told him this had to do with the way Khosa had rushed away from the governor’s mansion. Nobody would abandon their prize like that, after having gone to such trouble winning it. Something had happened – and whatever it was, it made Ben very uncomfortable.
‘Looks like Khosa’s pulling a whole bunch of them out,’ Jeff said as the last vehicle roared out of sight across the junction. ‘Got to be sixty, seventy trucks down there. Maybe a thousand troops.’
‘Heading west,’ Ben said. ‘Same direction we are.’
‘You think—?’
‘They’re returning to base? Possible.’
‘But why?’
‘I don’t know,’ Ben said. ‘But if they are, we need to get there before they do. Whatever you’ve got, Jeff, it had better be good.’
Two blocks further north, the cheap housing ended abruptly at the edge of a large compound, several acres of open tarmac surrounded by a high mesh fence topped with razor wire and plastered with stern warning signs.
‘This is it,’ Jeff said, turning in through a metal gate that had been buckled off its hinges. Now Ben knew what had caused the damage to the front of the Jeep.
As they sped into the compound, Ben realised it was an airfield. Jeff aimed the Jeep towards a cluster of buildings, the largest of which was a metal hangar with some of its green paint flaked away where the lock on the sliding double doors had been shot away.
Jeff screeched to a halt outside, killed the engine, and honked the horn three times, like a signal. ‘They’re freaked out enough to start shooting at us,’ he said to Ben. ‘Gunned down by an eight-year-old, after all we’ve been through. That would be a right pisser, wouldn’t it?’
Ben looked at him. ‘They?’
‘Wasn’t going to leave them all behind, was I?’
As the two of them jogged from the Jeep towards the hangar, the small khaki-clad figure of Mani stepped shyly out of a narrow gap in the sliding doors. He was dwarfed by the submachine gun in his little hands. The boy looked solemnly at Ben and Jeff and then glanced back inside the dark interior with a jerk of his chin as if to say, ‘It’s okay, you can come out.’ Five more of Khosa’s child soldiers emerged into the sunlight, blinking up at Ben and Jeff with big anxious eyes. A couple of them were Mani’s age, the rest a year or two older.
‘These were all I could find,’ Jeff said, shaking his head. ‘I can only hope the rest of the poor little sods managed to lie low somewhere out of harm’s way. Here, mate, help me with these doors, will you?’
Behind the doors was Jeff’s discovery, a small red and white Cessna Skyhawk single-engined light aircraft. Its silver nose cone gleamed in the sunshine that streamed into the hangar. The official seal of the governor of Luhaka was painted on its side.
‘All fuelled up and ready to rock,’ Jeff said with a smile. ‘The owner obviously didn’t manage to get to her in time, or he’d have legged it out of here like a rabbi from a pig roast. Think you can manage not to crash her?’
Ben swung open the flimsy cockpit door and peered inside. He’d flown plenty of small planes in his time, and some bigger ones too. He’d only crashed a couple of th
em. Once on purpose; and the other hadn’t really been his fault. Although his sister Ruth hadn’t bought that excuse at the time.
‘I count eight of us,’ he said. ‘This plane’s only a four-seater.’
‘Oh, I’m so sorry I wasn’t able to locate a 747 to accommodate us all in comfort,’ Jeff said acerbically. ‘They’re kids. They’ll cram in. So what do you reckon?’
‘I can fly it,’ Ben said. ‘But our destination’s a little hazy. Khosa told me Luhaka was about a hundred kilometres north-east of his base. That’s not exactly pinpoint navigation.’
‘Always looking on the gloomy side,’ Jeff complained. ‘Then aren’t you lucky that someone happens to know the exact GPS coordinates to get there?’ He tapped a finger to his brow. ‘Memorised them off of the sat nav in Khosa’s Range Rover last night. All we have to do is punch in the numbers and Bob’s your uncle. Now, is that genius, or what? Don’t all rush in to thank me at once.’
Mani looked up at Ben, reached up and plucked timidly at his sleeve. He asked in Swahili, ‘Are we going home?’
Ben touched the boy’s bristly little shaven head. ‘You’re going to be safe,’ he replied. And he could only hope he was telling the truth.
Chapter 47
Pushing hard south-westwards at two thousand feet with the outskirts of Luhaka City a dozen miles behind them and the early afternoon sunlight spangling like a billion stars off the surface of the Congo River to starboard, they saw the dust plume rising up from the twisty dirt road long before they caught sight of the winding train of the military convoy working its way like a procession of little green toys below.
Jeff leaned close to the co-pilot window as they passed over. ‘There they go. What do you suppose he’s in such a rush to get back for? Forgot to let the cat out?’
Ben eased the yoke back a fraction, lifting them a little higher out of rocket range. There were a lot of trigger-happy idiots down there, and Khosa had an unsettling way of knowing things. He nudged the throttle lever and the airspeed indicator needle edged closer to the red line. They soon left the convoy behind. But it would catch up with them quickly enough later.