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Authors: Ken Methven

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BOOK: DARKNET CORPORATION
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Chapter Nine

The pain in his face was matched by the pounding in his head. Bill found
it difficult to breathe through the musty, dusty cloth next to his face. He was
cold. But the fact that he was aware of it meant he was alive.

He tried to move and groaned with the pains of several areas of his body
hurting. As he took stock of his situation and tried to shift his cramped
limbs, he found himself tied around the ankles and the wrists, his arms behind
him. He stretched out his legs and felt the warm skin of someone else.

“That you, Ledge?”
Bill’s voice sounded croaky. It was
several moments before there was a stirring and a groan.

“Where are we?” Ledge sounded equally croaky.

“We’re alive, but we won’t be for long. We’ve got to get out of here,
now!” Bill was recovering.

Bill got Ledge to shuffle around until they were side by side then told him
to lean forward and after several attempts was able to grip the top of the bag
over Ledge’s head in his teeth through both sets of material. After some
wriggling around he finally managed to hold it still while Ledge leaned back
again and freed himself from the bag over his head.

“What can you see?” Bill asked.

“Nothing.
Its pitch dark in here,” replied Ledge.

With the absence of the bag over his head, Ledge found it much easier to
repay the favour, after banging heads together in the dark Ledge held the bag
with his teeth as Bill pulled back and got the bag off his head. At least they
were able to breathe more easily.

“They can only possibly be holding us until somebody important gets here.
Maybe we will get eyes on Abu
Ukasha
sooner than we’d
like!” Ledge appreciated the irony even in this desperate situation.

“Well we’ll find out why he’s so feared, I expect. Let’s see what we’ve
got.” Bill realised that not only were they hog tied, but they were naked. He
shifted his weight and managed with some difficulty in balance to stand up
against the wall he had been leaning against and started shuffling along the
wall by twisting from heel to toe. He could see a crack of light coming from
under a door and just as he noticed it his arm brushed against something. He
leaned against it. It was a light switch. “How modern,” he thought and
manipulated it with his shoulder.

They blinked in the startling brightness of the electric light which was
mounted in the wall at about head height. He saw that they were tied with cable
ties. “Very modern and quick learners,” thought Bill.

Ledge said, “You look a mess,” referring to the gross swelling of Bill’s
left cheekbone sticking out above his beard and the bruises and rivers of
congealed blood in several places on his body.

“You don’t look like Miss Universe, either,” he retorted, reflecting
Ledge’s similar evidence of beating.

The room was tiny, about one and half metres square, which Bill thought
must be a storeroom or cupboard…and it was absolutely empty apart from the two
men.

“Well. No handy sharp surfaces, knives or other tools …,” stated Ledge.

Bill said, “Grab that hood and come over here. Get your feet underneath
you against the wall here.”

Ledge grunted, not appreciating what Bill had in mind but immediately
complied and wriggled his way into position.

Squeezing the hood into the tiny space between his wrists, Bill explained
he was going to get onto Ledge’s back and try to reach the light. Once he had
arranged Ledge with his feet flat on the ground and bent over he swung his
buttocks onto his back, then swung his tied knees up onto Ledge’s back behind
his head and shuffled and shifted his weight until he was able to get his feet
under himself. It took two attempts to get his balance right to complete the
move.

Urging Ledge to raise himself up as best he could with the weight of his
comrade on his back and to steady himself by leaning back against the wall,
Bill was eventually able to raise his arms behind him so that the cable tie was
against the electric bulb.

The heat was intense and Bill consoled himself with the thought that the
hotter it was the more likely his plan would work. The material of the hood
protected at least some parts of his arms from the burns so that he could get
closer for longer.

As his flesh started to sear he pulled the cable tie apart with all his
strength. After what seemed an age, the heat had stretched the plastic enough
for him to pull his hands away and wriggle out of the tie. He put his free
hands on his friends back and jumped off his back as Ledge crumpled to the
floor with the effort.

Picking up the hood as it fell free he unscrewed the bulb and held the
hot metal screw base to the ratchet in the ankle tie which melted quickly. Feeling
for Ledges tied hands he tried the same ruse, but the bulb had started to cool
rapidly and it was not working as fast. Finally with a rasp it came free.

The metal part of the bulb had cooled down and Bill realised the trick
would not work again. He felt for the light bulb holder to replace the bulb but
was holding it much too firmly in trying to screw it back in and the glass
broke. Cursing, he felt around for a shard and began sawing at Ledge’s ankle
ties. The sharp edge did its task quickly and
untrussed
there was a surge of optimism in the two men. Now it was a fair fight.

Bill reached gingerly for the door, feeling for the handle, but it was
locked.

They agreed tactics as to what they would do when someone opened the
door. If there were several armed people it might all end suddenly. Bill
thought that might be best anyway given the stories he had heard of Abu
Ukasha’s
methods of torture.

When the rattle of the key in the door came, they were ready. The first
person through the door reached around for the light switch, a Kalashnikov in
the other hand. Ledge yanked the barrel of the gun with one hand from behind
the figure and it clattered onto the floor, thankfully without discharging.
Slapping his hand up under the jailer’s chin stifling a yelp, he grabbed the
top of the jailer’s turban with his other hand. The chin hand pulled violently
towards him and turban hand pushed down and away in an angle that was
impossible for the man’s head.

There was a sickening crack as his neck broke and he crumpled to the
floor like a sack of potatoes.

