The Collectors - Book Four: Diamonds and Sand (The Collectors Series 4) (20 page)

“I heard
,” said Bear.

“We take them out,” said Akeem. His blade
glinted in the firelight.

“Wait until the storm arrives,” said Amadou.

“I agree, “said Petros. “It does help to have a plan. How long will the storm last is my first question?”

“It is
very high, Mr Petros, could last two to three days. Better to stay where we are.”

“Visibility will be
crap and the noise horrendous,” said Bear. “Ideal for concealment but difficult to breath.”

“Once we leave this cavern it
’s shit or bust time,” said Petros. “We need masks to cover our eyes and mouth.”

“Bear ripped a length of cloth from his clothes. “One mask.”

Petros laughed. “Don’t rip your clothes to shreds. The sight of you naked is not recommended.”

“Jocelyn never complains.”

“Bet she turns off the light.”

“We haven’t
made contact with the girls for twenty-four hours. They’ll be starting to worry.”

“When we’re out of here and those bastards no longer a problem, I’ll phone Maria. Until then, she’s second on my list of priorities.”

“An
attack by us is the last thing those krauts will expect,” said Bear.

“In the dark and zero viz.
Perfect.”

“The old blind mice routine will work.”

“Time to eat,” said Petros. “I understand the chef has prepared his greatest delicacy, beef stew.”

Bear grinned.
“I tested one tin. Had to check if they were fit to eat. This chef recommends the beef.”

Bear sliced off the tops with a knife and placed the
tins in the ashes of the fire. The stew bubbled and overflowed, the aroma making their mouths water.

With full stom
achs, each man readied his AK 47 and manufactured a head-scarf with eye slits. This completed, they rested.

“
Petros, how much longer do we have to sit and wait? Darkness arrived ages ago,” said Amadou.

He glanced at his watch, midnight.
“Time, gentlemen,” said Petros. “I suggest Bear and our provisions go first, followed by our weapons and ZZ. Each of us will carry one container of water. Amadou and Akeem next, with me last. Whatever happens we’re not coming back. Any questions?”

In the flickering light from the
failing fire, they nodded, picked up their weapons, water and waited.

Bear took a deep breath and prepared him
self for the climb, aware why Petros wanted him to be first. Ascending to the first level posed no problems but his large frame found it difficult to negotiate through the centre of the tower. He hummed Rule Britannia, and with a few deft kicks from his right foot, made the top.

For almost a minute, he held his breath as his head poked through the slats. He concentrated, grabbed the dangling wire, hoisted his bulk up and through the chimney. Flat on his back the wind whipped at his clothes. “Thank Christ for that.” He pulled his mask across his face and rolled towards the hole. ZZ was ready.

“F
ood and water, Mr Bear.”

Bear grabbed each container and his weapon, placing them to one side. Without faltering, he gripped ZZ’s arms and pulled him through the opening. “Sit there with your back to the storm. Don’t move.”

ZZ sat with his head low as the storm pounded his back.
Amadou and Akeem did likewise.

Petros hung onto the wire and began to sway back and forth until the tower tumbled and crashed. H
e climbed, assisted by Bear, who grabbed his collar and heaved.

The driving sand
, whipped into confusion by the gale force wind, stung bare flesh. The night and nature’s punishment gave better cover than they could have ever anticipated.

Petros
nodded to Bear who understood. Their lives were on the line, one mistake could be one too many.

He
separated the cables, tied one end to his belt and passed the end to Akeem. “Allow two metres.”

A few minutes elapsed before they were ready.

Pummelled by the wind and sand, they descended to the desert floor one step at a time. Petros glanced at his team aware he could not see further than a few metres.

Once off the slope Petros pulled the line together
and put one arm around Bear’s shoulders. “Recommendations?”

With his arms
, Bear hugged the men close. “One, keep the wire tight until we find our tent or the Toyotas. Two, shoot to kill because those bastards will. Three, make sure they’re dead. A wounded man can still pull a trigger.”

Each man nodded
in agreement.

In a line at right angles to the slop
e, Bear counted the paces. Blind, the team groped its way. At one hundred steps they stopped. He turned and tugged the wire and marched a short distance before repeating the process in the opposite direction. On the third pass, they found both Toyotas and established their bearings.

They formed a group
utilising the vehicles as protection.

“
Let’s end this,” said Petros. “We go in firing short bursts. ZZ, stay here.” He crawled across the shifting ground.

Each
slithered across the sand until the canvas of tent was within touching distance. The howling wind covered them in a layer of sand. Bear rose and knelt. The others copied his move. Petros, Bear and Amadou fired several short bursts of automatic fire, raking the tent. Cautious, they dropped to the ground and waited.

Petros
flat on his stomach, followed by Bear, edged into the tent.

On seeing
the blood-soaked ground, Bear stood and without any consideration put a shot through the heads of two men. He approached the third, cocked his AK and fired as the fourth raised his weapon.”

“Bear,” shouted Akeem
, but the noise of sand and wind striking the tent killed the warning. A flash of steel and a finely-honed blade struck the man in the neck. His eyes stared straight ahead as the pressure of his finger squeezed the trigger.

Petros
dived as bullets struck the ground and thudded into the corpse in front of him. “Shit, that was close.” He stood, cocked his AK, fired and made sure the man was dead.

Bear lay
on the ground, blood ran from the right side of his head. 

