Midnight Runner (28 page)

Dillon and Billy sat opposite Harry and Ferguson, while the Gulfstream turned at the end of the runway and awaited takeoff instructions. It was already less dark, but the moon still made a fine display.

Harry looked very tense. "Bleeding crazy. How can you jump from a thing like this? It's suicide."

"We did it in Cornwall two years ago," Billy said. "My first jump. I'm still here, aren't I? You worry too much."

A
t the airport at six-thirty, Kate Rashid, Dauncey, and Abu and two Bedu, all armed with AKs, climbed into the Scorpion. Carver, in the cockpit, looked over his shoulder. "The weather's changed. There's a bit of a headwind. It might take us a little longer."

"Just get on with it," Rupert Dauncey told him and turned to Kate. "Here we go then, cousin. What was that remark of yours? To make history?"

She was wearing a black jumpsuit and a burnoose, the hooded Bedu cloak. "I'm all in favor of that, darling. Give me a cigarette."

He lit two, passed her one, and they started to rise.

A
t the same time, the Gulfstream, approaching the target area, descended from five thousand feet to one thousand. Parry came from the cockpit, wearing headphones skewed a little so that his left ear was free.

"Four minutes, gentlemen."

Dillon and Billy strapped on their parachutes and suspended the AKs across their chests. Dillon looped a pair of Nightstalkers around his neck. They were standing now and waiting. Lacey started to reduce power. "Open the door," he told Parry over the headphone.

Parry did as he was told and dropped the steps. There was a mighty rush of wind as Lacey throttled back almost to stalling speed.

"Now!" he shouted. "One thousand feet."

Dillon went out on the first step and dived, Billy close behind him. Parry wrestled with the door and Ferguson turned to help him. Lacey boosted speed and turned away, climbing for the return to Hazar. It was quiet again.

Ferguson returned to his seat, and Harry said, "God help them."

I
n the light of the half moon, with dawn touching the horizon, the desert below and its many dunes was clearly visible and the line of the railway unmistakable, the huge oil pipelines running on both sides. The wind was stronger now, and Dillon found himself drifting. Billy was close at hand and a little higher.

Dillon got the Nightstalkers to his eyes and checked the line to his right, but there was nothing. He turned to the left, and there was Tank Five about a mile away, a blockhouse of some kind, and a water tower.

The ground was coming up fast, and a moment later he landed in soft sand between two enormous dunes and rolled over. He divested himself of his chute and started to cover it, when his name was called. He turned and found Billy halfway up the side of one of the dunes.

He finished burying his chute. Above him, Billy was doing the same and then started down. Dillon lit a cigarette and waited.

"Piece of cake," Billy told him as he arrived. "But I couldn't see any sign of the target."

"I did, thanks to the Nightstalkers. A mile down the line that way." He looked at his watch. "A quarter to seven. We'd better get moving," and they started down the side of the track.

T
here was much more light now as they reached Tank Five, the trip having taken a good half hour because of the difficulty of walking in the soft sand, which was being whipped up by the increasing wind.

The blockhouse, when they reached it, was a poor sort of thing constructed from concrete breezeblocks. There were a couple of windows, the frames long gone, and a wooden door which opened with difficulty, sand drifted against it. Inside, the pumping mechanism was rusted with age.

"That's not worked in years," Billy said. "Where do they get the water from? Maybe we got it wrong, Dillon, maybe it isn't a water halt anymore?"

They went outside and looked up at the tank, high on four rusting iron legs. A canvas tube was suspended from the underside of the tank, hanging beside an iron ladder. There was some sort of brass fitting on the end and Dillon examined it.

"It's certainly damp. There's a little seepage. I'll take a look."

He climbed the ladder and reached the top of the tank, which was covered, but there was an inspection hatch. It creaked open, and when he looked inside, the water level was almost to the top. He went back down the ladder.

"It's full. Obviously, the pumping system isn't working. Maybe the well ran dry. They probably couple a water tank to the train every so often and refill this tank that way."

"So it's still working. Thank God for that. Now what?"

"I'm going to check in with Tony Villiers."

W
ho was pushing hard, seated in the front Land Rover, the other four in a line behind him. They were in a small sandstorm, which could have been worse but was bad enough, for he and his men had had to cover their faces. In fact, he was lucky to hear his Codex and get it out of the left breast pocket of his bush shirt.

"Dillon here. I'm just touching base. Billy and I have made it to Tank Five. What about you?"

"We might reach the other side of the Bacu by eight-thirty, but I can't guarantee it. We've got a touch of sandstorm here."

"Yes, it's a bit like that here," Dillon told him. "Do your best. I'll call again to confirm the train's arrival."

"Good hunting," Villiers said.

Next, Dillon tried Ferguson, but got a no-response signal. All this he had done while sheltering inside the blockhouse with Billy.

"What happens when the train arrives?" Billy asked. "Do we stay in here?"

"I don't think so, just in case someone decides to take a look." Dillon went out and examined the terrain at the rear of the tower. There was a steep slope, large rocks and boulders here and there, sand drifting against them. "We'll take cover up there. When the train starts moving again, the blockhouse and tower will give us some cover as we come down the slope."

"We'll have to be damn quick. How do we board?"

"The guard's van at the rear."

"What if there isn't one?"

"There always is, Billy." Dillon glanced at his watch. "A quarter to eight. Time for the moment of truth."

There was a sound, a kind of whisper in the distance, and then a long, drawn-out whistle.

"Here she comes, Billy, let's get under cover." They started up the slope and bedded down.

