Authors: Chris Ryan
Tags: #Juvenile Fiction, #Action & Adventure, #General, #Mysteries & Detective Stories
Desert Pursuit (5 page)
‘Hex!’ called Alex softly from the top of the dune. ‘Patrol on the way. ETA three to four minutes.’
Li gave a strangled sob and the foot that had snagged the wire wobbled dangerously.
‘Be still!’ snapped Paulo. ‘Forget the soldiers. We are doing this. Only this.’
Li gulped and nodded, holding her leg as still as she could and trying to ignore the excruciating cramps that were twisting through her thigh muscles. Paulo leaned forward and began to move the sand from around the flash tube. His big hands worked with delicacy and confidence and soon he could see the gleam of the wire through the sand. He stopped, leaned forward and gently blew the last of the sand away. As he did so, the sound of a jeep engine carried on the wind. The patrol was nearly upon them.
Up on the top of the dune, Alex, Amber and Khalid ducked low as the jeep came into view on the road.
‘Khalid, run. Hide!’ ordered Amber.
Khalid shook his head.
‘You must get out of here!’ insisted Amber. ‘If the troops find us five, it’s no big deal. We’re just a bunch of stupid tourist kids who lost our way. But if they catch you, you’ll end up in prison!’
‘I stay,’ said Khalid. ‘I am guide. Only I know safe way back.’
‘I have the GPS, remember?’
‘Do this GPS show hiding mines?’
Amber glared at Khalid. He stared back calmly, his dark eyes stubborn and determined in his ruin of a face, and all the while the noise of the jeep engine grew louder.
‘I can see the pin,’ said Paulo.
‘Can you get hold of it?’ asked Hex.
Paulo reached forward to grasp the pin, then hesitated, frightened of knocking it from the hole. His hand hovered uncertainly and Li’s foot twitched again as a particularly bad cramp bit into her leg. The wire jumped, yanking the pin and Paulo lunged. He nipped the pin between his thumb and forefinger just before the last few millimetres slid from the hole.
For one second, two, he was frozen in place, waiting for the explosion. When nothing happened, he slowly slid the pin back through the hole in the flash tube. Once it was in, he picked up the pliers and clipped the wire.
Li collapsed to her knees and covered her face with her hands.
‘Let’s go!’ yelled Paulo.
‘Come on,’ said Hex, putting an arm around Li’s shaking shoulders and dragging her to her feet. ‘No time for that. We have to get out of here.’
Hex half-dragged Li up the slope as the jeep came to a stop on the other side of the berm. They were still in full view and in another few seconds the soldiers would be out of the jeep and climbing the metal steps to the observation platform that was built into the berm.
Amber, Alex and Khalid were already running down the other side of the dune, heading for the quads. Hex and Li reached the top and plunged after them without looking back. Paulo watched them go, making sure Li was out of harm’s way before he looked down once more at the little pin he was still holding in place with his finger. He had known straight away that the pin was unstable. The mine was tilted to one side and, without the sand packed around it, the pin was likely to slip out as soon as he let go of it.
Paulo heard the sound of booted feet clanging on metal and then men’s voices talking and laughing. The soldiers were climbing the steps to the observation platform and he was still in full view on the dune slope. Quickly, Paulo scooped a wall of sand around the pin and patted it into place, but the fine, dry grains of sand had nothing to hold them together and the wall started to crumble away almost immediately. Paulo groaned, then let go of the pin. Without stopping to see what happened he surged to his feet and powered up the slope. He was still a metre away from the dune crest when he heard a sharp, metallic click.
The pin had fallen out, releasing the striker mechanism.
With a yell, Paulo launched himself over the crest of the dune as a fist of air hit him in the back. A split second later, the noise of the explosion blasted his eardrums and a geyser of sand erupted, rising high above the top of the dune. Then he was rolling down the far slope of the dune, falling out of control, head over heels.
