Ultimate Weapon (48 page)

‘Christ, these blokes don’t really do tactics, do they?’ Jed muttered towards Nick.

‘And I thought our lot were aggressive,’ Nick grunted.

At the side, Rezo was shouting furiously. One of the men had tossed aside his cigarette, and was running down the side of the mountain. That left two more. One looked steady enough, the other was shaking like a leaf. The Iraqis were crouching in the entrance to the cave, using the rock formations for cover, but still crawling stealthily towards them, in a line of at least six men, with the AK-47s blazing out a murderous hail of bullets.

‘Throw in the fucking grenades,’ shouted Jed.

Nobody moved.

Rezo had grabbed one of his men by the shoulders, the more nervous of the two, and was shaking him by
the shoulders. He threw the boy forward, so that he was exposed, standing straight in front of the advancing Iraqis. He stood stock-still for a second, opening up a burst of gunfire that took down two men, before he himself was sliced open, and tumbled down dead on to the ground.

Jed glanced through the rocks. Four Iraqis left, a hundred yards from them, still advancing. He picked up two of the stun grenades, and hurled them in quick succession up into the air. As they crashed into the ground, huge clouds of smoke rose up into the air, swirling around the advancing men. He could hear choking, then more wild bursts of gunfire, the bullets spraying higher and higher into the air.

‘Fucking move out,’ he shouted at Rezo.

Both men started running in tight formation, with Nick and the last of Rezo’s men following close behind. The remaining Iraqis were already retreating back towards the cave: they were taking casualties, and they knew they’d be safer back there. Up ahead, there was nothing but a cloud of smoke. Jed held his gun steady, spraying a steady stream of fire into the smoke. It was impossible to see anything he could lock his gun on to, but he had a fairly good idea where the opposition was: keep on laying down a barrage of fire into that space and you should hit something, he told himself. He heard one scream, then another. One corpse was lying bleeding on the ground, his gun lying abandoned on the ground at his side. Not good enough. There are still two or three of the bastards left.

Enough to kill us all
.

The bullets were still spitting out from their assailants. At his side, he could see Rezo falling to the ground, clutching his chest. Jed surged forward, jamming his finger hard on the trigger of the AK-47, keeping up his rate of fire. Behind him, from the corner of his eye, he could see Nick tumbling to the ground. ‘Christ,’ he muttered. ‘The fuckers are taking us apart.’

‘Take the right,’ he shouted at the only one of Rezo’s men who was still fighting.

He veered off to the left, hoping to complete a pincer movement that would take down the last two or three Iraqis.

‘Take the bloody right,’ he shouted, louder this time.

It was useless. The boy couldn’t hear him. He was charging forward, a roar of anger erupting from his lips, spraying bullets from his gun. The rate of fire was terrifying. One man fell, then a hailstorm of bullets whipped into the boy, shredding him into pieces.

Just me, thought Jed grimly.
Alone.

He steadied himself, still running towards the side of their attackers. A gust of wind was blowing from the side of the mountain, pushing the smoke from the stun grenade high into the air. Slowly it began to clear. Through the fog, Jed could see two men still standing. One was coughing violently, doubled up in pain: his lungs hadn’t been strong enough to hold his breath any longer, and he was already drawing in the noxious fumes from the stun grenade. The other was standing still, his gun gripped tightly in his fists, a malevolent, dangerous
grimace on his face. Jed steadied himself, put the AK-47 into position and let off a volley of fire. The man already coughing on the fumes was hit by one bullet in the side of his stomach. His mouth opened, letting in a lungful of fumes. Another bullet struck him in the chest, splitting him open. He collapsed in a pool of blood on the ground.

The second man turned to face Jed. He was standing upright, his gun still gripped in his fists, looking straight at Jed. There was no more than thirty yards separating the two men, and Jed could see the desperation in his eyes: he’d looked at men who wanted him dead before, but not with the desire and hunger that this guy had to finish him off.

Without thinking, he jabbed the barrel of the AK-47 in the direction of the one Iraqi left standing. He slammed his finger down hard on the trigger. One bullet spat out of the gun, missed its target, then the gun fell silent. The magazine was empty.

