‘Roger that,’ Matt replied, and without a second glance he disappeared into the darkness.
‘Walk behind me, Ben,’ Ricki instructed. ‘You know why.’
Ben nodded.
Ricki moved swiftly, his head moving from left to right as he scanned the surrounding area through his night-vision goggles. Occasionally he would stop, holding up one hand to indicate that Ben should do the same. Ben would watch, holding his breath, as the SAS man raised his weapon. He always lowered it again, though, and kept moving.
Ben tried not to think about the threat of landmines; he tried to put from his mind the image of Toby and Jack’s burning truck and instead concentrate on walking in the footsteps of his special forces chaperone. Behind them, he heard shouts in the distance: the two platoons of British army soldiers, he assumed, and he wondered if they would be picking their way through this minefield as bravely as Ricki was. Probably not, he decided, and he wouldn’t blame them.
Suddenly, a noise.
‘What’s that?’ Ben hissed.
Ricki had already heard it. He came to a halt and fell to one knee in the firing position. Ben peered into the darkness, squinting to try and see what it was. There was nothing, so he had to rely on his ears to identify the sound. An engine. A low hum. It sounded like a…
‘Motorbike,’ Ricki said, his voice taut. He raised his NV goggles up onto his helmet and pressed one eye into the hologram sighting system of his weapon.
And then he fired. Once. Twice.
Up ahead there was a noise. A small explosion. Ricki pushed himself to his feet and ran in the direction of the sound. Ben followed close behind.
Ten seconds passed.
Twenty.
And then, in front of them, they saw it.
The motorbike was mangled. The rounds from Ricki’s gun had burst one of the tyres and twisted the rest of the vehicle into a contorted hunk of metal. It was lost on neither of them, Ben realized, that the one thing they couldn’t see was the driver.
‘Wait there,’ Ricki instructed. He moved his NV goggles down again and, weapon at the ready, prowled into the darkness.
Silence. Just the crunch of Ricki’s footsteps on the unwelcoming earth. Ben held his breath. They were close. They had to be. Aarya was nearby. And the bomb…
‘If you say a word, I will kill you.’
The voice hissed in his ear just as Ben felt a strong arm wrap its way around his throat and the butt of a gun press into the side of his ribcage.
‘Amir,’ he breathed. Ricki’s footsteps grew quieter.
‘You are foolish to come here.’ Amir’s mouth was only a few centimetres from Ben’s ear: he could feel the warmth of his breath and smell the sweat on his skin. ‘More foolish, even, than the girl. Now you will die together. We will all die together.’
Ben’s throat hurt: Amir was almost strangling him. But he managed to speak. ‘Just tell me where the bomb is, Amir. You can’t just kill all these people.’
Amir snorted. ‘They would kill me if they had the chance — which they won’t.’
‘But if the dam blows, the whole river will flood. Think about it, Amir. Think what will happen. You won’t be killing British soldiers — you’ll be killing innocent people.’
‘Silence!’ Amir whispered. ‘We are going to move away from here. Walk. Now!’
He pushed Ben away from the wreck of the motorbike. The gun dug deeper into his ribs. Ben didn’t even stop to think. He knew the risk; he knew that he was just the squeeze of a trigger away from death.
But if the bomb exploded, they’d all be dead anyway.
‘Ricki!’ he shouted. ‘Help!’
The noise that came from Amir’s throat was like a snake — a long, sibilant hiss of anger. He clenched Ben’s throat harder — so hard that he found it difficult to breathe. But he didn’t shoot, and within seconds the SAS man emerged from the darkness. He still had his NV goggles on and the extendable butt of his M16 was firmly pressed into his shoulder, ready to fire.
Ricki stopped ten metres from where Ben was held captive. ‘Let him go or I shoot,’ he barked.
Ben sensed that Amir had lowered his head so that it was directly behind Ben’s. ‘Then shoot,’ he said, ‘if you want to kill the boy as well as me. Or if you don’t, turn round and start walking.’
Ricki didn’t move. He was like a statue. His gun was perfectly still and to Ben’s eyes it looked as if it was trained directly at him.
Silence.
Stand-off.
An image flashed through Ben’s mind, from just a couple of hours before — the town of Angoor. Two men lay dead in the street, killed by single shots from Ricki’s gun. The SAS man wouldn’t hesitate to shoot if he thought he could get a direct hit. The fact that he hadn’t fired meant the target wasn’t properly in his sights.
It was up to Ben to change that.
He drew a deep breath. It was difficult because his throat was constricted by Amir’s arm. He would only get one chance at this, he knew. It had to go right.
He gathered his strength.
When he moved, it was with a swift, sudden jerk. Amir was taller and stronger, but Ben had the element of surprise. With all his force, he spun round in a semicircle, taking Amir with him. Now they were both facing away from Ricki, but Amir had his back to him.
The SAS man didn’t hesitate. A single shot was all it required for Amir’s vice-like grip to be released. Ben staggered forward, then turned round, fully expecting to see his captor on the floor. But Amir was still standing. Blood flowed from a massive wound that seemed to have taken away half his shoulder; his face was contorted with pain; but he was still on his feet. His milky eye glowing in the moonlight, he staggered away from both Ricki and Ben, towards the edge of the cliff.
Ricki kept his gun trained on the terrorist. ‘Where’s the bomb?’ he demanded. ‘Tell me now or I’ll finish you off.’
Amir’s head lolled. He kept walking backwards towards the edge of the cliff as blood continued to pump from his wounded shoulder. He said something in his own language: it was little more than a whisper, but it sounded strangely evil.
‘The bomb,’ Ricki repeated. ‘Where is it?’
Amir’s eyes flashed. He looked at Ben with a tooth-filled grin, but there was no pleasure or humour in that smile. None whatsoever. He continued to stagger backwards.
Ricki stepped forward. Amir was at the edge of the cliff now. He had stopped walking back because there was nowhere else to go. Only thin air, and it was clear where that would lead.
‘Tell me where it is,’ Ricki persisted. ‘It’s your only chance.’ He continued to walk towards Amir, his gun pointed at the man’s head.
‘Chance?’ Amir rasped. ‘I do not believe in chance. Everything happens for a reason. That is why I am here. The bomb will explode any minute, and my rewards will be in paradise.’
His grin grew wider. More manic. His white eye bulged as he looked from Ben to Ricki and then back again. ‘You will die now,’ he announced. ‘And so will your friend — if she has not done so already.’
‘Where is she?’ Ben yelled.
But too late.
Amir made no noise as he stepped backwards, his eyes shining with fervour. One minute he was there; the next he wasn’t, like a magician who had made himself disappear.
Ricki and Ben ran to the edge of the cliff. Teetering on the brink, they stared down into the void below. Ben had no idea what Ricki could see with the aid of his night-vision; all he knew was that he himself could see nothing but darkness.
Seconds passed. Amir did not scream as he fell. He went to his death without a sound.
There was a moment of utter silence.