T
he door by the toilet in the guard's van opened to a metal ledge. There was a coupling to one of the open cars loaded with oil pipes, a wooden plank walkway giving access across four open wagons in all. Then came the enclosed cars containing the explosives, the ladder to each of them leading to the roof. Finally, the water tank and the coal tender. The point was that the engine was totally reachable and there were small access doors at each end of the enclosed wagons.

All of which suited Keenan's purposes. During the trip from Al Mukalli, he and Casey and Kelly had laid their charges, opening the access doors between the two explosive wagons, linking them with det cord. The block of Semtex was in the front wagon, and the det cord also linked to chemical fuses Keenan had stuck in some of the explosives packages.

It hadn't taken long. He'd decided on a couple of timer pencils, after all. They were ten-minute jobs and already in place in the Semtex block and ready to be broken at the appropriate moment when the train was halted on the bridge.

In fact, for the past hour or so, Keenan had enjoyed himself more than he had in years. Casey and Kelly had returned to the guard's van and the whiskey bottle, but Keenan had made his way up to the engine and joined Ali and Halim on the footplate.

Ali had allowed him to handle the controls, drive the old engine, savor the wind in his face, the smell of steam, and Keenan had found it wonderful. As the train started up the steep gradient to Tank Five, he sounded the whistle. Yusuf had explained the necessity for the stop, and now Ali tapped him on the arm and took over. He started to slow the train down and up ahead was Tank Five.

C
rouched behind the rocks halfway up the slope, Dillon and Billy waited, and suddenly Dillon's Codex rang.

He answered instinctively. "Who is it?"

"Ferguson. I wondered what was happening."

"We're at Tank Five and the train's just toiling up the slope, that's what's happening, so I'd get off the line if I were you, General."

The train ground to a halt below amid a hissing of stream. Ali and Halim got down from the footplate, followed by Keenan.

"The man himself," Dillon said softly. "That's Barry Keenan, Billy, and that's Kelly and the other is Casey," he added, as they arrived, each with an AK slung from his shoulder. Yusuf trailed at the rear.

The voices below were muted, as Dillon and Billy watched, and Halim brought a length of canvas tubing linked to the train, which he clipped onto the end of the outlet tube at the bottom of the tank and started to work a lever, which was obviously a hand pump. Dillon debated whether to call Villiers and decided to leave it until they were on the train. Kelly and Casey were laughing at something.

"We could knock them off now," Billy whispered. "Why not?"

"Because we can't be certain what Keenan's done on the train. He'll have everything ready to blow, probably timers. I suspect the explosives will be in the enclosed freight cars, but we need one of those bastards to show us."

"I see your point."

At that moment, Halim uncoupled the canvas water tubes, Keenan got back on the footplate, and Kelly climbed up a ladder to the top of the front car and squatted there. Casey did the same, sitting behind him on the rear car. Ali and Halim followed Keenan and Yusuf moved to the rear of the train.

"The guard," Dillon said.

They watched him enter the guard's van and shut the door. Keenan, under Ali's supervision, was at the controls. He sounded the whistle, the train juddered, and there was a great cloud of steam.

"Move it, Billy," Dillon said and led the way, sliding down the slope at the rear of the blockhouse.

The train was moving now with a great clanking, and as it passed they ran out onto the track, reached for the rail of the platform to the guard's van, and heaved themselves up. Keenan kept pulling the whistle line. Billy and Dillon, AKs ready, stood on either side of the door.

Dillon got his Codex out and called Villiers. He got an answer almost immediately. "Is that you, Dillon?"

"As ever was. They've taken on water. Billy and I are on the platform at the rear of the guard's van. We're going in hard, so do your best and let Ferguson know."

He clicked off, put the Codex in his pocket, and grinned at Billy. "I'm an older guy, so you can have the honor."

"Bastard."

Dillon turned the brass handle and opened the door and Billy was through in a second, AK ready. At the desk, Yusuf turned in alarm as the two demons, dressed in black, appeared. Billy had him back against the desk, the muzzle of the AK under his chin.

"He'll kill you without hesitation," Dillon said in Arabic. "And the weapon is silenced. No one will know."

Yusuf was terrified. "Sahb, please don't."

"You speak English?"

"Yes."

"Then use it now, my companion has no Arabic. Answer my questions and live. Where are the explosives you carry?"

"On the two enclosed cars in the center of the train."

"The three men, the Irishmen, what have they done since you left Al Mukalli?"

"I don't know, Sahb."

"You lie. Kill him, Billy."

Billy stood back and took aim and Yusuf cried wildly. "No, Sahb, I speak the truth."

"You still lie. You are Rashid Bedu, you and the engine driver and fireman. I know this because the Countess boasted you were her people. As this is so, you must know the train stops on the Bacu Bridge, where the Irishmen will blow it up. Is this not so?"

"Yes, Sahb."

"So tell me the truth. What have they done, the Irishmen, since leaving Al Mukalli?"

Yusuf was in despair. "I only know that they have worked in the explosive cars for most of the time, but I was instructed to stay here, Sahb. I have not seen what they have done."

It was obviously the truth, and Dillon lit a cigarette and passed it to him. "Is it easy to get to those cars?"

"Yes, Sahb, through the door, and there are walkways across the open cars."

"So you can go all the way to the engine?"

"Yes, Sahb."

Dillon turned menacing. "Is there more to tell me or have you told me all?"

"I swear it on the life of my eldest son." He was obviously trying hard, sweat on his face. "They worked in the car for an hour or an hour and a half. Afterwards, two of them sat in here and drank whiskey. The leader joined Ali and Halim on the footplate. He's been driving the train."

"Driving it?"

"Yes, Sahb, when we were taking on water, Ali told me he is like a young boy. He loves trains."

"Did he tell Ali this?"

"No, Sahb, he has no Arabic and Ali no English. It's just the way he behaves."