I could see no other way of sorting out this shit. It was going to create more drama, but at least the boy would stay alive. Drama I could get to grips with. Dead kids — all I could do was bag them up and take them back to where they’d come from.
I made a move towards BB. Now I was closer I could make sense of his yells. ‘Get these fucking animals off the technical now. Get them off. I want them off — now!’
I turned to comply. Awaale was manning the 12.7.
It pointed our way.
I threw up my hands. ‘No, Awaale. No!’
His hand moved to the cocking handle.
‘No! Don’t fucking fire!’
The Skyvan rolled towards the runway with its ramp down. Its red interior lights glowed on the tarmac behind it. Its twin props whirled. I kept waving my arms like a madman at anyone with a weapon. ‘No firing! No firing!’
Everywhere I looked, there were too many fingers on triggers.
BB kept edging towards the technicals. ‘Get ’em out. Get ’em out!’
I shouted and motioned to Awaale to leave the wagon, but he wasn’t going anywhere. He had the biggest gun and he was going to use it if he wanted to. I took a pace forward and put myself between them, pointing at BB and bellowing, ‘Wait there, fucking wait there — I’ll sort it out.’
BB was almost foaming at the mouth. ‘Fucking do it. Get that technical. I’ll fucking drop this boy. You know I’ll do it.’
He’d be fucked if he did, but I had no doubt that he would. I held both hands out as if I was trying to stop two lots of traffic. I broke into a run towards the technical. The two covering the Georgians had their AKs pointing here, there and everywhere, screaming at Awaale, desperate to know what he wanted them to do.
Still manning the 12.7, Awaale couldn’t make sense of any of this. He could no longer feel the love. I reached the side of the wagon. He stared down at me.
‘Forget it. Let him take them.’
‘But this will look very bad, Mr Nick. My men … I am going to be their leader …’
‘That’s right, mate. But I’m going to beg, make it look good for you. You tell them later that you decided to let them go, for the boy’s sake. All good leaders must show wisdom and kindness, mate. The boy …’
I got down on my knees, hands together.
‘Please, Awaale, please.’
He liked the reaction from the two crew beside him.
‘But why does he want that child?’
‘Because everything is about the boy, Awaale. The man with the money, the powerful man — that is his son. Just leave the wagon, Awaale. We must keep the boy safe. We don’t need any more drama from the father, believe me. I told you, he can reach anywhere he wants …’
BB was still going ape-shit, but staying static. He knew this was his best option for now.
The two Georgians, still naked and against the back of the cab, began to taste freedom. They gave me a smirk. Dec gobbed at me as I got to my feet. It hit me on my right shoulder. I wanted to reach over and throttle the fucker, but that would have to wait. ‘Awaale, let it go. Fuck ’em.’
The Skyvan had reached the end of the runway.
‘And fuck Erasto. You’ll just have to take over tonight, won’t you?’
He was still struggling to compute. I had to scream like a drill sergeant to get through to him. ‘Give — them — the — wagon!’
His face crumpled. He almost looked hurt. I took a deep breath, forced myself to be calm. ‘Please, Awaale … Please …’
He thought about it.
Finally, achingly slowly, he waved an arm at the two crew to debus. The lads jumped off, and he followed.
Ant and Dec got to their feet. The driver was out. Ant vaulted over the side and took the wheel. BB reversed towards the wagon, muzzle still glued to the back of Stefan’s head.
The rest of us shuffled backwards towards the Cargomaster. Mr Lover Man shouted, ‘Tracy, no! No!’
Like a banshee, she zoomed past me.
Her body convulsed with sobs as she ran. ‘Take me, take me! Not my baby, please!’
I bellowed, ‘Tracy, stand still. Stand still!’
But she didn’t. Of course she didn’t.
BB threw the boy onto the flatbed with Dec and swung round to face the threat. Tracy hurled herself at him. He used her own momentum to fling her to the ground. As he climbed on board, she came back at him. He tried to kick her off but she clung on. The wagon started to move. She slipped and for a second it looked as if she was going to fall, but with a desperate lunge she managed to grab the sill of the flatbed. Her feet dragged along the tarmac.
She gripped the sill and tried to swing her legs onto the back of the wagon.
Dec handed the boy back to BB and took the M4. He moved to the edge and stamped on Tracy’s fingers.
Ant swung the wheel from side to side.
Tracy managed to hook a knee over the edge of the flatbed and held on grimly, but her grip was loosening. The force of the seesawing technical was becoming too much for her. Dec took aim with the M4 and gave her a round. Her limbs flailed as she cartwheeled into the ground.
The technical roared towards the Skyvan. BB held onto Stefan like a vice, the boy’s face into his shoulder. Dec banged on the cab roof to get Ant to drive faster, then swivelled and gave a burst with the M4 in our general direction. Everybody ducked. I kept eye-to-eye with Genghis. ‘No. We don’t want anything to hit the boy.’
He got it. He understood. At last.
Tracy lay very still. The wound in her gut glistened. She panted for breath. Supporting her neck, I lifted her gently and leant back to take the weight. Her leg dangled over my right forearm.
‘Nick … My baby … My baby …’ Every word hurt.
‘It’s OK,’ I murmured. ‘It’s all going to be OK …’
Tracy kept trying to talk.
‘Stop … It’s all right. We’ll get him back, I promise. We’ll get him back …’
Her head fell across my arm. ‘I’ve been so stupid, Nick … I’ve been so … stupid … My baby …’
Mr Lover Man helped me lift her carefully into the Cargomaster’s hold. He and Genghis ripped open the medical kit to grip her.
Awaale was at the door, hand outstretched. I grabbed it.
‘Listen, mate, good luck to your clan. We’ve got to go. But you know what? We are friends. We really are friends.’
His face creased into a huge grin. ‘Yes, of course, Mr Nick,’ he shouted in my ear as the prop revved big-time. ‘Of course, I know it. America, we meet at my father’s house.’
‘Give me your cell. I’ll get your number off it.’
He threw it up to me, then pointed down the runway. ‘Mr Nick, they’re escaping.’
The Skyvan left the tarmac and lifted over the sea.
‘No, they’re not, mate. No, they’re fucking not.’
21
I shouted to Joe as I closed the shutter, ‘Get airborne! Get up there — follow that fucking thing!’
The Cessna rumbled towards the runway. I climbed over the two front seats to retrieve my headset. I stared out into the darkness. ‘You faster?’
He was at full stretch, pressing buttons, doing pilot shit as he checked left and right of the aircraft. ‘Easy. That Skyvan is a fucking shed, man. But they’ve cut the lights. They know we’re coming. Where would they go?’
‘It’s got to be south. Kenya. Or maybe further. Anything north would be a nightmare. There’s the Arab Spring, civil war, and Yemen hates everyone. Why head into that shit? Don’t worry about it, Joe. Just get up there, start heading south, and I’ll try and find out.’