Authors: Chris Ryan
'I'm going to have to take my chances. Ready?'
'Ready.'
'One, two,
three
.' Ben slammed the accelerator down and headed straight for the men in front of him. But rather than scramble, as he had expected them to, they stood their ground. They aimed their AK-47s at the Land Rover, some of them pointing at the wheels, others at the windscreen.
And then they fired.
The windscreen turned opaque on the first impact of the bullets, blinding Ben's view momentarily before the glass shattered all over him. But even if he had been able to see properly, it wouldn't have done any good, because the two front tyres had been ripped apart by the bullets. Ben felt the vehicle veer dangerously, and even if he hadn't felt the need to duck away from the next onslaught of enemy fire, he would not have been able to keep the Land Rover under control. It swerved to the side of the road and came to a thumping and devastating stop as it smashed into a tree.
Within seconds, the men were upon them, dragging Ben and Halima roughly from the front seats and hurling them onto the ground in front of Suliman.
Ben looked up at his nemesis. There was a band of sweat beads forming on his upper lip and he looked immensely pleased with himself. He bent down and whispered, his mouth so close to Ben's ear that he could feel the sticky hotness of his breath. 'You have caused me much trouble, Ben Tracey,' he said.
Ben turned his face so that he was looking straight into Suliman's eyes. 'You're not going to get away with this.'
'Of course I am, you idiot. You two will be dead in less than a minute. Your fool of a father no doubt already is. And I hope you don't think that that peasant Abele will help you - last time I saw him, he was dying in ditch on the side of the road. You should have stayed in England, instead of trying to interfere with things you do not understand.'
Halima spoke. 'It's you who don't understand--'
'Silence!' Suliman said sharply. 'You are the most foolish of all, getting involved with these white men.'
He stood up and took a few steps back.
'The last time I ordered your execution,' he said, 'you were very lucky to get away. This time . . .' He shook his head meaningfully, then nodded at another of his men.
He approached with his rifle.
Ben started to shake as blind fear grabbed hold of him; he felt icy cold, as though all the strength that remained in his body had suddenly ebbed away, and he could tell that Halima was experiencing the same thing. He had to do something. Say something. Persuade Suliman that he was doing the wrong thing. But his mind wouldn't think straight, and in his dreadful state of panic there seemed to be an incessant buzzing in his ears that would not allow him to concentrate.
'What about the ancestors?' he heard himself shouting to Suliman, but his captor didn't seem moved by the threat.
The buzzing in Ben's ears grew louder; it was only with difficulty that he heard Suliman's next order. 'Kill them,' he shouted.
Suliman's man stepped towards them, rifle in his hand. His face was fixed into an unpleasant grin and he waved the gun between Ben and Halima as though teasing them with the threat of his imminent violence. The two of them stepped backwards towards the side of the road, Ben holding Halima steady as he could tell that her injured leg was making it difficult to walk, trying to get into the shelter of the forest but unwilling to turn their backs on this grinning assassin. Out of the corner of his eye, Ben could see Suliman cast his head over his shoulder nervously, as though he was aware of something approaching and wanted his business over and done with so he could get out of there. 'Do it!' he screamed.
The man raised his gun and aimed it at Ben's head. He was about ten metres away, and his trigger finger was twitching. As they stepped backwards again, Ben and Halima tripped over a branch and fell heavily to the ground. The assassin's smile grew broader. He lowered his aim and took another step forward towards the side of the road.
Nobody heard the click of the hidden landmine as he trod on it; but the explosion was so loud that for one deathly moment Ben thought he had been shot. The devastating effect of the landmine on the assassin soon put that thought from his mind. He was thrown two metres in the air and landed awkwardly in a scrambled heap somewhere between the exploded landmine and where Ben and Halima were sitting. The leg that had stepped onto the firing mechanism appeared to have been splintered in two along its length and blood was pouring out of the wound. His other limbs were gnarled and disjointed from the way he had fallen and his face was covered in blood and dirt. For a few horrible seconds his body twitched in the dust and then it lay still.
Everyone around looked at the dead man in shock; when he managed to snap out of it, Ben fully expected Suliman to order another of his men to kill them, and he prepared to lift Halima from the ground and run. But Suliman's attention had been diverted: he was looking all around and up into the sky, clearly worried, and Ben realized that the buzzing sound had not just been in his ears - everyone could hear it, and it was getting louder. It was more of a roar now, and all the guards - including the one Suliman had instructed to shoot them - were looking up to the sky.
Then they saw them.
