The Judas Gate (27 page)

The Colonel did as he was told. They led the way and Dillon and Miller followed, the Irishman at the oars. The reeds were alive with life in the pale moonlight as they floated past, wings beating and muted cries as they disturbed the birds.

After a while, Dillon said, ‘I’ve had enough of this, so I’m shipping my oars and starting up.’ His thumb on the button produced a gratifying growl, which he turned down until it balanced out to a pleasant throbbing. Hakim achieved the same results and they nosed into a sort of small lagoon, the reeds towering above them, the half-moon still glowing in a dark sky that was already clearing. They floated there together.

‘Where are we?’ Holley asked Hakim. ‘How far to Diva?’

‘Perhaps a mile,’ Hakim told him, and pointed. ‘From here, think twelve o’clock as you look ahead, and Diva is ten o’clock.’

Way behind them in the distance, there was the sound of an engine. ‘It’s one of the launches,’ Hakim said and stood up.

There was the crack of a rifle quite close by and he was struck in the left side of his chest, spun round and went into the water. Holley reached over and got him by the collar and half turned the boat, towing Hakim behind.

‘Get out of it, for God’s sake, and into the reeds as quickly as you can,’ he called. He crashed the boat through, came to a halt, switched off the engine and realized he was alone, except for Hakim in the water.

So often in life, the most careful plans are disrupted for the simplest of reasons – in this case it was due to a police officer named Abu, one of those sleeping in the shack. Awakened by a bad stomachache, he had taken a torch and visited the outside latrine. He had noticed the absence of the two sentries and, on investigation, had found one of them in the water between
Evening Star
and the jetty. The further discovery that there was no one on the launch had sent him on the run to alert Nadim. The Sergeant’s more thorough check had discovered the second sentry also in the water.

It seemed absurd to deduce from what had happened that Ali Hakim had been party to the murder of two of his own
men, and the only plausible explanation was that the others had been responsible. As a quick search failed to discover Hakim’s body, Nadim could only conclude that Dillon and his friends had taken him with them. But what for? He called Omar Hamza on his mobile.

Hamza listened to him, and Fatima and Talbot, awakened by the disturbance, awaited an explanation. Hamza said into his phone, ‘God knows what’s happened, but I suggest you come into the marsh heavily armed. I’ll stay put in the trading post and greet them with a machine gun if they turn up here. Get moving.’

‘What’s going on?’ Talbot asked.

Hamza told him. ‘It doesn’t make a lot of sense to me.’

‘Well, it certainly does to me.’ Justin was actually smiling. ‘What bastards they are, Dillon and Holley. They know what we’re up to. Don’t you see, they’ve got Hakim with them, who’s probably shot his mouth off, and he’s leading them to me.’

He was full of energy, went back in the other room, hooked up his veil, slung his weapons bag across his chest and picked up his AK47.

‘So what are you going to do?’ Hamza asked.

‘Go hunting, give them a nice surprise. What about you?’

‘I’ve got an old Browning machine gun. I’ll set it up on the jetty and await events.’

‘Fort Zinderneuf?’

‘Ah, you’ve read
Beau Geste?’
Hamza smiled. ‘An Englishman named Wren wrote that book. He actually served in the Legion.’

‘Very interesting, but that was then, this is now. These men who are coming are killers of the first water.’

‘I know this, my friend, if only because I trained Daniel Holley myself. I can only wish you luck.’ He turned to Fatima. ‘What about you?’

‘I think I’ll go with him. You know what you’re doing, he doesn’t. He thinks he knows everything, this one, but he doesn’t know the marsh and he could get lost. We’ll take
Stingray.’

‘You’re worse than your mother was.’ Hamza shrugged. ‘As Allah wills.’

Talbot followed her outside and looked down at the
Stingray.
‘Is the sport fisherman the sensible boat to use? I’d have thought an inflatable with an outboard.’

‘The reeds are fifteen and sometimes twenty feet high, so they’ll conceal the upper deck, but at the same time, standing at that wheel, I can peer over occasionally and see where we are and what’s going on.’

‘That makes perfect sense.’ He dropped down to the deck and she followed. ‘I’ll be guided by you, so let’s get moving.’

She cast off and went up the ladder to the wheel, and Talbot followed and stood beside her, the AK cradled in his arms. It started to rain; as they drifted out, she switched on the engine and kept it down to a low rumble. There was the grey light of dawn now, and a curtain of mist floated in.

