Edge of Danger

'Not really. On the other hand, when you worked South Armagh with One Para, I'll lay odds you ate pub food in every village.'

'Absolutely.' George grinned. 'Irish potatoes and bread and cabbage in season.'

'Screw you,' Costello said. 'You're making it worse.'

Bell said, 'Come on, let's go and look at the site, then we can go back to Hazar and get you an egg sandwich, Pat.'

The road ran through a defile between shallow stone outcrops, and beyond it sand dunes marched away to the horizon. The Jeep pulled in on a slope and George got out.

'That one spot there, below where the road is, is not in the open. It's the obvious place for an ambush. The Holy Wells are ten miles east.'

'Let's take a look.'

Bell led the way into the defile, followed by George and the others. It was quiet down there, the sides of the defile rising three hundred feet.

Bell said, 'We'll make it a line bomb, boys, one side of the road to the other. I'll do it up with Costello. You two can set up with a light machine gun on that ridge. Lay down covering fire. Take out anyone left.'

George said, 'Well, that looks pretty damned good to me.'

'So – we'll go back to Hazar and check on the supplies you have to offer.'

'Whatever you need, you get,' George said and led the way back to the Jeep.

Hal Stone called Dillon, Harry and Billy to the stern deck of the Sultan under the awning.

'I've been checking with my local contacts, and George Rashid, Bell and his friends flew up-country in a Three-Ten. Landed near Shabwa, stayed a couple of hours and came back.'

'And we don't know why?' Dillon said.

'I'm afraid not. I have my boys sniffing around for rumours, but nothing's come up.'

Dillon thought about it, then said, 'If we flew up to Shabwa, would it make a difference?'

'As regards finding things out? I'm not sure, and what do you mean by we?'

'Well, for starters, I can fly anything. I don't need a pilot, just a plane.'

'That's interesting. Ben Carver, who owns Carver Air Transport, has two Three-Tens and a Golden Eagle, just for local flights.'

'Fine, so hire me a plane. Harry, Billy, and I will fly to Shabwa and nose around.'

'Well, if that's what you want to do,' Stone said, 'I'll arrange it.'

At the villa, Kate Rashid was working on company papers when her mobile rang. George said, 'I've had word from a source in Hazar, Dillon and the Salters are flying up to Shabwa in one of Carver's Three-Tens. Dillon's piloting.'

'I sometimes think he has a death wish,' Kate said.

'What do we do?'

'I'm getting tired of him, brother. Shoot Dillon and his friends out of the sky.' 'A pleasure,' George Rashid said.

Later in the day, the 310 coasted toward Shabwa, Billy and Harry sitting behind Dillon, the sky a deep blue, the sand dunes, some three hundred feet high, stretching to infinity. Dillon throttled back, eased the control column, slid over an enormous dune and saw below him a column of three vehicles, all crammed with men. The next thing he knew, they were firing at him.

The windscreen and a side window shattered, and Harry cried out as a splinter sliced his right cheek. A burst of machine-gun fire cut into the port wing. Dillon hauled back, banked away, and boosted speed. The column disappeared behind them, but the engines coughed angrily, and then first the port, then the starboard engine, cut out. Silence enveloped them, broken only by the wind.

The sand dune in front was five hundred feet high. Billy said, 'Christ, Dillon, I've never seen anything like it.'

'Well, Brighton Beach it isn't, Billy. Hang on, you two.'

Dillon hauled back on the column, scraped across the ridge and drifted down to a soft sand plain below. The plane bounced a couple of times, wheels up, then ploughed to a halt. Dillon switched off.

'You two okay?'

Salter said, 'That's it. No more foreign holidays. After this, I won't even do a day trip to Calais.'

Dillon got the door open and scrambled out over the wing. Billy and his uncle followed. Harry said, 'What happens now?'

'They'll come looking,' Dillon said. 'If you want my opinion, they knew it was us, if you follow me.'

'So where does that leave us?' Billy demanded.

'Let's see.'

Dillon got his coded mobile out and started to search his pockets. 'Damn! I don't have Villiers's number with me.' He thought a moment. 'All right.' And called Ferguson in London. He got an almost instant reply. 'Charles, it's me. We're in trouble.'

After the explanation, Ferguson said, 'Don't worry, I'll get hold of Villiers. I'll give him your number. He'll handle it. He's as bad as you when he gets stuck in.'

'I'm glad to hear it.' Dillon switched off and said to the others. 'We wait.'

It was only twenty minutes later when his phone rang, and Villiers said, 'Are you all in one piece, Dillon?'

'Absolutely. Myself and the Salters. They were waiting for us.'

'Well, what could you expect? In a place the size of Hazar, they had to know you were coming.'

'So what do we do? They'll find us again before long.'

'I'm forty miles east with the Scouts. I'll leave Bronsby with half of them and come myself with the others, but I'd suggest you move. Check your GPS and let me know your whereabouts.'

'Give me a minute.' Dillon went to the plane and got the required information.

Villiers said, 'Good. Now get the hell out of there. There's an old fort not that far from you that'll be better cover than the plane. Trek northeast. We'll push hard, but they'll be close, Dillon, damn close. Take my mobile number and keep in touch. Good luck.'

Dillon turned to the Salters and told them what Villiers had said. 'Get water, food, an AK each and spare ammunition, then we're out of it.' He grinned at Harry. 'You'll be able to cancel your subscription at the gym, Harry. You'll lose a stone in two days out here.'

It was two hours later that George Rashid and ten Bedu in two Land Rovers found the 310. His chief tracker went sniffing around, came back and pointed northeast.

'That way, Effendi, they are on foot.' 'Then run them down,' George said.

The Salters and Dillon walked abreast, wearing headcloths against the intense heat. The problem was finding a way through the dunes. Dillon led, but it was heavy going in the soft sand. They came out into a level plain, and there was the oasis and the remains of a fort.

Billy said, 'Is that a mirage?'

It was Harry who called out, 'Behind you, Dillon.'

They turned and found George Rashid and the two Land Rovers appearing over a sand dune.

'Run for it,' Dillon cried. 'And I mean run. If they catch us in the open, we're finished,' and he stumbled down the hillside.

They dashed past a well, a line of palm trees, and then through what was left of the gateway in the crumbling wall. Dillon led the way up steps to the large wall, where they looked out and saw George Rashid and his ten Bedu arrive.

The Land Rovers came to a halt and the Bedu got out, with George Rashid leading. On the wall, Dillon peered through one of the openings, Billy and Harry on either side clutching their AK-47S.

Harry said, 'What are we doing here? It's like this movie I saw as a kid. Ray Milland, Gary Cooper – Beau Geste, that was it.'

'I saw that one,' Billy said. 'When the men were killed, the sergeant put them on the wall to make it look busy.'

'Well, there's only three of us,' Dillon said. 'And we'd better make it good, because these guys really do cut your balls off.'

They took positions and the Arabs spread out from the Land Rovers. Harry Salter said, 'What in the hell am I doing here, Dillon?'

'Having a good time, Harry. Trust me and you'll get back to Wapping.' He took careful aim and fired, and a Bedu went down. 'There you go. We've got plenty of ammunition. Spray the bastards.'

The Rashid retreated behind the Land Rovers and opened fire heavily on the wall. Dillon and the Salters returned fire.

'Take your time, Billy,' Dillon said. 'Single shot. Let Harry loose off, but you and I take individual targets. That's your strength.'