Battleground (22 page)

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Authors: Chris Ryan

BOOK: Battleground
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But Ricki didn’t touch his M16. Instead, from a pouch in his ops waistcoat, he drew out a handful of crumpled notes. He peeled off three of them and waved them under the policeman’s nose. Instantly the man’s expression changed from one of suspicion to one of greed. He tried to grab the notes, but Ricki pulled his hand away. ‘Information first,’ he said. ‘Money second.’
The policeman sniffed and his eyes flicked left and right, checking to see who was watching him. Ben looked over his shoulder. There were people in the street, but for the moment nobody seemed to be scoping them out, and the motorbike that had been trailing them was out of sight.
‘I know the man,’ the policeman said quietly. ‘He arrived this evening. He had the girl with him.’
Ben felt a surge of excitement.
He had the girl with him
.
‘Where are they now?’
The policeman gave another lazy shrug and eyed Ricki meaningfully. The SAS handed over a couple of notes. ‘The house where they are staying, it is not far from here.’
‘Show us.’
The man shook his head and a smile came across his face. He lifted one finger and shook it.
‘Show us where it is, you’ll get more money.’
But the policeman continued to shake his finger. ‘It is too dangerous for me,’ he said. ‘But I will tell you where to go.’
The SAS team looked at each other. Something seemed to pass between them, some kind of unspoken agreement. Ricki turned back to the policeman.
‘All right,’ he said. ‘Start talking. We’re all ears.’
Aarya was paralysed with terror.
She didn’t know what was worse: the waiting, or the prospect of what was to come. She found herself shivering as she curled up into an exhausted little ball in the corner of that dark room; when the door opened, she trembled even more.
Amir stood in the doorway. ‘Get up,’ he said.
Aarya had no option. She pushed herself to her feet and walked timidly towards him. Amir stepped away from the door frame and allowed her to walk into the adjoining room. The others were still there, eyeing her darkly and without speaking. Propped up against the wall was the suitcase bomb.
She watched as Amir slowly walked round the room, embracing each of the five men in turn. She didn’t dare speak. Amir was just walking towards the bomb when there was a noise. A ringing sound.
A phone.
One of the men pulled a chunky mobile from inside his robes and put it to his ear. He listened carefully, without speaking, then grunted once and hung up. He looked at Amir. ‘You must leave,’ he said. ‘Now.’
Amir’s brow furrowed. ‘Why?’
‘That was a tip-off. Local police. There are foreigners in town. They have been asking about you. They know where you are.’
Amir’s lip curled. ‘
How
do they know?’ he demanded. ‘Who told them?’
The man shrugged. ‘Probably the policeman himself. You know what these dogs are like. They take with one hand and give with the other.’
But Aarya’s captor didn’t seem to be listening. ‘Get out onto the streets,’ he said. ‘You must defend the house, with your lives if necessary.’ If this instruction worried the five men, they didn’t show it.
The man who had taken the call started giving orders. ‘You get back up on the balcony,’ he told one of his colleagues. ‘You,’ he told another, ‘go outside. If you see anybody suspicious approach, shoot them. The rest of us will take positions inside the house, ready for them if they should be so foolish as to enter.’ He turned to Amir. ‘You will take the secret exit? You will carry on alone?’
Amir nodded. ‘To the death. Get to your positions,’ he said. ‘Now.’
The men moved with a sudden sense of purpose; moments later, Aarya was alone with Amir. He strapped the suitcase bomb to his back, grabbed his rifle and pointed it in her direction. ‘Out,’ he said shortly.
Still trembling, Aarya walked out of the room with Amir following right behind. At the end of the corridor in which they found themselves, she saw the last of the five men disappearing and started to follow them; but then Amir tapped her shoulder with the gun. ‘Not that way,’ he said. ‘Left. Through the door.’
There was indeed a door on the left-hand side. Aarya opened it. She was met by a staircase that led downwards. The gloom was so deep that she couldn’t see to the bottom of the steps.
‘Down,’ Amir instructed, and to emphasize his point he poked her in the back with his gun.
Aarya stumbled forward. Amir followed, closing the door behind him so that they were in total blackness. For some reason, she didn’t know why, she counted the steps. Fifteen of them, and then they were at the bottom, where the smell was musty and foul. She heard Amir moving around in that pitch-black basement and somewhere at the back of her mind she considered running back up those steps and trying to flee; but she knew it would be hopeless. And so she waited.
A clicking sound. Amir had found a door and opened it. It led into another basement room which had a small candle burning on a wooden table and yet another door beyond it. A short instruction from Amir, and Aarya walked through this door and into a further room. Amir brought the candle with him, then opened a final door which led to the foot of a flight of steps. They climbed up them, and Aarya found herself in an entirely different house. Deserted, or so it seemed.
They crept through the house, guided only by the light from Amir’s candle, until they reached the front door. Here they stopped. Amir put the candle on the floor, shuffled the suitcase bomb on his back to a more comfortable position, then pressed his ear to the door.
For a moment, silence. And then, from nowhere, voices. Shouting.
Amir’s face grew steely. Aarya held her breath.
And it was then that the air started to ring with the sound of gunshots . . .
Chapter Twenty
 