A smile was spreading across the man’s lips. He started walking a few paces forward, putting himself in a position where he couldn’t miss.

Christ, thought Jed. This is it.
The bullet with my name on it is looking straight at me.

Only twenty yards separated them now. Jed briefly wondered if he should turn and run. No, he told himself. You still have a knife in your pocket, and that means you still have a chance. Better to take a bullet in the front than the back.

A rattle of gunfire. The man crumpled right in front
of him. A bullet had pierced him clean through the forehead, killing him instantly. Before the man even knew what had hit him, he’d fallen dead on the ground.

Jed looked round. Laura was standing straight behind him, a Beretta 92 compact pistol in her hand. She walked slowly up towards where Jed was standing, a bead of perspiration dripping down her face.

‘A firefight doesn’t look so bad,’ she said softly. ‘Not once you get used to the noise.’

Jed started to smile. ‘You’re not a bad shot,’ he said.

‘Better than you, I reckon,’ Laura replied.

‘Maybe we’ll find out,’ said Jed.

Taking a fresh magazine from his kitbag, he jammed it into his AK-47, then ran across to where Nick had fallen. He was starting to pick himself up off the ground. Jed checked him for signs of wounds, but he looked OK. He’d stumbled, and his wounded leg had collapsed beneath him, taking him out of the fight. ‘Are they dead?’ he said.

Jed surveyed the carnage laid out all around them. There were a dozen Iraqi corpses; and four of Rezo’s men, plus Rezo himself, were all dead. One man had fled down the mountainside. The air was thick with the smell of blood and smoke. ‘They’re all gone,’ he replied.

‘Sarah must be in there somewhere,’ said Nick.

Laura nodded, looking towards the entrance to the tunnel. ‘There might be more guards,’ she said.

‘I’m going in,’ said Nick.

Jed shook his head. ‘I’m going,’ he snapped.

Nick was levering himself up. Blood was still seeping
from the wounded leg, and he was grimacing from the pain. ‘I’m going,’ he said firmly.

‘We need one guy to assess the situation in there,’ said Jed. ‘We all go, we all might get shot, and that’s no bloody use to anyone.’

‘Then I’m going,’ repeated Nick.

He started to shove Jed aside, but Jed pushed back. ‘Your leg is too badly bloody hurt,’ he said.

‘She’s my daughter,’ shouted Nick.

‘Calm it,’ snapped Laura. ‘Jed should go. We’ll wait here.’

Jed started to walk away, but as he did so, Nick tugged on his shirt. He looked round. A fist suddenly landed in his face, crashing into the side of his jaw. ‘Leave it, you old bastard,’ he shouted.

Nick punched again, the blow this time landing on the top of Jed’s neck. His punch was solid, like a piece of metal slapping into your skin. Jed could feel the pain rippling down into his spine and his legs. The anger was boiling inside him. ‘You’ve pushed your luck once too often, grandad,’ he snarled. ‘I can turn one cheek, mate, but two? That’s bloody pushing it.’

Already Nick’s fist was raised again, ready to smash into Jed’s ribs. Jed swerved, avoiding the blow. ‘I’m getting my daughter,’ he snapped. ‘I’m fucking sick of everyone getting in the way.’

Jed kicked out with his leg. His boot caught Nick on the side of his ribs, knocking him off balance. With his right hand clenched into a fist, Jed drove a punch straight into Nick’s stomach. The anger within him was
coiled up into the blow, exploding with brutal force into his opponent. I’ve been wanting to lay a blow on that old sod for years, thought Jed sternly as he drew his fist back again.
Feels good to finally have the chance.

Nick wobbled, then crashed to the floor. The wound on his leg had opened further, and blood was smeared across the bandage and seeping on to the rock. ‘Sarah needs the best man for the job,’ he said. ‘That’s not you, and never bloody has been.’

He started to pull himself up from the ground, a murderous look raging through his eyes. From his shoe, he’d whipped out a flick knife. The blade sprang open, nestling in the palm of his hand. One jab, then another. Jed jumped away, avoiding the knife. Nick was standing on both feet, even though the wounded leg was shaking and bleeding badly. He started to edge forward.