Hovering into view above the trees came two khakicoloured Chinook helicopters. Their double rotary blades whipped up a deafening roar and caused the branches of the trees to blow back as if they were in the path of a gale. Ben felt the hair on his head being blown around, but his attention was fixed on Suliman and his men. They were staggering backwards, buffeted by the winds and looking scared and confused. They were not going to be carrying out Suliman's order. Not yet.
And then there was a voice, coming out over a loudspeaker from one of the Chinooks. It spoke in French first. '
Ici la force de maintien de la paix de l'ONU. Deposez vos armes. Je repete, deposez vos armes
.'
Ben looked desperately around him, unable to understand what was going on. And then he almost crumpled with relief as the voice spoke in English.
'This is the United Nations peacekeeping force,' it called. 'Throw down your weapons. I repeat, throw down your weapons.'
CHAPTER TWENTY-ONE
Suddenly there was confusion all around. The choppers manoeuvred themselves so that everyone was closed in and unable to escape either way down the road, and as they hovered, trap doors opened in the bottom and ropes dangled down. Almost before Ben knew what was happening, he saw figures in protective white suits being winched down. They looked terrifying, their faces masked with complicated breathing apparatus and their bodies encased in sealed clothing - like something out of a science-fiction movie, Ben thought. They carried guns, too, and as soon as they were on the ground they started rounding everybody up, indiscriminately, pointing their weapons in such a way that made it quite clear they would not hesitate to use them.
'What is happening?' Halima screamed desperately over the noise of the Chinooks' propellers.
'I don't know,' Ben shouted back.
Suliman was shouting too, barking instructions at his men that Ben couldn't make out; but the sight of the peacekeepers had thrown them into a frenzy of panic, and they were at that very moment throwing down their weapons. When Suliman realized what was happening, however, his eyes narrowed and he quietened down.
Whenever Ben tried to remember what took place next, he always found himself confused by a jumble of memories. He saw Suliman talking earnestly to one of the masked men, while the Chinooks landed in the road and the faceless, uniformed men ordered them all - in voices that sounded strangely robotic through the breathing apparatus - to make their way into the choppers.
And then they were sitting on the hard, uncomfortable floor with Suliman and his men looking on at them with pure hatred. Suliman particularly refused to take his dead eyes off Ben, who could only imagine what was going through his head. Only the threatening presence of three peacekeeping guards and their weapons stopped the situation erupting into violence - of that, Ben was sure. The guys from the UN might look scary, he thought to himself, but he was glad they were there.
Clearly Sam Garner must have heard his message.
'Where are we going?' he shouted at the guard who was nearest them as he felt the Chinook rise up into the air.
'Back to the village you came from, sir,' came the reply in a Midwestern American accent.
'Then what?'
There was a pause. 'Quarantine.'
Ben nodded grimly. Deep down it was what he had expected, but that didn't make it any easier to hear.
'Are there doctors arriving?' he asked. 'With medicine?' He was desperate to know what sort of chance his dad had.
The guard nodded. 'They're on their way. But from what I've seen . . .' His voice trailed off, and Ben could not persuade him to continue.
It only took a couple of minutes to fly back to the village, and the scene appeared to Ben to be one of organized mayhem. Chinooks seemed to be flying in from all around, and the place was swarming with masked, white-suited men unloading equipment and barking instructions at the frightened-looking villagers who were being herded around into small groups. Signs with the words '
Cordon Sanitaire
' had been put up all over the place; tents and a few more solid-looking structures were being erected with surprising speed.
Ben watched in horror as he saw stretcher after stretcher of the ill and the dying being carried into one of those tents. A long, canvas-covered corridor led out the back of it to an area Ben couldn't see. 'Where does that lead?' he asked the guard who had brusquely helped him and Halima down from the chopper.
'You don't want to know,' came the terse reply.
'I
do
want to know,' Ben shouted at him, his patience wearing thin. 'I'm the one who raised the alarm. I'm the one who got you here. Where does it go?'
The guard seemed to consider that for a moment. Finally he answered. 'Incinerator,' he said. 'They're building it now. We can't risk just burying the bodies.'
Ben let that sink in. 'I need to speak to the person in charge.'
The guard shook his head. 'We have our orders, sir. You need to proceed to the processing area.'
'No,' Ben argued. 'You don't understand. There are people in Kinshasa who knew--'
'The processing area, sir,' the guard said firmly, taking a firmer grip on his rifle.