Bill had the other man in a choke hold. He wasn’t armed but was
struggling and flailing. Ledge set himself and with an almighty punch directly
to the middle of the man’s chest the flailing stopped with a muffled crunch as
bones broke. The man went limp held up in the choke hold.

Bill and Ledge hurriedly pulled off the outer garments of the two jailers
and pulled them over their nakedness. The loose fitting trousers ended just
below Ledge’s knees and made it obvious that he was not wearing his own
clothes, but naked or clothed would not matter much if they didn’t get out of
there right away.

Not having much time before someone came to investigate the absence of
the two dead jailers they moved quickly into the corridor and had to decide
which way to turn; right or left. They went left and found the passage turned
right again and then there was a door that they could see sunlight coming
under.

Ledge, checking the magazine and cocking the jailer’s Kalashnikov went
cautiously through the door, peering around blinking in the bright sun.
Satisfied there was no immediate threat the two emerged into a compound
courtyard and scuttled into the shadows of the nearest wall and moved around
quickly to reach the gate they could see ten metres away. Going through the
gate there was a yell behind them as their escape was detected.

Bill and Ledge ran into a narrow lane, typical of the medieval villages
they had been in and looked for a means of escape.
As they
ran, barefoot and bareheaded, they came to a junction with a wider laneway.
A local on a small motorbike, more like a moped, came past them. Ledge
unhesitatingly swung the butt of the Kalashnikov at him knocking him off the
bike.

Bill picked up the bike, engine still running and turning it to go the
other way, clicked down on the gears to put it into neutral and climbed on.
Ledge climbed on, back to back with Bill, looking back from where they had
come, holding the Kalashnikov. Bill put the bike into gear and slowly at first
with the weight it was carrying but increasingly fast, took off along the road.
Their speed became much greater than was normal in these narrow lanes and
people leapt out of the way as they flew past.

As they came to a junction with a yet wider street a
pickup truck going at least as fast came after them from the left with several
men in the back, firing in their direction.
People in the street dived for
cover. Ledge put the Kalashnikov to his shoulder, took careful aim and put a
burst straight at the driver.

The pickup took a violent lurch to the left and crashed into the side of
a building in the still relatively narrow street, flinging the armed men in all
directions, some crashing into the walls of the building, others sliding along
the road like rag dolls.

They reached the edge of the town and emerged onto terraced farmland and
open spaces. They had escaped.
But what now?
There
were bound to be more chasers and they could not outrun their pursuers on a
little motorcycle.

Ledge, still sitting looking backwards, yelled for
Bill to stop.
As
he did so, he stepped off and stood in the road forcing a car that came up
behind them to halt. Pointing the rifle at the driver he motioned him out.

“NO!” cried Bill, “get him back in the car,” and all three got into the
car. “
T
shelawem
!”
shouted Bill to the driver as Ledge looked back over his shoulder.
Nothing coming, yet.
Bill pushed the bike into the ditch.
With any luck it would not be immediately spotted.

“Why are we keeping hold of this guy? Hostage?” queried Ledge.

“If we’d dumped him out in the road he would have told them what vehicle
we had car-jacked and they could hunt us down easier,” said Bill. “This way we
might keep ahead of them a little longer.”

They drove on and after a while Bill noted they were on the same stretch
of road they had come down from Sadda and suddenly caught sight of something
coming up fast behind them in the side mirror.

“Company!
Coming up behind us!” he shouted. “Duck down and hope they
don’t stop us!” Bill spoke to the driver and told him not to stop unless they
shoot and to smile at them. The driver, knowing his car-
jacker
could speak Pashto, and probably also Arabic, realised he could not safely
betray his co-travellers. He was equally scared of both pursuers and the
pursued to do just as he was told.

Bill got down onto the floor behind the driver and squashed himself up
against the door. Ledge pushed the passenger seat as far back as it would go.
He slipped off the seat onto the floor, squeezing up into a ball and pulled the
driver’s dark coat over his head, the Kalashnikov pointing out at the driver.

The first of two pickup trucks pulled alongside and someone in its
passenger seat looked in. Quickly satisfied the car did not contain the
escapees he waved the driver on and both vehicles took off up the road at
speed. Ledge peered up over the dash after a few moments and satisfied they
were gone, reported the fact to Bill.

“They’ll be back when they find nothing up ahead. We need to do
something,” said Ledge looking to Bill for leadership.

“Agreed!” said Bill. “Let’s pull off at the next village and hide up.”
Not far along, the next village appeared and Bill positioned the car up a
street that went higher as it moved away from the river so that they could see
the main road while remaining out of sight behind a wall. Sure enough, one of
the two pickups came back down the road after a while.

“Do you think they’ve figured out we were in the car they passed?”

“Probably,” replied Bill. “There won’t be too many cars travelling along
here in the time that we’ve had to escape. We need to get off that road.”

Bill started a conversation with the driver who was trembling, assuming
he would become superfluous at any moment and be shot. Bill explained what he wanted
and the driver offered that there was a minor road on the other side of the
river that eventually joined the road to
Khost
at
Khadand
Khwar
but that it was
across the river.

After Bill persisted the driver admitted they might be able to get across
the river further south but that they could get bogged down or even washed
away. Bill decided it was their best bet and immediately ordered the driver to
drive back down the road they had just come up.

“The two pickups are probably starting from opposite extremes and
searching inch by inch until they meet or find us, so we are probably safer in
the middle here as long as we don’t have to go too far to find a spot to cross
the river,” Bill explained.

“We’re crossing the river?” Ledge queried, eyebrows raised.

BOOK: DARKNET CORPORATION
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