Circle of Fire (20 page)

‘Shove Khaled in there too. He'll die, like the traitor he is.'

Maya turned round to see Khaled being led in. As the door was re-locked he looked despairingly at her. ‘They found out,' he said.

‘I thought you'd betrayed me.'

He dropped his eyes, walked over to the far wall and knelt down. There was somebody lying on the bed underneath thick grey blankets. Khaled reached out and pulled the blanket aside.

A cry escaped from Maya. Pam's blonde hair shimmered against the pillow, her eyes were closed, her face pale as death.

‘Mum!' Maya shouted, throwing herself down beside the still figure. But, though she wrapped her arms around her and kissed her, Pam didn't stir. ‘Wake up!' Maya shrilled, shaking her. There was no response.

‘What have they done to her?' she yelled at Khaled.

‘She's drugged. She'll come out of it. Don't worry. She'll be all right.'

As he spoke, Pam's eyelids flickered and for a brief moment Maya saw the soft grey of her eyes, but then they shut tight again. Maya stroked her face and kissed her. Pam's eyes opened again but didn't focus; she gazed at Maya with a glassy stare.

‘What have they given her?'

‘Just something to keep her quiet. It'll wear off.
She tried to escape.'

Maya looked at her mum's bloodless face. ‘She needs help,' she said.

Getting up, she rushed at the door with a flying kick, then banged on it with her fists and shouted, ‘Help! Help! My mum needs help.'

Khaled grabbed her, pinning her arms to her sides. ‘Don't,' he warned. ‘Don't make trouble or he'll kill us all. He's got nothing to lose.'

From somewhere above them came a loud bang.

‘What the hell was that?' Maya asked. ‘Are they raiding the place? I wanted a few MI5 agents, not the whole bloody army.'

‘I sent Simon your message,' Khaled said. ‘This isn't his doing. Maybe it's been taken out of his hands.'

She stared at him. ‘One helicopter that's all I wanted.'

Khaled loosened his grip on her arm, his handsome face set into grim lines. ‘He'll send it, he won't let you down.'

‘Whatever happens, we have to save Omar,' Maya said. ‘He's the only one who can give orders to stop the bombing.'

She went over to her mum and stroked her hair;
she was sleeping soundly. Khaled came and stood beside her.

Another loud bang came from outside. They looked at one another, their eyes softening. ‘I'm frightened,' Maya whispered.

Khaled put a hand on her shoulder. ‘I have prayed. We won't fail.'

‘I have to go,' she said. ‘I have to get to Omar.'

Khaled stiffened. ‘No, it's too dangerous.'

Maya almost smiled. ‘It's all been dangerous.' Going over to Pam, she bent down and hugged her.

‘Love you, Mum.'

Pam's eyes flickered.

‘Don't worry,' Maya told her. ‘I'll get you out of here.'

Pushing a pillow under her head to make her more comfortable, Maya turned to Khaled. ‘Right,' she said. ‘Did you unlock the vent?'

He nodded.

‘How many men does Omar have?'

‘About fifteen.'

‘Help me up to the window.'

‘No,' he protested. ‘Let me go instead.'

Maya shook her head. ‘They'll shoot you.' She pushed him out of the way and went over to
the window. ‘Look after Pam.'

Khaled stood on a chair and tried to open the small oblong window, but it wouldn't budge. Maya grabbed a piece of old piping, climbed on the chair and smashed at the window. It was safety glass and hardly cracked.

‘Stand back,' Khaled said. He snatched the pipe and slammed it into the pane. After a few attempts the glass smashed into fine cobwebs.

‘OK. Let me stand on your shoulders,' Maya ordered.

From her precarious position she took the piping and smashed out jagged shards from the frame. Then she levered herself up and put her head through the window. Immediately a burst of fire zipped across the yard, ricocheting off the stone walls. Khaled dragged her back inside and they collapsed onto the floor.

‘You can't do it, they've spotted you.'

‘No, it was just coincidence. They were firing above me.'

She caught up a sheet, tore off a strip and tied it to the piping.

‘Insurance,' she said. ‘Heave me up.'

Climbing on Khaled's shoulders again she put
her head through the window. This time there was no response. ‘Give me the pipe.'