‘When we have the heat of high summer and unexpected heavy rain, it produces the mist,’ she told him.

‘At least it makes it easier to play hide and seek,’ he said.

They nosed into the reeds. Suddenly, wildfowl lifted in a
cloud some little distance away, the birds angrily calling, and Fatima cut the engine.

‘Something caused that. Keep your head low, but we can look with caution.’ She produced a pair of Zeiss glasses from the map compartment and focused them. ‘Ah, a flash of orange.’ She nodded and turned to him, handing the glasses over. ‘And another. Two of them. Inflatables with outboards.’

‘Can we get closer?’

‘Not without making a noise. I’ll try using the pole. You stay here watching.’

She went down to the stern and commenced, and Talbot watched cautiously as the reeds parted and
Stingray
floated through; some distance away to the left he could hear the sound of an engine.

‘What do you think?’ he called down to Fatima.

‘It sounds like two engines. I think Nadim has probably brought both boats.’

‘How many men?’

‘Sixteen or so. Each boat has a machine gun mounted. There’s nothing those bastards like better than sweeping the marshes with those things, shooting everything in sight like schoolboys playing with toys.’

‘The next thing you’ll be saying is: that’s men for you. Just a little closer, if you will.’ She did as he asked, and everything happened in a hurry.

‘There they are, two small orange inflatables in a waterway. Two men to each boat. I can’t see who it is because they’re wearing jungle kit and their faces are black, but here goes.’

He took deliberate aim and fired twice, saw his target fall into the water. ‘Did you get him?’ Fatima called up.

‘Oh, yes.’ Talbot smiled in triumph and, for a moment, forgot to keep low. Sean Dillon, with an uncertain glimpse of the Tuareg who was Shamrock, took a snap shot. It drilled Talbot’s left side, and he staggered back awkwardly, dropping the AK and sliding down the ladder.

Fatima was on her knees. ‘Merciful Allah, how bad is it?’

‘Well, I wouldn’t know, would I?’ He managed a smile. ‘You’ll have to take a look. I’ve got a medical kit in my rucksack. You must find the morphine. When you’re first shot, the shock kills the pain, but not for long.’

The engines of the approaching launches sounded louder now. ‘They’re coming fast,’ Fatima said.

‘Yes, well, let’s keep our heads down and stay out of it. Just let them get on with it. If you look in my rucksack, you’ll find half a bottle of Cognac, too. Get me that first.’

Holley had dragged Hakim out of the water, and the Colonel lay there groaning, soaked to the skin, blood oozing through. He was obviously in a very bad way. Holley had been aware of the return shot and called out. ‘Dillon, Miller, where are you?’

There was no reply, so he took out a spring knife and cut open Hakim’s tunic. He knew just how bad it was straight away, and Hakim moaned, ‘I’m going to die, Daniel.’

‘Shut up and lie still,’ Holley said. ‘This isn’t exactly the best place for medical treatment.’ He took two morphine
ampoules from his bag because he figured one wouldn’t be enough, jabbed them in, tore open a pack containing a wound dressing, and applied it.

Hakim shook his head. ‘A waste of time. This is Allah’s punishment on me for my betrayal of you and Malik, the most shameful thing I have ever done in my life.’

‘Don’t worry about it,’ Holley told him. ‘I understand. Osama, Al Qaeda and the Preacher really had you in their clutches.’

Hakim clutched at Holley. ‘But at least I can make amends before I go.’

‘And how would you do that?’

‘To others, the Preacher is just a voice on the phone, but not to me. I gave the special mobile he supplied to an electronic genius. He managed to break into the system.’

‘And who is the Preacher?’ Holley said, suppressing his excitement.

‘He’s a British-born Muslim named Hassan Shah. He lives in Bell Street, West Hampstead, I’ve checked. He’s investigated war crimes for the British Government and is a Professor in International Law at the London School of Economics.’

‘Good God almighty,’ Holley said. ‘We’ve got the bastard.’

‘Yes, I believe you have.’ Hakim’s hand tightened on Holley’s jacket, he convulsed, and his head fell to one side.

Holley sat there looking at him for a moment, wondering about his next move, but he was not given a choice. Small waves rippled though the reeds as the speed of whichever boat was approaching increased, and then the boat’s heavy machine gun sprayed recklessly through the reeds and there was coarse laughter.

