Will's eyes flickered towards the other three, but they did not seem to have raised an eyebrow at what Sami had said; and Sami was evidently too discreet to question Will any further.
'Ismail's English is serviceable, but not perfect,' the fixer continued, 'and he is not a physically strong man. I would advise that you do not expect him to fight or to endure extreme environments in the same way that you have become used to.'
'Sounds a fucking liability to me,' Drew complained.
'Maybe,' Will said, 'but without him we don't have an objective. He comes with us, liability or not.'
They drove on in silence.
As they hit the outskirts of the town, the roads became less treacherous as more vehicles appeared. Among the elderly and run-down civilian cars, Will saw a number of military trucks bearing the UN logo, which told of the heavy military presence in this part of the world. Normally this would make their job more secure, but for the moment, Will didn't want anyone to link them to NATO, the UN or the British or American army. What they were doing was under the radar and he wanted to keep it that way. Sami took them off the main road as soon as he could and continued their journey through a series of intricate, winding streets, not ideal for a large vehicle, but they were at least clear of the various security forces that would be barricading other entrances to the city.
The further they travelled into the centre, the more people there were. Large numbers of Afghans — some in traditional dress, others wearing more Westernised clothes — went about their daily business, shuffling up and down the snowy streets, moving quickly because of the snow. Some of them carried wicker baskets of food; others were empty-handed. No one paid any attention to their truck as it trundled past; in fact, nobody seemed to pay attention to anything.
Surprisingly frequently Will caught sight of two or three soldiers in camouflage uniform and carrying what looked to him like excessively heavy weaponry for patrolling the streets. There weren't many cars on the road and those that were had clouds of greasy diesel smoke billowing from their exhausts; they looked rickety in the extreme. Walking was clearly a far more common method of getting around, so several people walked in the road, all but ignoring the beeps from the horns of those who were trying to drive. At one point the unit stopped outside what could only be described as a shack, from which the appetising aroma of meat being grilled over hot coals wafted towards them. A customer bought a kebab, but Will noticed that the shopkeeper refused to hand it over until he had the money firmly in his hand.
Further along, they passed what looked to Will like a former administrative building. It was ramshackle now, its windows blown out and one side reduced to a pile of rubble — a monument to some violent incident in the not too distant past.
'We don't want to be dropped off too near the café, but it needs to be in sight,' he told Sami as they passed an impressive-looking mosque, its golden dome heavy with snow and people swarming outside.
'I know a suitable place,' Sami replied. 'It's not far now.'
The street where they stopped was thin but straight — Will noted with approval that they had a good line of sight at either end and they could see directly on to a bustling square. Anderson and Kennedy took their Sig 226s from the weapons cache — the slightly larger firearm was fine for them as they wouldn't be getting up close and personal with the contact, at least not yet.
'Is that the bazaar up ahead?' Will asked Sami.
The fixer nodded his head. 'The café is one of the doors you can see on the other side of the square.'
'Give us thirty minutes,' Will told Drew, tersely. 'If we haven't returned, come and get us.'
'Roger that,' Drew murmured. If he was upset at not being on the front line, he didn't show it.
'Remember,' Sami continued, 'Ismail is nervous. If you do not recite the double password exactly correctly, he will take fright and it will take weeks to regain his trust. Do not mention my name to him — he will only deny knowledge.' He turned to Drew. 'You can remember the route out?'
Drew nodded his head.
'Good,' Sami replied. 'Ismail will not want to risk being seen with me, not in public. I have to go now.' He opened the car door. 'Good luck.'
He climbed down from the car, walked nonchalantly to the end of the deserted street and disappeared around the corner. 'That's the last we'll see of him,' Anderson muttered.
'He's a good fixer,' Will said. 'He's thought of everything. OK, let's go. Remember, not too close.' He opened up the back of the truck and jumped out.
Kandahar had a certain smell to it, he noticed as he headed down the street. The smell of rotting rubbish, of food cooking, of sewers; and the blanket of snow that had fallen over the city could not hide the unpleasantness of it. As he walked, snowflakes settled on his clothes and he reached the end of the street with a light dusting already covering him. He knew that by now Anderson and Kennedy would have exited the vehicle, but he didn't look behind to check — it wasn't necessary, and he didn't want to draw attention to his trail.
To his right, he saw a large makeshift wall across the road, constructed of what looked like bags of concrete. Armed men were questioning anyone who wanted to drive through, as well as a fair number of ordinary Afghan pedestrians. Will was pleased Sami had directed them round that and he turned left to follow the rough pavement that surrounded the main square.
The square itself was lined with bombed-out buildings, but the centre, separated from the buildings by the road that was still almost empty of cars, was crowded: a huge market place was laid out and despite the relentless snow, crowds of Afghan women, some dressed in warm robes, others completely covered by the burka, gathered round talking in little groups. Stallholders stood guard over stalls that held small amounts of sorry-looking produce and the whole thing was covered by a large canopy that looked almost precarious under its heavy blanket of snow.
There was a sudden roar as a plane flew overhead. Will looked up and recognised a Harrier patrol aircraft, but nobody else, it seemed, paid it any attention. Clearly these people, inhabitants of a war-ravaged country for so long, had seen so many air patrols that they had ceased to be a curiosity.
Will gave himself a moment to get his bearings. The north side of the square, Sami had said. He glanced in that direction, over the top of the heads of the women in the bazaar; there seemed to be a crowded area on the other side, so he started walking round the edge of the square to see if that might be his place.
He had only gone a few paces, however, when his path was blocked. Two men — burly with dark rings under their eyes — blocked his way. They both carried ancient AK-47s. Neither of them was in military uniform. Just a couple of thugs, Will realised, intuitively. One of them spoke harshly to him in a language he didn't understand — Pashto, no doubt — but the tone of his voice made it clear he was demanding something.
The muscles around Will's eyes tensed up slightly and he felt his right hand brush instinctively to his waist where the Sig was concealed. The last thing he wanted now was a fight. He felt sure his contact would be looking out for him, but if there was a scene, he might be frightened off. Moreover, a gunfight would undoubtedly attract the attention of the heavily armed troops dotted around.
The man spoke again, more aggressively this time. Without looking, Will knew that Anderson and Kennedy would have their hands firmly round their gun handles now, ready to react with swift, brutal force if anything went wrong.
And it looked to Will as if that was just what was about to happen.
From behind him, he heard a familiar sound — the metallic click of a safety catch being removed. The men looked behind Will with an expression of distaste; he turned round to see two armed soldiers brandishing their weapons. One of them pointed his gun at the Afghans, then jabbed the barrel to the side to indicate that they should move on. The Afghans hesitated, but after a moment they did as they were told, walking down the street away from Will, but still casting a threatening gaze over their shoulder as they went.