It was a tight squeeze. Her jacket tore and a piece of glass pierced her arm, but with Khaled's help she managed to wriggle through the small window which gave onto the yard outside at ground level.

Before her the yard glowed white in a blaze of floodlights; over the boundary wall she saw silhouettes of armoured vehicles. It was dangerous to move, and yet she had to risk it. Slowly, slowly, she edged towards the back of the building.

* * *

Omar and his men were cocooned in an upstairs room.

‘We're surrounded,' Nazim said. ‘What do we do?'

The men looked at Omar. He was loading a pistol. ‘We fight,' he said.

‘There are massive weapons out there,' Nazim said.

‘They won't fire on us,' Omar said. ‘They know the girl and her mother are in here. And they want us alive.'

‘They might want you, but they don't care a damn about us,' Nazim snapped back.

Omar's lip curled. ‘You'll die as martyrs,' he said.

Nazim stared at him. ‘I'm not giving up without a fight. We've fixed two machine guns, there are some grenades downstairs. Who's with me?'

Several of the men shouted their support, then they ran down the stairs into the bottom loading bay, leaving Omar to his fate.

Maya slid along the wall under the shadow of the roof until she reached the corner, then crept silently round the back of the mill. It was totally dark there. Her hands clawed at the gritty stone, feeling for the vent. At last she touched flat, smooth metal. Her fingers found the handle, she pulled hard.

At first it wouldn't budge, it was too heavy. She gritted her teeth as she bent and pulled with all her might. Her injured hand was weak. She was beginning to think she'd have to go back for Khaled, when she gave one last mighty tug and the cover moved. She pulled again and managed to get her arm inside to lever it open. Pushing with her shoulder, she eased her body inside.

It was tight. She jammed her arms against the
sides, pulled up her knees and edged forward. Slowly she slid along the tunnel. Blackness surrounded her. It seemed to take forever to reach the end but, just as Khaled had foretold, her hand eventually touched the rung of a steel ladder. Her fingers traced the bottom rung.

Raising her arm over her head, she felt the space above, then her hands found the higher rungs, her feet got a purchase and she pulled herself up. Still holding onto the piece of piping she climbed, hand over hand.

The rungs were slippery, her feet faltered, but she hung on, up and up until her head touched something solid.
Bump!
Not a heavy knockout blow but a gentle bang. She'd reached the manhole cover. If Khaled had loosened it, then she should be able to push herself up and through.

She hoisted herself onto the top step and pushed with her head; the cover wobbled. With a mighty effort she moved it to one side, then placing her elbows on either side of the hole, she levered herself up.

A single beam from the floodlights sliced the room, lighting up old machinery and wooden posts. She was on the first floor, the grinding room of the
mill; she'd memorised the layout of the building as Khaled had described it and, swift as water, she ran to hide in a dark corner near the stairs. Heart pounding, she waited and listened. There was an ominous silence outside and in the building everything was quiet. Then, through the tall mill windows, she saw a blue light arcing from the sky and heard the welcome throb of a helicopter. She was close, so close.

Leaving the dark corner, she darted towards a door at the end of the room. A siren split the night sky. She sensed their presence – masked armed men, black flak jackets, canisters of tear gas, guns at the ready.

Wait, please wait, she prayed.

Carefully opening the heavy fire door, she slid through and, just as Khaled had said, she was in a stone corridor. Go to the left, no – the right, the right passage led to Omar's headquarters. She edged towards the door, ears straining for the slightest sound, legs trembling. Looking through a small, square glass window, she saw Omar. He was sitting at a table with his back to her.

One quick step and she wrenched open the door. Before he had time to turn round, she darted forward and jabbed the pipe into his neck.
‘Don't move, or I'll shoot.'

His hand flew backwards to grasp at what he thought was a gun, but Maya slammed the pipe into his ear. He yelped, reeling with pain, blindly groping for his own gun in front of him on the table. Maya beat him to it, snatching up the pistol, she pointed it at his forehead. His eyes bulged, a low groaning sound came from his open mouth.

‘Shut up! Don't make a sound,' she told him. ‘Now walk.'