The inflatable rocked violently as the launch passed, and Holley took a fragmentation grenade from his bag and lobbed it over blindly. There were cries of dismay, followed by a violent explosion. He eased out into the channel and saw the
Evening Star
well alight. Two men with their uniforms on fire jumped into the water. Holley took another grenade out and lobbed it after the others, which seemed to finish the boat and the entire crew.

But there was still the
Fortuna
somewhere out there; Holley could hear the engines and the sound of its heavy machine gun firing into the reeds at random. He called Dillon on his Codex.

‘What’s your situation?’ Dillon demanded.

‘Hakim was hit by a sniper. Never saw who, but he’s dead.’

‘The sniper was Shamrock in his Tuareg get-up. I fired back and he definitely went down.’

‘I got the
Evening Star
with two grenades and watched them die. Where are you?’

‘Not far away at all. We’ll move closer to the boat and find you.’

‘Well, one other thing I must tell you, in case I get knocked off myself. It turns out that Hakim knew the name and address of the Preacher.’

‘Jesus, Mary and Joseph,’ Dillon said. ‘Tell me.’ Which Holley did, and Dillon said angrily: ‘The bastard. I can just see him now, standing in the dock at the Old Bailey claiming his human rights.’

There was another burst of obviously haphazard machine
gun fire not too far away. ‘So what are we going to do?’ Holley asked.

‘Do you still have Hakim’s body?’

‘Sure I do. I didn’t know what to do.’

‘We’re only yards away from the
Evening Star
and it’s burning nicely. Start calling out and we’ll call out, too, and see if we can get together before the
Fortuna
turns up. If Nadim’s still on it, he won’t be pleased.’

A hundred yards or so away, the machine gun fired again, so Holley started up, shouting, and could immediately hear Dillon and Miller calling. In a few minutes, they connected.

‘Now what?’ Holley asked.

‘Hakim did us nothing but harm in life,’ Dillon said, ‘but I’ve got a use for him in death. Don’t waste time, because the
Fortuna’s
coming up fast. We’ll dump your inflatable next to what’s left of the
Evening Star
with Hakim sitting up in it, the perfect ambush.’

Nadim was at the wheelhouse of the
Fortuna
as it broke out into the channel and saw the smoke and what was left of the
Evening Star
still burning. His men cried out angrily as bodies floated by, and then Nadim saw the inflatable and Hakim propped up in it. There were cries of rage from the men.

Nadim cut the engine and came out. ‘Get the pole and hook him in.’

Three men started to do that. There were only the marsh sounds in the rain, smoke drifting, the fire crackling as they lifted Hakim up on to the deck.

Nadim had never known such rage. ‘Dillon,’ he roared out in Arabic, ‘I will cut you to pieces, and feed you to the fishes when I find you.’

‘Over here,’ a voice responded in Arabic.

The grenades bounced on deck, two at the same time, then a third that rolled against Hakim. It was the last thing Nadim saw on this earth.

Somewhere nearby in the rain, there was the sound of a plane taking off, but in the mist there was little to see.

‘Are you thinking what I’m thinking?’ Holley asked Miller and Dillon.

‘I definitely shot the Tuareg,’ Dillon said.

‘Well, let’s do the sensible thing and go see your friend Omar Hamza,’ Miller said to Holley.

As they emerged at the side of the lagoon, they saw the sport fisherman, with Fatima at the wheel, moving towards the trading post. Holley checked through his binoculars. ‘Hamza’s sitting beside a Browning machine gun,’ he said, and called loudly across the water. ‘It’s Daniel, let’s talk.’

Fatima got out of the sport fisherman and tied up and turned to look at them all. Hamza shouted, ‘Okay, come over.’

He was drinking beer and sitting there beside his machine gun when they arrived. Fatima leaned in the doorway, arms folded, watching them closely.

Hamza said, ‘So you’ve been killing again, Holley? How many?’

‘All of them except for Ali Hakim. Shamrock shot him twice.’

‘So he’s dead?’

‘He lived long enough to tell me a few interesting things. Was that Shamrock flying away?’ ‘So it would appear,’ Hamza said.

‘I thought I’d shot him,’ Dillon said. ‘He shot Hakim.’

Fatima nodded. ‘So you did. You hit him in the left side and the bullet came out through his back.’

‘And you patched him up?’ Dillon asked.

‘He had a military kit. He told me what to do. I gave him morphine.’