The instructions that the Afghan policeman had given led them to the top of a wide side street. They peered out from round the corner, not wanting to be seen. There were houses on each side, but they were very poor places, some of them looking as if they were on the point of collapse. About fifty metres away there was a single building that was two storeys high, with a balcony on the top floor.
‘That’s it,’ Ricki said. ‘That’s the building he said.’
The rest of the unit grunted their agreement. Matt pulled a small cylindrical device from his ops waistcoat and put it to his eye. ‘One man on the balcony,’ he reported. ‘Armed. Another guy covering the front entrance, about ten metres from the door. Also armed.’
‘Anything else?’ Ricki demanded.
Matt replaced the scope. ‘Negative,’ he said. ‘Just the two of them, but there’ll be more inside. I don’t suppose they’ll be offering us a nice cup of tea when we come knocking.’
Ricki turned to Ben. ‘Listen carefully,’ he said. ‘You need to do exactly what I say.’ Ben nodded. His stomach was twisted with nerves. ‘We need to gain entrance into that house. There’s going to be shooting and you need to keep out of the way of the bullets. But you also need to be close to us.’
‘Good idea,’ Ben murmured.
‘You see those two trucks?’
Ben looked down the street. The vehicles were parked on the opposite side to the house, about thirty metres from where they were now standing. ‘Yeah,’ he said, ‘I see them.’
‘You need to use those for cover. You’re going to go first, so you can be protected when the fire-fighting starts. Whatever you do, whatever you hear, don’t come out from behind the protection of those vehicles unless one of us tells you to.’
‘What if someone else finds me? What if they get out of the house and—’
‘Nobody’s leaving that house,’ Ricki interrupted him, quietly but firmly. He turned to the rest of the unit. ‘Toby, Matt, find a back way to the other end of the street. When you’re in position, we’ll cover Ben as he gets to the trucks. Then we’ll go in.’
The men didn’t need telling twice. Toby and Matt disappeared immediately, leaving Ben alone with Ricki and Jack, now both silent and concentrating. Ben looked around. Nobody else about – this was a quiet part of town. He didn’t know if that made him feel better or worse. He thought about Aarya. What kind of state would she be in, if she was still in Amir’s clutches? And then he thought about his mum, and his stomach knotted even tighter.
‘Ricki?’ he breathed.
‘Yeah?’
‘My mum. They’ll get her out, won’t they?’
Ricki gave him a serious look. ‘I know this isn’t easy, Ben, but you need to keep your mind on the job in hand. Amir’s the only thing that matters right now. We’ll deal with him first, then we’ll deal with your mum.’
Ben nodded mutely. It was easier said than done.
Ricki looked at his watch, then peered round the corner of the street. ‘They’re in position,’ he said. ‘Ben, go.’ He pulled out his M16 from under his robes and took up position at the street corner. ‘Walk slowly and keep your head down. If you run, you’ll attract attention to yourself; if they see your face, they’ll realize you’re not a local.’
‘Right,’ Ben said, stopping himself from adding: ‘Thanks a lot.’ He took a deep breath, nodded at the two SAS men, turned the corner, and walked.
He knew Ricki was covering him; he knew that the slightest sign of trouble would bring a burst of fire from the SAS man’s weapon. That didn’t make things any easier. The trucks were only thirty metres away, but each step felt like it took an hour. He looked at the ground as he went, scratching his head to obscure his face further. With every second that passed, he expected to hear the thunder of gunfire; with every step he took, the desire to break into a run increased.
Keep walking
, he told himself.
Don’t panic. They’ve got you covered
.
Fifteen metres to go. To his left, a motorbike parked in the street.
Ten metres. All the houses he passed were closed up. No light came from them. At the periphery of his vision he could see the man standing on the balcony up ahead.
Five metres.
When he reached the truck, he was sweating and breathing heavily. He crouched down and looked behind. Ricki was already following. There was no sign of his weapon, but Ben saw that his hand was delving into his dishdash, and he knew what that meant.
Everything seemed to happen so quickly. Ricki reached the trucks; by that time Jack was already following and Ben didn’t doubt that at the other end of the street Toby and Matt were also advancing. Ricki passed the trucks, completely ignoring Ben. He pulled his M16 from underneath his dishdash.
A shout. It wasn’t one of the SAS guys. They’d been clocked. Ben pressed himself against the body of the truck for protection. Ricki bent down on one knee. And then he fired. The suppressed gunshot made barely any noise, but it sounded all the more deadly for that.
Two shots. And then a thumping sound. Ben imagined the man on the balcony falling to the floor. Ricki and Jack started to run towards the house.
It was strangely silent. Ben knew he shouldn’t, but he was unable to resist peering round the corner of the truck. Sure enough, two dead bodies lay on the ground. Toby and Matt stood on either side of the door to the house; Jack had taken up position on the other side of the road, covering the entrance with his M16; Ricki was in front of the door. The unit leader pulled something from his ops waistcoat, then aimed his weapon at the door.
One shot.
Two shots.
Ricki kicked the door and it fell open. He hurled the object he’d taken from his waistcoat inside.
Two seconds, then a blast of light and a huge bang. Smoke billowed from the house and the four men quickly slipped inside.
Ben pressed his back against the truck once more, breathing heavily. The SAS guys knew what they were doing, but he felt vulnerable stuck out in the street all alone. Ricki’s instruction echoed in his head.
Whatever you do, whatever you hear, don’t come out from behind the protection of those vehicles unless one of us tells you to
.
Muffled shouts from inside the house. Ben pictured the scene: smoke, guns blazing, the unit grim-faced and professional. And then . . .
‘
Help!
’
A sudden scream. Close. Ben recognized it, of course. He’d know it anywhere.
‘Aarya!’ he whispered.
More shouts from inside the house.
Whatever you do, whatever you hear, don’t come out from behind the protection of those vehicles unless one of us tells you to.
Ben’s lip curled. He closed his eyes and took a deep breath, knowing it was now impossible to obey Ricki’s instruction. He stood up.
Aarya and Amir had emerged from a house three doors down. Amir had the suitcase bomb on his back; in one hand he held the rifle, in the other he had Aarya’s hair curled tightly in his fist. He was pushing her in the direction of the lone motorbike Ben had passed moments earlier. And for now, he hadn’t seen Ben.

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