Laura stepped in front of Nick, pointing her Beretta straight at him. ‘I’ve already shot one man today,’ she said calmly. ‘You want to join the list?’

Nick started to prepare another jab of the knife at Jed. Laura thrust the gun another inch forward. ‘I mean it,’ she snapped.

‘Drop the knife, Nick,’ said Jed.

A moment passed. Nick tossed the knife to the ground, the blade smashing into the rough mountain stone. ‘Go,’ he said sourly. ‘And make sure you bring her out OK.’

‘I’ll need a handgun,’ he said, glancing at Laura. She nodded, giving him the Beretta, which Jed tucked it into the palm of his hand. ‘If I’m not back in twenty
minutes, assume I’m dead. Get on to Hereford, and tell them to send some reinforcements.’

He started walking. It was just twenty yards to the entrance to the caves. As he stepped over the pile of Iraqi corpses, he felt certain he could see one of the men move. No, just the wind, he told himself, as he looked into the dead man’s eyes. He kept walking. As he headed into the tunnel, he could feel the rock surrounding him. The air was completely still, but somewhere up ahead, there was a faint scratching noise. As he looked ahead, he could see nothing. Only darkness.

There was a flashlight nestling in Jed’s pocket, but he didn’t want to use it. Switch on a light, and you might as well put a big target round your neck, with the words ‘Shoot me’ written on it, he thought. The darkness might be the only thing keeping me alive.
You just have to get used to it, that’s all.

He kept walking. From the entrance of the caves, he reckoned he’d covered about a hundred yards by now. The rock felt damp to the touch, and cold. There were bits of moss growing along the ground, but as you went further into the interior of the mountain, the rock became completely bare. Somewhere in the distance, he felt certain he could hear water. A stream maybe. He was using his hands to creep along the wall of the tunnel, feeling his way forward. The rock was jagged and twisted and there were already a couple of cuts on the palms of his hands. Where the hell are you, Sarah? Say something.
Let me know where you are.

How many Iraqis might still be inside, Jed had no sure way of knowing. Rezo had said
around
a dozen Special Republican Guard troops had passed through the valley on their way up to the mountains. Twelve of them were
dead, but there could be one or two men left inside.
The only way to find out was to go in and face them.

A hundred yards turned into two hundred, then three. Jed started to have an idea why Salek had come here. The interior of the mountain was a natural hiding place. You couldn’t raid or storm it. It was too dark, and there were too many hidden crevices. If you defended it well enough, you could stay here for ever. With the right kit, and enough guts, one man could hold out against a battalion.

Any light from the entrance had completely faded now. For the first hundred yards, a few flickerings of sunlight had bounced down among the rocks, but as the tunnel twisted around, it had disappeared. Jed was edging forward painfully slowly, keeping his hands on the wall. Twice he stumbled, once as his foot dipped into a pool of stagnant water, the second as he kicked into a ridge of rock that rose up out of nowhere and caught him on the side. Both times, he had to bite his lip to stop himself swearing. Give yourself away and you’re a dead man, he warned himself. Silence is your only friend in here.

As he recovered his balance, he pressed on. Each yard was a struggle, a battle against fear and distance. Never liked the dark, he thought. Too much like death.
You spend enough time staring that in the face in this line of work.

Up ahead, Jed could see something. A light. He squinted through the darkness, and edged forward another dozen yards. The light was clearer now. He could see a guard, standing by himself. He’d propped up a powerful flashlight by his side which was throwing out an arc of light that stretched for fifty yards. As Jed inched
along, careful to keep himself in the shadows, he could see that the tunnel opened up into a wide, broad cave. The stone was a dense, grey granite, streaked with black and purple traces. At points, it was no more than ten feet high, but at others it vaulted up to fifty feet or more. Right at the back, there was a stream running along its edge, a remnant of the underground river that must have cut the tunnels and caves into the mountain. Jed steadied himself, keeping his body pressed tight to the wall where the tunnel opened out into the cave. As he looked around, he couldn’t see any sign of either Salek or Sarah, but he could see that behind the guard, there was another tunnel. And through that, another light was shining.