The soldiers had just reached the observation platform when the mine exploded. They ducked instinctively. One flung himself down on to the platform, then climbed to his feet again a couple of seconds later, grinning shamefacedly. They looked for the cause of the explosion and spotted the three vultures, climbing into the sky in a panic of flapping wings. Satisfied, the soldiers turned away and headed back to the shelter of their jeep, hooking their cigarettes from their shirt pockets as they went. This was a routine patrol in a quiet area and they did not intend to stand out in the desert sun for long. None of them had spotted the bodies of the two boys lying out on the minefield, half-hidden by razor wire and churned-up earth.
Paulo staggered to his feet at the bottom of the western slope as sand and small stones rained down all around him. His ears were ringing painfully but, to his surprise, he seemed to be all in one piece. Dizzily, he looked over at the quads. The others were mounted and ready to go. They were waving him on and their mouths were moving as they yelled encouragement, but he could not hear a thing. Paulo headed for the nearest quad at a stumbling run and climbed on behind Hex.
‘Let’s get out of here!’ called Alex.
The three quads blasted out from under the camouflage awnings and headed off at high speed with their trailers bouncing crazily. Three minutes later they rounded the shoulder of another dune and disappeared from sight, leaving nothing but a trail of settling dust behind them.
S
IX
IX
In the early dawn light the huge, dusty refugee camp sprawled in the middle of a plain of dark, featureless sand. The only splash of colour came from the black, white, green and red flags that fluttered from the tent masts, and the only sound was the snap of canvas in the fierce, gusting wind. Alpha Force grinned at one another as they headed across the plain towards the camp. It might look bleak but it was a welcome sight. The previous day, once they were sure they had not been followed by the Moroccan soldiers, they had waited for the cool of the night before travelling back to the camp. Now they were tired and hungry and looking forward to a wash and a change of clothes.
As they reached the outskirts of the camp, the packed-earth roads between the tents and mud-brick huts were empty, but the whine of their quad engines brought heads popping from doorways and children tumbling out into the dust. Soon their arrival had turned into a noisy procession and they had to slow the quads to a careful crawl to avoid squashing small children under their wheels.
Khalid climbed down from the back of Alex’s quad and walked along, waving and smiling like a returning hero. The camp was divided into six villages, or darias, and this was his home daria. He was well known and loved here, and nobody noticed his scarred face. The sad fact was that Khalid was not unusual. There were plenty of other Sahawaris with landmine injuries. The smaller children especially loved Khalid. They were clustered around him now, hanging from his arms and clinging to his gandourah. Khalid bore it all with a broad grin on his face.
Minutes later, they arrived in the main square at the centre of the daria. In the middle was the all-important water cistern, which supplied the whole daria; around the edge a row of low, mud-brick buildings housed a primary school, a crèche, a dispensary and a hospital. As Alpha Force turned off their engines and climbed tiredly from the quads, the hospital doors flew open and Philippe Larousse hurried out, closely followed by a tall black man in western clothes who was checking them over for injuries before he was even out of the doorway. This was John Middleton, Amber’s uncle, who acted as a financier, organizer and anchor man for Alpha Force, as he had done for Amber’s parents before they were killed.
‘Hi,’ said Amber, smiling at his anxious face. ‘Don’t worry, Uncle. We’re all back in one piece.’
‘No problems, then?’ asked Jack Middleton, looking from Amber to Paulo, who was standing next to her.
‘What?’ shouted Paulo.
‘I said, did you have any problems?’
‘What?’ shouted Paulo again.
‘Is he OK?’ asked John Middleton, giving Amber a questioning look.
‘Wha-?’ Paulo’s third shout ended abruptly in a grunt as Amber dug her elbow into his ribs.
‘Sand in his ears, probably,’ Amber lied. She knew that Paulo was still suffering from the after-effects of the landmine explosion, but she had no intention of telling her uncle about that particular incident. When they had all first come up with the idea of forming Alpha Force, John Middleton had been very reluctant to agree to it and she did not want to give him any reason to change his mind.
