Bonfire (28 page)

‘Ah, captain, a progress report if you please,’ the Chief said to his answered call. Captain Harding breathed in deeply at the relaxed nature of his old friend. The subject of their business was hardly a matter for levity, he thought. Perhaps, the intelligence service was more accustomed to hard-nosed decisions and black operations than was the Royal Navy.

‘I’ve just watched the aircraft clear the deck,’ Harding said.

‘What’s the ETA?’ the Chief asked in a more staid voice.

‘Hold on.’ Harding lowered the phone and then used the internal communication system. ‘Mr. Castle, what is the craft’s target ETA?’

‘Target ETA, captain, is just under sixteen minutes.’

‘Thank you, Mr. Castle.’ The Chief lifted the phone. ‘ETA is sixteen minutes,’ he said.

‘All right, can I ask that you call me once the aircraft is in position?’

‘Do you have any doubts?’

‘In such an operation as this until we push the button there is always room for doubt,’ the Chief said.

‘Yes. When the aircraft arrives in position I can order a holding pattern and then I will call you,’ Harding said. ‘Are we still looking at both buildings?’

‘Yes, we are. Will the action be simultaneous?’

‘Yes, within a second of each other.’

The afternoon light through the tall windows had changed. The Chief engaged the view, which had lessened as if a covering veil had unfurled from the low, bruised sky and was laying a mask across London. The heavy wet flakes vanished into the pewter sheeted Thames like dying soldiers walking onto the guns and the heaviness showed in the lamplight and dusted atop the walls blue-white like icing sugar.

‘I don’t suppose it’s snowing where you are,’ the Chief said.

‘I’m wearing a short sleeve shirt,’ Harding replied.

‘I’ll await your call,’ the Chief said.

Silence can sometimes be deafening, and it was like that for me during the moments that followed Mick’s death. The quietness roared and my ears had turned to cloth. Nobody spoke. Shaking off the feeling that threatened weakness I forced myself to release Mick’s lifeless body and stood up. It was important I met their eyes. Cakes’ stare was impervious. Although he now had control of his anger, I knew his eyes were dark with hidden rage. Decisiveness was the most important thing. Muntasser waited expectantly while Aksil watched me without offering any indication of what he was thinking. I lifted my head, straightened my shoulders and said, ‘Muntasser, change your clothes. You and I still need to get dressed in Al Bousefi’s black uniform. Hurry up.’

‘You still want to go on?’ Muntasser said.

‘Yes. We’re going to finish what we started,’ I said.

‘Despite what Abu told us, you still want to save the girl?’

‘Who’s Abu?’ Cakes asked.

‘Abu was the guard we questioned,’ Muntasser said.

‘What was it he told you?’ Cakes asked.

‘That today is Al Bousefi wedding day,’ I said answering before Muntasser.

‘Wedding day,’ Cakes repeated.

‘Yes,’ I said.

‘You do know what that means?’ Muntasser said.

‘What does it mean?’ Cakes said.

‘It means that the girl, Magda, is not in danger, not in danger of her life, anyway,’ Muntasser said. Cakes stared at him. ‘The reason Al Bousefi took her was not to kill her, but to make her his wife.’

‘It’s against her will,’ I said.

‘Yes, and which of us leads the life we choose? You, perhaps, believe in
free will
, Mr. Hayes. How much
free will
do you have when others limit your choice to either life or death?’

‘It’s still a choice,’ I said.

‘Yes, and who of us would choose death?’ Muntasser said. ‘
Free will
presupposes unrestricted choice. Such a thing does not exist. No man is an island.’

‘John Donne,’ I said.

‘Is it?’ Muntasser said. ‘I only know the words. And I know they apply when deciding whether to die trying to save a woman from a marriage she may not choose for herself.’

‘What about Al Bousefi?’ I said. ‘You still want him dead.’

‘Yes, but it need not be today.’ The fact that Muntasser was wise and philosophical did not surprise me. The fact that he wanted to stop and go home did.

