Ahmed acted without hesitation. The laser sight illuminated its target and a single head shot was all it took to put the man to the floor.
On the other side of the room was the second man. He too seemed only to have the vaguest sense in the darkness of where Ahmed was. The second shot from the MP5 hit him in the shoulder and threw him against the wall; the third was more accurate and finished him off.
By the time Faisal Ahmed hit the floor, both of Latifa's guards lay dead.
He had to move quickly. The third man would have been alerted to his presence by the sound of gunfire and even now would be hurtling up the stairs.
'Faisal?' he heard Latifa say. Her voice was terrified.
'Did they hurt you?' he asked in their native Pashto.
'No,' she replied. 'But I cannot walk easily.'
Still holding the rope, Ahmed strode over to her and, with one swift movement, grabbed her around the waist and slung her over his shoulders.
As he did so, there was a banging on the door. 'Drew!' a voice called. 'Kennedy! Unlock it! Let me in!'
Calmly, Ahmed aimed his MP5 at the door. The weapon was powerful enough to burst through the wood and take out his final enemy.
'No!' Latifa hissed. 'Do not shoot him.'
'What do you mean?'
'I owe that man my life, Faisal. Do not shoot him.'
Faisal Ahmed had never been able to deny his sister; against his better judgement he hurried to the window. A burst of fire from the MP5 shattered the panes and a swipe of his arm cleared the fragmented glass from the edges. There was a sound of heavy gunshots from behind him as the man on the other side of the door started to shoot it through — it made Latifa gasp, but Faisal Ahmed remained coldly calm. There was plenty of rope left and they'd be out of here in seconds. He heaved himself and his sister through the window, then ignored the feel of the rope burning into his free hand as the two of them slid down to the ground.
There was nothing he could do to make the rope useless to his pursuer and he momentarily cursed himself for honouring his sister's request. But it was too late now. All he could do was run.
Will crashed through the door, a sick feeling running through every part of his body. The moment he was in the room he flashed the torch all around. The light fell first on Kennedy's body: the SAS man's face was an unrecognisable mess of blood and bone. 'Jesus,' Will whispered, before hunting out Drew. The third of their little unit was slumped half against the wall and even in the semi-darkness Will could see his blood still gushing from his gaping head wound.
And Latifa was nowhere to be seen.
As he stood there, his mind clamouring with shocked alarm, he became aware of the hole in the ceiling and the rope trailing from the joists and out of the window. How long had Faisal Ahmed been up there? he wondered. And then it all became clear to him, how he had fooled them. He must have been waiting for his moment for at least twenty-four hours.
The shame of being outwitted and the anger at losing Drew and Kennedy spurred him into action. Ahmed had Latifa. He couldn't move quickly with her, so Will could still make chase. Running to the window, he grabbed the rope and slipped down to the ground, then stopped to listen. Sure enough, there was a rustling up ahead, eastwards, in the forest. UMP in hand, he followed the noise.
Seconds later he was beyond the boundary of the house and standing on the path that led away from it. He heard footsteps in the distance — it sounded like someone running, and Will didn't have the impression that they were crashing through foliage. Ahmed was taking the easy escape route — he had to, if he was carrying Latifa.
Will started to run up the path. The ground was soft and yet strangely knobbly and treacherous, thanks to the granitelike pebbles that were strewn all over the place. As Will ran, he shone the torch to the left and right, keeping an eye out for any areas where it looked as though Ahmed may have veered away from the path; then he realised he was making a target of himself, a target that no one could miss. He switched off the torch and continued in the darkness.
He moved with caution, but the nature of the terrain was such that Ahmed could have been hidden behind any of the trees that lined his route. Something told him — intuition — that he wasn't. It would have been the easiest thing in the world for the bastard to wait in the room and nail Will when he crashed through the door. But he hadn't. Will didn't know why, but he gambled that if he wasn't prepared to stop and shoot him then, he wouldn't be now. Still, he trod lightly. Every now and then he would stop and hold his breath so that the sound did not interfere with his hearing. Each time he did, he heard the steps up ahead. Was it his imagination or were they getting closer? Was he gaining on him? Will gripped his weapon a little harder and continued pushing uphill.
Suddenly he stopped.
It caught him in the eye first, the little red light. Momentarily it disappeared, but then he looked down and saw it on his chest. He knew what it meant, of course — that someone had their laser sight firmly fixed on him. And it was perfectly obvious who that someone was.
'You have ten seconds,' a voice called from somewhere in the darkness beyond, 'to discharge your weapon into the ground and throw it into the trees. Any longer and I'll shoot.'
Will hesitated. For a moment he considered a random burst of fire from the UMP, but he dismissed the notion almost as soon as it came into his head. Ahmed had already nailed Drew and Kennedy; the fact that Will was alive was a miracle.
As if in response to that thought, the voice spoke again. 'My sister asked me not to kill you,' it stated, flatly. 'That's the only reason you're still alive. But you will be dead in three seconds' time if you do not do as I say.'
Will scowled, but he knew there was no option. He lowered his weapon and discharged it fully into the ground. Then he hurled it to one side into the woods.
'Put your hands behind your back,' the voice called.
Will did as he was told.
'If I see your hands or you make any sudden move, then I shoot. Do you understand?'
Will stared straight ahead, but then became aware of the little red dot moving up to his face. 'Do you understand?'
'I understand,' he said, flatly.
There was a pause. Everything around seemed still and Will began to wonder if Ahmed had silently continued his escape. Maybe he should give chase.
But then, slowly, a figure emerged out of the darkness.
Faisal Ahmed looked different from the picture Will had seen in Lowther Pankhurst's office. Even in the midnight gloom the dark rings under his eyes were visible and his beard was less well groomed. But it was unmistakably him and Will couldn't help but stare and scowl.
When Ahmed was only a few metres away, he stopped; but he kept his gun trained on Will. 'My sister tells me you saved her life,' Ahmed said, softly. His voice was almost gentle and, unlike Latifa, he had no hint of an accent. 'For that, I thank you.'
Will's eyes narrowed. 'You just killed two of my men,' he retorted. 'Forgive me if I don't come over and shake your hand.'
'I would not recommend doing anything with your hands,' Ahmed reminded him. 'I meant what I said. As for your men, they were, presumably, instructed to shoot me on sight?'
Will felt his cheek twitch momentarily.
'I thought so,' Ahmed said, almost pensively. 'They were soldiers too. I am sorry for their deaths, but if it wasn't them it would have been me. I'm sure they would understand.'
'I wouldn't bet on it, Ahmed,' Will said with distaste. 'They weren't the ones planning to kill thousands of people.'