Just then a tall, imposing Sahawari woman walked into the square. Her brightly coloured malaafa robe covered most of her head and body, but her dark eyes, her straight back, even the way she moved, were all full of a quiet authority. She was the head of the daria and everyone, even the chattering toddlers, grew silent as she approached. Beside her walked the parents of the two dead Sahawari boys, their faces marked with sorrow. Trailing sullenly behind were the three surviving boys from the ill-fated mine-collecting trip. They obviously did not want to be there, but lacked the courage to openly defy the head of the daria.
Philippe Larousse gave her a respectful nod, then turned to Alpha Force. ‘Do you have the footage?’ he asked.
Hex retrieved the DV tape cassette from his palmtop pouch and Alex pulled the camcorder case from his quad trailer. Philippe took the tape and the case, then walked back into the mud-brick hospital building, with the head of the daria at his side and the sad little group of Sahawaris following behind.
‘What do we do now?’ asked Amber.
‘We wait,’ said Hex with just a hint of impatience. He could have sent the footage from the minefield almost as soon as he had filmed it – the digital camcorder had fire-wire technology which allowed him to download the images on to his palmtop and then send them to every major news station in the world – but Philippe had insisted that the boys’ parents must be the first to see the footage. Only when the parents gave their permission could it be shown to the rest of the world.
Alpha Force waited silently in the square, watching the closed hospital doors and imagining what the parents of the boys must be going through. Hex busied himself connecting his palmtop to the Net and retrieving his file of the unlisted e-mail addresses of most of the top news programme editors. He smiled as he scanned the list. That had been a worthwhile few hours of hacking.
Hex looked up as the hospital doors creaked open. Philippe, the head of the daria and the three boys came out, their faces etched with the horror of what they had just seen. The parents remained inside. Philippe walked over to Hex and handed him the camcorder.
‘They say yes,’ he said gruffly.
The Sahawaris gathered around Hex as he sent the footage off to the news stations. When he had finished, he closed the lid of the palmtop and looked at the head of the daria. ‘That’s done,’ he said.
She nodded to show she understood, then looked each of them in the eye, finishing with a special smile for Khalid. Khalid proudly straightened his shoulders and stood as tall as he could.
‘I thank you,’ said the head of the daria, in heavily accented English. ‘We thank you.’
S
EVEN
EVEN
Paulo woke in the musty heat of the tent. He thought he had heard the musical sound of water trickling into a metal bowl, but the tent was silent now. He swallowed dryly, licked his cracked lips and decided that his thirst must have made him dream of water. Lifting his arm to his face, he peered at his watch in the dim light. It was early evening and he had slept the day away. Beside him, Hex and Alex were still deeply asleep on their camp beds.
Paulo closed his eyes and eased over on to his back with a groan. Every muscle in his body was aching fiercely, but his ears were just about back to normal. He could hear children shouting somewhere in the camp, and inside the tent there was the faintest rustle of cloth and the sound of – stifled giggles . . . ?
He opened his eyes. Li was standing over him with a brass bowl suspended above his head. She grinned at him, then tipped the bowl a little further and a shock of water cascaded down on to his face. Paulo sat up with a yell, shaking his head like a dog and sending sprays of water flying from his dark, curly hair. In the other camp beds, Alex and Hex lurched upright with identical yells as Amber doled out the same treatment.
‘C’mon sleepy-heads,’ she crowed. ‘This is your wake-up call. It’s time to rock and roll. Meet you at the Monster.’
Paulo, Hex and Alex used what was left of the water in the jug to wash themselves, then pulled on the freshly laundered gandourah and sirwal that had been laid out at the bottom of their camp beds. Finally, they pulled on their boots, automatically giving them a shake first to dislodge any scorpions.
Amber, Li and Khalid were waiting for them in a vehicle compound, next to the landing strip that served the camp. The strip was where the big-bellied aid agency planes landed, bringing bags of flour, sugar and lentils for the camp dwellers. The food supplies were loaded into the dusty old lorries in the compound and then distributed amongst the darias.
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