Praying that his men wouldn't come charging back upstairs, Maya moved him along the corridor and up to the loft. At one end was a stone platform where sacks of corn had once been hoisted up for milling. Wooden shutters closed it off from the sky.

‘Open the shutters,' she commanded.

Omar's breathing was unsteady, his hands were shaking.

‘No,' he said.

‘If you don't do it, I'll shoot you,' she snapped.

‘What's the difference?' he moaned. ‘You're going to push me off, anyway.'

‘I'm not going to push you off. Listen!'

The sound of a helicopter throbbed above them.

‘I'm going to rescue you.'

She clicked back the safety catch of the gun. ‘Open the doors.'

When he bent to draw back the bolts, a blast of wind rushed in; the helicopter was hovering overhead.

‘Get out there with your hands up,' Maya ordered.

He was whimpering as he stepped out onto the platform. From behind him, Maya waved the piping with the shred of white sheet still attached to one end.

Soft thuds sounded on the roof. Maya started forward, but mistaking her movement for an attack, Omar yelled. ‘No!'

He turned and, with surprising agility, leapt forward and head-butted her.
Smash!
Maya's head snapped back, she crashed into a wooden beam and for a split second saw stars. As she reeled blindly, it was easy for Omar to grab her arms and grapple her to the edge of the platform. Her foot slipped over the edge, she toppled sideways, grabbed at a metal pole and just managed to save herself from plunging to her death.

Desperately she clung to the pole as Omar's face loomed close. His bony hand closed over hers;
she smelt the sourness of his breath as he tried to prise her fingers open. She spat in his face. He reared back in distaste. Swinging in mid-air, her feet scrabbled madly for a foothold. Her arms were on fire – any second she'd plummet to the ground. Hope was almost gone, she couldn't hold on any longer. Omar was coming for her again; her hands started to slip.

Shadows danced past her, black shapes flew through the air. As if by magic, Omar was lifted up and flew backwards. Strong hands grabbed Maya's arms and held her, a harness was slipped under her armpits and clipped round her chest. She was hauled up onto the platform and, like a lifeless dummy, she fell into somebody's arms.

It took her a moment to recover, then she raised her head and saw the sweep of Simon's blond hair.

‘What took you so long?' she asked.

* * *

Omar looked a sad figure. His smart, shiny suit was spattered with dirt, his thick hair had blown into a quiff, his tie dangled from his shoulder. In this state he was handcuffed and dumped on
the floor like a sack of potatoes.

‘How many men are down there?' Simon asked him.

Omar didn't answer. Simon put a gun to his head.

‘A few, maybe five or six,' Omar wheezed.

‘About fifteen,' Maya told Simon. ‘And they're armed. But we've disabled the submachine guns.'

Agents in black flak jackets and balaclavas swung onto the platform and dashed into the loft.

‘My mum and Khaled are down there,' Maya said urgently to Simon. ‘I don't want them to get hurt.'

‘Where are they?'

‘In the basement. I'll show you.'

‘No, it's too dangerous. Stay up here.'

Maya ran to the top to the stairs. ‘You can't stop me,' she said, ‘not now.'

Simon pulled her back. ‘All right. Stay behind me and keep your head down.'

He started to move down the stairs behind his men. All was quiet until they'd nearly reached the floor below, when there was a spatter of automatic gunfire.

‘You told me you'd taken the clips,'
Simon spluttered.

‘I did.'

‘They must have fixed some. We have to respond, we have no choice.'

He gave his men the order to return fire, pushed Maya's head down and, crouching in front of her, provided a human shield. Another burst of fire came from below – one of the men in front groaned and fell.

‘Stay back,' Simon ordered. But Maya moved forward as the men advanced down the stairs, squeezing past the injured man.

Another burst of gunfire came from below. Bullets zinged past, hitting the ceiling. Maya covered her ears, her hands were shaking. Chunks of plaster fell, dust filled her mouth. Coughing and choking, she crawled forwards. They reached the first floor.

‘We'll rush the basement,' Simon said in hushed tones. ‘Wait for the signal.'

‘Please be careful, Mum's down there,' Maya whispered.

Simon edged his way to the top step, then punched the air – his men scrambled downwards. There was an unearthly scream followed by a shattering explosion. Smoke rose.