Ben wasn't going to be bullied. Not now. 'You're either going to let me speak to whoever's in charge, or you're going to have to shoot me.' He jutted his chin out.
The guard appeared to think about it. Eventually he took a radio handset from his belt and spoke into it. 'This is Alpha Nine. I've got the English kid here. He's insisting on speaking to the commander. Over.'
There was a short crackle, and then another voice came over the radio. 'Roger that.'
Thirty seconds later, another masked man approached. 'What's the problem here?'
The guard started to speak, but Ben interrupted him. 'My name's Ben Tracey. I'm the person who informed Dr Sam Garner about the virus, and I'm the person who has just stopped a busload of people from the next village from entering Udok - so please stop fobbing me off.'
'OK, Ben,' the masked man said in a pacifying tone of voice. 'You need to calm down - I know who you are. What can I do for you?'
'Tell me what's happening for a start.'
'We're sealing the village. Everyone who may have come into contact with the virus is being placed into quarantine.' He paused. 'We were warned that you would be here, Ben, but I'm afraid my orders are very explicit. There can be no exceptions.'
'I know that,' said Ben urgently. 'But you have to listen to me. I know things about the virus - information that you have to have. I know where the virus is coming from.'
'OK, son. You'd better tell me what you've got.'
'It's the mine. You've got to seal it. My dad's a scientist and he thinks the reservoir - that's the organism that's harbouring the virus - is down there. It started off just killing bats in the cave, but now it's killing humans. There's no point simply sealing the village - you've got to make sure nobody else ever goes down there and that the infected bats don't fly out.'
Ben couldn't tell if the masked man had taken anything on board. 'Is there anything else,' he simply asked in his American drawl.
'Yes,' Ben stated fiercely. He pointed in the direction of where Suliman was walking to the processing area. 'When you picked us up, that man was trying to kill us, and he's been trying to kill us pretty much since we arrived. He knew about the virus, and he knew I might alert people. Put us in quarantine if you have to, but keep us away from him. He's a psycho.'
'What do you mean, he knew about the virus? Why would he put himself in danger like that? From what I can tell, everyone here thinks it's down to some sort of supernatural mumbo-jumbo.'
'Not Suliman,' Ben insisted. 'You have to believe me.'
'Excuse me, sir,' the guard who had accompanied them in the chopper interrupted.
'Go ahead, soldier.'
'It's true that the men we just picked up were armed, but they claim it was because the kids stole a Land Rover that they were trying to get back.'
The boss looked back to Ben and Halima. 'This true, son?'
'Yes,' Ben said with a sinking feeling, 'but--'
'I don't blame you trying to escape the village, son, but that's not going to happen now.'
'I wasn't trying to escape the village!' Ben shouted. 'I was--'
'OK, I've heard enough,' the commander overruled him. 'Our directions are clear: everyone's to be kept in quarantine. Nobody in there will be armed, so you should be perfectly safe.' He turned and walked away, leaving the guard to push Ben and Halima in the direction of a small group of villagers who were being organized by another of the faceless peacekeepers.
'Just shut down the mine!' Ben shouted over his shoulder. 'Whatever you do, shut down the mine!'
Seething with frustration, they started trudging to where the man had indicated. But Ben was hardly concentrating on where he was going, his attention diverted by the sight of more sick people being stretchered into the canvas tent. He knew perfectly well what he was looking for.
A white face.
He was halfway to the processing area when he saw it. Instantly he ran towards his father, doing his best to keep tears from welling up in his eyes; but before he had run even a few metres, he heard shouts from all around him. Appearing as if from nowhere, two armed peacekeepers stood between Ben and his dad. 'Stand back!' they shouted.
'No,' Ben snapped at them. 'It's OK, it's my dad.'
'No cross-contamination,' the peacekeeper insisted in an emotionless American accent. 'If you do not stand down, I
will
be forced to shoot. There will
not
be a second warning.'
Ben stood still. All eyes seemed to be on him. He looked past the guards to where his dad was being carried. Russell Tracey's face was still and pale; Ben watched in desperation as he was carried into the tent. Then he looked back at the peacekeepers, who still had their assault rifles aimed at him. Reluctantly he turned and trudged back to Halima.
'Maybe he is all right,' Halima said without much conviction. Ben didn't reply.
Ahead of them was a disturbance. Ben saw without surprise that Suliman was arguing with someone giving him instructions. Immediately he too was surrounded by two more armed peacekeepers, and eventually he moved, with a surly look but without further complaint, towards a group of people milling around waiting for yet more instructions.