‘Today might be your only chance,’ I said. ‘If we don’t kill him today then maybe he’ll grow stronger and take hold of Libya completely. You’ll never get near him. Do you want the fanatical Islamic extremists in charge? Do you want sharia law and the society it produces? If we don’t kill the serpent today by cutting off its head then it might be fifty years before someone else gets another chance.’ Aksil stepped forward. Muntasser turned to him and waited for the Berber to speak.

‘I want Al Bousefi dead,’ Aksil said. ‘Hayes is right. We must kill him now while we have the chance.’

‘And if we fail?’ Muntasser asked.

‘We shall not fail,’ Aksil said. ‘I will avenge my cousin on this day and stop the extremists from ruling my country.’

‘Cakes, what do you think?’ I said.

‘I don’t know why we’re wasting time talking. Let’s go and kill the bastard.’

‘Muntasser, are you with us?’ Muntasser placed the unlit cigar between his lips and nodded thoughtfully. He removed the cigar and smiled.

‘Let
free will
commence,’ he said.

While Cakes and Aksil carried Mick’s dead body and put it into the back of the Range Rover, Muntasser and I pulled on the black clothes from the backs of dead men.

Muntasser had to leave some buttons undone. We covered our heads. For the time being, I left my face exposed.

‘Do you really think you can escape that building alive?’ Muntasser asked.

‘If I can get in I can get out,’ I said.

‘While pulling the girl behind you?’

‘I’m expecting her to lead the way,’ I said.

‘Ha,’ Muntasser snorted. ‘This coat is too small.’ He cursed in Arabic.

‘You may not think so, but these clothes will make a big difference,’ I said. ‘People see what they want to see.’

‘Not if you are shooting them.’ Cakes and Aksil walked over.

‘Drive the technical over to the Landcruiser,’ I said to Cakes. ‘Aksil, drive the Range Rover.’ Muntasser and I walked back to where the Landcruiser blocked the track. The police chief fidgeted while he adjusted to his new clothes.

‘They look fine,’ I said. Muntasser muttered something in Arabic.

‘What shall I do with the bodies?’ Cakes said.

‘Put them in the Landcruiser with the others and then move it behind the rocks out of sight,’ I said.

We each checked our weapons and ammunition and went through our preparation. Muntasser pulled the adjustment straps on his vest like a parachutist before he leaps from the plane.

Muntasser and Aksil got into the Range Rover with Muntasser driving. Using the screen on my phone, I showed them both again the location they had to reach and the route they needed to take.

‘I know where to go,’ Aksil said. ‘I have it here in the GPS.’ He tapped the dashboard screen. ‘Do not worry.’ Cakes boarded the Hilux in the driver’s seat.

‘All right, let’s do it exactly as we planned,’ I said. ‘Communication is crucial so, don’t forget to speak up.’ I climbed into the Hilux technical, sat beside Cakes and we drove off.

Leaving the track almost immediately the Range Rover went one way and we went the other. Driving anticlockwise around the buildings Cakes and I followed the low ground where the scrub grew in clumps and if anyone spotted the Hilux, they would think it was patrolling as normal. The only thing strange was the empty gunner’s seat. Mick was supposed to be sitting there. The Range Rover was more of a concern, but the journey was short and my growing confidence in Aksil lessened my unease. Determined to maintain constant communication I made early contact through the CDL.

‘Aksil, what’s your position?’ The Berber responded immediately.

‘We are going up the slope on the south-west side.’

‘Have you seen any trouble?’

‘No, no trouble. Soon, we will be at the top. I will tell you what we see.’

Cakes and I reached our holding position on the northeast side. The hilly ground and rocky crags provided easy cover. Keeping low, we exited the Hilux and lying flat both used our binoculars to scout the outer wall and roofline. An auburn sun fell in the western sky glowing red through a haze-filled horizon like a festive light bulb on a misty eve.

‘I only see one,’ Cakes said quietly. The land behind the main building resembled waves out at sea on a windy day. Atop the block wall was a parapet and beyond that a flat roof, which was mostly outside our angle of vision and meant only the head, shoulders and rifle barrel of a single guard were observable.

