She waited for another word, but none came.
Ziff’s head rolled lifelessly against Eddie’s chest. ‘Oh, God,’ she said, tears rolling down her cheeks. ‘David…’
Eddie reluctantly halted and gently lowered the old man to the ground. Above, Lydia made a sound of despair. The Yorkshireman closed Ziff’s eyes, then glared at Rivero, who had reclaimed the Sony and, despite his stricken expression, was filming the scene. ‘Turn that fucking camera off.’
‘Eddie, it’s okay. He’s just… doing his job.’ Nina had to force the words past the lump in her throat. ‘We still need to get out of here.’
‘You can’t just leave him!’ Lydia wailed as the couple stood.
Eddie gestured at the cliff. ‘That’ll come down any minute. If we don’t get to the boats, we’ll be buried with him.’
‘He’s right,’ said Paris. ‘Come on.’ He led the way uphill.
The others followed with varying degrees of reluctance. Nina’s was the greatest of all, standing over Ziff until Eddie drew her away. ‘Come on, love,’ he whispered.
‘Those bastards,’ she snarled. ‘Psycho bastards…’
They ascended the steep slope. ‘Hopefully they’re all dead now, so we won’t have to worry—’
Everyone reacted with alarm at a shout from ahead. It was not the frenzied howling of the Insekt Posse, though, but a familiar voice. ‘Paris! Eddie! Are you there?’
‘Fortune?’ Eddie exclaimed, surprised. He quickened his pace up the slope, pushing through the thickening undergrowth. ‘Where are you?’
‘Up here!’ The group broke through the bushes to find themselves part-way up the path to Zhakana. Fortune, brushing dust off his clothes, hurried down it. ‘You are okay?’
The delighted Paris was first to greet him. ‘Mon ami! I thought you were dead!’ said the scruffy mercenary.
‘How the fuck did you get here?’ Eddie added, shaking his friend’s hand.
Fortune shrugged as if the answer was self-evident. ‘I followed the tunnel. It came out on the cliff on the far side of the palace.’
The Yorkshireman sighed. ‘You really are the luckiest bugger on earth.’
Lydia shot Nina a venomous glare. ‘You mean — we went the wrong way? You took us the wrong bloody way? Steven died back there! He died because of you!’
‘All right, that’s fucking enough!’ Eddie shouted. She flinched back. ‘We don’t have time for this. We’ve got to get to the boats.’
Howie nodded. ‘Yeah, come on. The river’s not far.’ He jogged down the path, the laptop under one arm.
‘Lydia, I’m sorry,’ said Nina as the rest of the group followed him. ‘But I made the choice based on the information I had.’
‘I would also have gone the way you did,’ Fortune added. ‘Nina did nothing wrong.’
‘Yeah, well, tell that to his family,’ the other woman snapped, wiping away an angry tear.
The words stung Nina, but she had no time to reply. More shouts came from behind — though these were anything but friendly. ‘Oh, shit,’ said Rivero, nervously looking back. ‘Some of them got out!’
Eddie drew alongside Nina. ‘You’ve still got Mukobo’s gun?’
‘Yeah.’ She handed him the gold-plated revolver. ‘I don’t know how many bullets it’s got, though.’
‘Not enough even if it’s fully loaded, by the sound of it.’ There were definitely more than six surviving militia.
Howie paused beside a tree, the laptop clutched to his chest. ‘I can see the boats!’ he shouted excitedly, turning to face his companions. ‘We can—’
A gunshot cracked through the jungle — and a hole burst open in the computer’s casing.
The young man twitched, eyes wide in shock. A thin line of blood dribbled out through the cracked aluminium… and he slumped to his knees before toppling dead into the undergrowth.
26
‘Get down!’ Eddie shouted, pushing Nina back as he used the trees for cover to scurry to Howie’s position. He peered around one to see the young American sprawled on the ground, blood oozing from an exit wound over his heart. Shot in the back — but by whom?
A second shot thudded into the tree just above him. Eddie jerked back, but the sound had revealed the shooter’s position—
Brice!
The MI6 officer had beaten them to the river. He was untying one of the militia’s clustered craft. Two more shots at Eddie to pin him down, then the mooring line came free. He jumped aboard.
Eddie sent a round back at him. Brice rolled behind the boat’s cargo, the bullet striking it with a flat smack of lead on lead.
The Yorkshireman instantly recognised it: the Shamir’s container. The ancient weapon was now in the hands of the British spy.
The outboard roared. The boat surged away, Brice staying low as he swung it into the river. Eddie fired again, aiming for the engine, but only blew a piece of fibreglass from its casing. ‘Shit!’ he barked, racing down the slope after him.
But by the time he reached the bottom, Brice was out of range, the boat kicking up a frothing white wake as he threw it into the bend around the promontory. Eddie opened the revolver’s cylinder. Only one unused round remained. ‘Buggeration and fuckery!’
‘Eddie!’ Nina cried as the others hurried down the slope. ‘Are you okay?’
‘Yeah, I’m fine. But Howie’s dead. And Brice shot the fucking laptop!’
‘For God’s sake!’ said Lydia. ‘Who cares about the laptop?’
‘It had Howie’s drone footage on it,’ Nina told her. ‘We filmed Brice confessing to supplying Mukobo with weapons, that he was behind the civil war!’
‘But Mukobo’s dead,’ said Rivero. ‘Without him, the civil war’s pretty much over, right?’
‘Tell that to those arseholes up there,’ Eddie countered, gesturing back towards Zhakana. The Insekt Posse would certainly have heard the exchange of gunfire.
‘Fortune!’ Nina shouted. ‘Get the laptop!’ The tall Congolese gave her a questioning look, but collected the computer from beside Howie all the same.
One of the expedition’s boats was penned in by the Insekt Posse’s moored craft, but the other seemed to have been left alone. ‘What good’ll that do?’ Eddie said as he untied their free vessel. ‘The bullet went right through it. It’ll be fucked!’
‘The laptop might be — but the hard drive could be okay.’ Nina came to help him. ‘If it’s not damaged, we’ll be able to get the recording off of it. We’ll still have the proof!’
Rivero and Paris went to one of the militia’s vessels and quickly unmoored it as Lydia climbed aboard. ‘That’s if we live to show it to anyone,’ said the American.
Fortune headed for Nina and Eddie’s boat, but the Yorkshireman waved him away. ‘Drive the other one! After what happened in Burundi, I know you can handle a boat.’
‘Better than you, my friend,’ the Congolese replied with a small smile.
‘What does that mean?’ Nina asked as Fortune hopped into the second craft and started the engine.
Eddie grimaced at the reminder as he freed the rope. ‘Nothing. Just a small… explosion.’
‘What?’
They both boarded, Eddie going to the motor. ‘Dunno why you’re worried. You’ve been with me in boats loads of times.’
‘Yeah, and how many of them blew up?’
‘Not even half! Probably…’ He yanked the starter cord. The engine rasped to life.
The other boat was already moving, but rather than swing away from the bank, Fortune drew alongside. ‘Eddie! You may need this.’
Paris held up an empty Kalashnikov; the militia had brought spare weaponry. ‘Thanks!’ said the Yorkshireman, shoving the revolver back into his jacket as the mercenary threw the rifle to him. ‘Any ammo?’