A
ction gave Petros an adrenalin surge. He knelt beside his friend searching for a pulse. It was there, good and strong. “Thanks, Akeem.”

Akeem shrugged, his face showed
no feeling. “Pleased I didn’t miss.”

“I doubt if you ever miss
with a knife. You are more than competent. Water, can you see any?”

Akeem and Amadou rummaged and discovered several containers of drinking water. “This should be good enough to bath the wound. How
serious is it?” asked Akeem.

“
Deep crease. He’ll have one hell of a headache when he wakes up.”

“Mr Petros
, is Mr Bear dead?” said ZZ as he entered the tent.

“It ta
kes more than a flesh wound to kill this man. Return to our vehicles and find the first aid kits.”

***

ZZ turned, covered his face and crawled in the direction of the first Toyota. The wind and sand battered his thin frame until his head struck the vehicle. He stood in the calmness of the lee, swept away the accumulated sand, opened the passenger door and clambered over the front seats to the rear. With the aid of the internal passenger light, he searched until he found the box with the large red cross. With determination he shoved the rear door and it opened enough to squeeze his body through the gap. Blinded by the dark, he stared into the storm and crawled towards the tent. His face covered by a mask, he found the tent and slid through the entrance. 

“Thank you,” said Petros. “Any problems?”

He shook his head. “I am the eldest son, I understand the desert, the wind speaks to me.”

“Good, but next time attach a line. just in case. A pillow for Bear’s head please and help me with the bandage?”

ZZ obeyed
, watching while Petros soaked a sterile pad in a purple liquid and cleaned Bear’s wound.

“The widest bandage
, ZZ.”

“This is
the largest, Mr Petros.”

Petros gave a wry smile. “Then that will have to do.” With a clean dressing in place he secured it in position with the bandage. Finished
, he looked at ZZ. “Now we let him rest.”

“The bodies,” said Akeem.
“We’ll dump them into the cavern when the storm passes.”

“It wil
l make explanations much easier,” said Petros. “That’s if anyone asks.”

***

Bear tried to ignore the pain in his head until he remembered. He opened his eyes and stared at the billowing canvas above him. He forced himself to sit up and wished he hadn’t. A lightning bolt pierced his temple and a mule kicked the back of his head in unison.

He raised himself on his elbows and
his gaze focussed on ZZ a metre away, sleeping. The throbbing in his head ebbed and flowed as he gently fingered the bandage. “So I’m still in the real world,” he muttered. “Thank Christ for that. Jocelyn would have murdered me. Might as well rest until they wake.”

With a sigh he fell back, closed his eyes, thankful the bullet had not been one centimetre more to the left.

***

The wind dropped mid-afternoon and weak sunlight filtered through the dirty canvas. Inside the tent eyes unaccustomed to brightness opened.

             
“What day is it?” asked Bear to no one in particular.

             
“Friday, I think,” said Amadou.

             
“How’s the head?” said Petros.

             
“Sore.”

             
“You can thank Akeem for saving your life.”

             
Bear glanced towards Akeem. “We’re quits but thanks.”

             
He lowered his head. “Allah directed my blade.”

             
“Bear, you’re on kitchen duty. Get your brain in gear and help ZZ make breakfast,” said Petros. “Akeem. Amadou, you’re with me.”

             
“Where are we going?” asked Amadou frowning.

“Outside to see if we have a serviceable vehicle or it’s a long walk home.”

“Makes sense. Although once the sand built up around the tent it was quite cosy in here. Can’t we wait for breakfast?”

“As it won’t make much
difference, why not? I’m still going outside,” said Petros. With a heave, he lifted the tent flap on one side allowing a deluge of sand to flow inside and crawled out. “Jesus Christ.” He stopped and stared in disbelief. To his right, left and centre nothing but sand existed. A chill danced on his spine. The Toyotas, where are they? With every step his feet sank into the dry gritty sand as he strode towards where he believed them to be. One-step, stomp, and listen. This method he continued one step at a time. The roof of a land-cruiser gave a distinct sound as his right foot struck. He dropped to his knees and with a sweeping motion pushed the sand away until he could see the roof. Softly he said, “It’ll take a day to dig this out and even then we won’t know if it starts.”

With his head low
, he returned to the tent mulling over their predicament. His eyes cast a look over the four heaps of sand a few metres from the tent. Must get rid of those before nightfall, he thought.

“We have a problem or two,” said Petros as he slumped onto the cushions covering the ground.

“Tell us something new,” said Amadou as he cleaned his AK.

“The cars are covered in sand.”

“I expected nothing less,” said Amadou. “As much as I love you guys, you have little knowledge of the desert. The British and German armies during the last war learnt the hard way. For over two days, we have been in the midst of a sand storm. Do you know how dunes are formed?”

“I think he’s going to tell us,” said Bear.

“I’m not that interested,” said Petros.

“You will listen and understand,” said Amadou. “When the wind hit the cars
, it went over and round. Behind is a spot where the wind-speed drops and dumps the sand. I’m not surprised they are covered. The problems are getting them out and are they driveable?”

“
From memory, the shovels are in the back,” said Petros, “and it’s getting warm out there. How much water do we have?”

“With what we found here, give or take fifty litres,” said Akeem.

“Then I suggest we dig till noon, keep out of the afternoon sun and start again in the evening,” said Petros. “
Let’s eat.”

Breakfast over
and salt tablets eaten, Petros ordered, “Hats on, time to play in the sand.”