‘We are in position,’ said Muntasser’s voice through the CDL.

‘Do you have clear sight of the whole roof?’ I asked.

‘Yes, the sun is behind us and the height and angle are good.’

‘What do you see?’

‘I see three armed men,’ Muntasser said. ‘Two of them are standing together on the south-west. The other is standing on the northeast.’ Earlier we had seen only two guards on the roof. Three guards made Aksil’s job much harder, and failure would almost certainly end the mission. The guard standing alone was the one Cakes and I could see. The range was too great for me to attempt the shot with any certainty.

‘Aksil, if I take the single man on the northeast side can you take the other two?’ I said.

‘The two men are standing close enough together,’ Aksil said. ‘Yes, I can take them both.’

‘How are you going to take that guard?’ Cakes said.

‘You’re going to drive us up to the wall,’ I said, ‘and when he sticks his head out I’m going to shoot him.’

‘Aksil, we must coordinate our shots. Do you understand? We must shoot at the same time.’

‘Yes, I understand.’

Holding the Minimi flat against my thighs, I caressed the fitted suppressor with all the feeling a young woman might use to touch her husband and rehearsed the action in my head. It was a gamble.

‘Do you see the mound?’ I asked. ‘The ground looks tight against the wall and right below the guard.’

‘Yes, I see it,’ Cakes said holding the binoculars to his eyes.

‘He should recognise the Hilux so, we can drive up to the wall without causing alarm,’ I said. ‘Pull up side-on and tight, with enough space and angle to give me a shot.’

‘Yes, all right, let’s do it,’ Cakes agreed. We got back into the Hilux technical.

‘Muntasser, has anything changed?’ I asked.

‘No, the three men are the same.’

‘Aksil, are you ready?’

‘Wait,’ he said. We waited. ‘Yes, I am ready.’

‘All right, we’re going to drive over now. I’ll keep telling you what’s happening. When I say the words
shoot now
I want you to fire, okay?’

‘Yes, when you say
shoot now
I fire and kill both men.’

‘Yes, that’s it,’ I said. ‘Let’s go.’ Cakes drove us out into the open, turned on the rough ground and then we headed towards the wall. For the first few seconds, we went unnoticed. Then as the clatter from the diesel engine reached his ears, the guard turned his head and saw us. He watched without concern or surprise.

‘The guard has seen us coming,’ I said. ‘Aksil, are you still okay with the other two?’

‘Yes—they have not moved.’

‘Good. We’re just seconds away.’

Cakes turned the wheel and began the sweep across the rolling earth to bring us alongside the wall. Positioning the black cloth, I covered the lower half of my face. Looking up I saw the guard standing on the parapet watching. ‘This is it,’ I said. ‘Aksil, wait for my words.’ Braking on the mound below where the guard was standing Cakes stopped the Hilux the perfect distance away from the wall. With the Minimi gripped tightly, I positioned my body and then my muscles tensed as I pushed the light machine gun through the open window followed by my head and shoulders. Turning upwards in one continuous movement, I firmed the stock, took aim and said, ‘Shoot now.’ The man’s face, staring down, presented the exact target for which I had hoped. Two bullets gave him two new eyes and then he dropped. It was a certain kill. ‘Muntasser, what’s happened?’

‘The three guards are down.’

‘Are they dead?’

‘Yes, Hayes,’ Aksil said. ‘They are dead.’

The metal wing of the Hilux ground and scraped against the stone as Cakes pulled the technical tight against the wall. He switched off the engine, pocketed the key and then jumped from the driver’s seat. With my own door blocked, I scrambled across from the passenger seat and followed him out. We climbed onto the bed, hurried past the rocket launcher and jumped up onto the roof of the cab. He gave me a leg-up. My outstretched hands gained purchase on the parapet ledge and then my forearms, and then I swung up a leg and I was over. After checking the rooftop for any danger and seeing both bodies facedown and unmoving on the opposite side, and the body beside me running blood like a tipped upside-down bottle of claret, I leant over the ledge, grasped Cakes’ raised hands and pulled him up.