‘Oh-four-thirty.’
‘I’ve been thinking… what if Twenny and Peanut aren’t there in the FARDC camp? I mean, they could have been taken out on that chopper. We might be risking our lives for nothing.’
Okay, so Ryder again proved that he could think tactically. I gave him the answer I’d given myself. ‘And what if they are still there?’
‘From up on the hill, Cassidy, West and Rutherford might have been able to see who got on board. We should wait and get some confirmation one way or the other.’
‘Rutherford will be here soon,’ I said.
‘What if something happens to him and he doesn’t make it back here?’
‘Duke, we’re never going to have enough intel to plug the holes. A FARDC patrol might stumble into us. Lissouba might wise up to who stole his toys and wait for us to make a move, or ambush us as we come in. And we’ve also got our own problems with hunger and morale. Every extra hour we spend hanging around here works against success. We have to go at the earliest opportunity. That’s in around eleven hours from now.’
Ryder nodded thoughtfully. ‘I had to ask.’ He absently tapped a full magazine on the side of one of the sandbags. There was something else on his mind.
‘I’ve never been in combat. I… I don’t want to fuck up,’ he said.
I didn’t want him to fuck up either. ‘I had you lined up to stay with Leila and Ayesha. Or had you forgotten that at least one of us has to accompany our principals at all times?’
‘What about Boink? Can’t he be the sitter tonight? And he can have Francis for company. You’re going to need all the firepower you can get when you hit that camp.’
‘Rutherford and I will handle it.’
‘Look, I want to come, sir. I’m not going chickenshit on you. I’m just scared, is all.’
I wanted to tell Ryder that the only people who weren’t scared in combat were already dead, but I didn’t think that would cheer him up at all, so I said, ‘I’m scared. Scared is natural.’
I’d seen far too many people die in battle and every single one of those deaths reminded me that bullets don’t have brains. That can work in your favor and against it. You can feel lucky and take a bullet. And you can feel with naked certainty that you’re not going to live to see the following day, and write letters for your buddy to send home on your behalf, convinced that you won’t be far behind them only zipped into a body bag. And then, before you know it, within a few hours of the last shot being fired, you can be drunk in the arms of a girl who has your money in her pocket, while the guy you gave those letters to is lying in the morgue. But one thing is a constant: once those lead doors were welded closed behind your eyes, you knew nothing, saw nothing and felt nothing. About anything. I pushed the image of Anna lying on the carpet, her eyelids heavy with death, out of my mind.
‘Do you know what it was like before you were born?’ I asked him.
‘No,’ he said. ‘Of course not.’
‘Me either… But I think that’s probably what it’s like to be dead. You don’t even know that you know less than nothing.’
Ryder stared at me, head at an angle, thinking about it. ‘Hey, that’s kinda comforting.’
‘Yeah.’ I turned and saw Leila standing behind the truck.
‘You always sneak up on people?’ I asked her.
‘I don’t sneak — I glide. Anyway, Ayesha and I, we’ve been listening to your conversation,’ she said, using a banana leaf as an umbrella substitute. Ayesha drifted in beside her, also holding a leaf over her head. ‘We’re not staying here. We’re coming with you.’
‘Oh, c’mon! No!’ I said, folding my arms tightly across my body armor. ‘It’s just too damn dangerous.’
‘Cooper, I’m not asking, I’m telling,’ Leila said. ‘You’re leaving us with no protection and you’re not supposed to do that. We know the rules.’
‘What rules?’
‘Your own stupid PSO rules. Duke told us.’
Jesus! I glanced at Ryder and he looked away. ‘I’ve got a pretty uneasy relationship with rules, Leila, or hadn’t you noticed?’
‘You’re going off again and leaving Ayesha and me with Phillip, aren’t you?’
My eyes flicked to Boink, who was nearby, keeping watch. He turned his head at the sound of his name, not real happy to hear it, and glared at Leila.
‘You stand a much better chance of seeing tomorrow if you stay here with Boink,’ I said, massaging Phil’s ego.
‘But we trust you,’ said Ayesha. ‘You do this for a living.’
‘No, actually I’m a cop,’ I said. ‘I sit on the phone all day, asking people questions. Occasionally, I might have an argument over who gets the last donut.’
‘You came with a reputation, Cooper,’ said Leila. ‘Twenny talked about you. I read the newspaper stories about you, and we’ve all seen first hand what you’re capable of doing. It’s dangerous being around you, but we think it would be more dangerous not being around you. We’re going to take our chances with you — and with Duke and the Englishman.’
‘Rutherford’s a Scot,’ I said. ‘On his father’s side.’
‘Whatever,’ she said, brushing the correction aside with a wave of her hand.
I glanced at Duke. He gave me a what-choice-do-we-really-have shrug, reminding me that Leila was an immovable object. And maybe he was right. I couldn’t think of a single instance where I’d succeeded in talking her out of something she intended doing. But what she was demanding this time was seriously nuts. A lot of hot metal would be flying around where we were going. By coming along, they posed a risk not just to themselves, but to Twenny, Peanut and everyone else in our merry band — me included.
Leila was giving me that stance, the weight-on-one-leg-and-a-hand-on-one-hip stance that announced she was going to have her way on this, no matter what. I hoped I had more success with the FARDC than I had with her.
‘You will do everything I tell you, when I tell you,’ I said.
‘Waitresses take orders,’ said Leila.
I didn’t respond, so she sighed dramatically and said, ‘Okay, I’ll do my best.’
Ayesha didn’t look nearly as sure as her boss did about what they were letting themselves in for. Smart girl.
‘Let’s give the doing-as-your-told concept a test, shall we?’ I said. ‘Go get some sleep.’
‘I’m not tired.’
‘I don’t call that doing your best.’
Leila shook her head, took Ayesha by the arm, and they disappeared from view, heading for the sleeper.
I heard a faint whistle.
‘Who’s that, yo?’ Boink whispered, talking into the plant life.
‘Rutherford,’ came the reply. The SAS sergeant materialized out of the shadows behind the big man, who jumped about a foot when he sensed the presence behind him and glanced over his shoulder.
‘You nearly give me a heart attack, man,’ he said, a hand to his chest.
‘Sorry, sunshine,’ Rutherford said. ‘Where’s the skipper?’
‘Over here,’ I whispered, standing on the back of the truck.
He trotted over and bounded up beside me.
‘Any problems?’ I asked him.
‘FARDC’s sticking to the roads, acting spooked, like the kid told us. They know something’s up. How’re we doing here?’
‘Ready as we’ll ever be.’ I didn’t give him the news about Leila and Ayesha.
Rutherford went to the fortifcations and looked them over. ‘Good job. You test it?’
‘It’ll work. We’re calling it the Alamo.’
‘You lost that one, didn’t you?’
‘Keep that to yourself,’ I said.
Rutherford noted the magazines stacked high on the floor. ‘Someone’s nervous?’
‘I’ve had four craps in the last half hour,’ I said, ‘but I put that down to a bad banana.’