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Helga nodded, still struggling with what she was hearing. ‘How do you know all this?’

‘Interpol and the intelligence services of several countries have been working on the infiltration of organised crime into global aid agencies; my partner, Steven, has been investigating what some of them have been up to. He told me about this last night. Tonight, I’m going to ask him to get us out of here as fast as he can, the authorities are taking far too long and I’m not sure why. Officially, Marcus was arranging it, but it looks like he had other things on his mind and if it now falls to Hans to make arrangements... well, that makes me uneasy. I take it you would like me to include you?’

Helga nodded. ‘Thank you, I think that would be for the best.’

‘Can you burn these things while I go over and see Monique, the girl I told you about? I’m going to give her the chance to come with us. When I come back, I’ll phone Steven.’

‘Of course.’

Tally looked at the dish. ‘Make sure they don’t splutter.’

Tally returned an hour later; Monique was with her. Tally had told her what was going on and she hadn’t taken too much convincing to agree to what was being proposed. Tally left Helga and Monique to introduce themselves while she phoned Steven. He didn’t answer, something Tally made light of, saying she’d try again in a short while. ‘Food,’ she exclaimed, ‘don’t know what I’ve got for a girls’ night in. Help me look.’

The three of them started searching through cupboards, collecting bits and pieces for a meal — Tally was deliberately using this in an attempt to relax the atmosphere. Hearing Helga and Monique laughing and apparently getting on suggested her plan might be working. She slipped away to try phoning Steven again. There was still no reply. Feeling slightly more uneasy this time, she decided to leave trying again until after they had eaten.

Tally finished her cupboard rummage and stood up triumphantly with a bottle of white wine in her hand — it had been left over from her get-together to celebrate the end of the outbreak in Equateur. ‘Specially warmed for the occasion,’ she joked.

They ate and drank, complementing each other on what they’d managed to do with what they’d come up with, but, as the conversation began to falter and minds returned to other things, Helga asked, ‘Why are they doing this?’

‘I don’t know,’ Tally confessed. ‘Steven had worked out what they were doing but not why when I spoke to him last night.’

‘It’s crazy,’ said Monique.

‘I’ll try him again,’ said Tally, draining her glass. ‘Is there anything you have to back to your village for?’ she asked Monique.

‘Nothing,’ replied Monique sadly.

‘Good.’

Tally went through to the one other room to try calling Steven again. This time he answered and she felt a flood of relief wash through her. ‘Thank God,’ she exclaimed, ‘Where have you been?’

‘Receiving the thanks of the PM and several intelligence agencies as it happens...’ said Steven.

‘You cracked it?’

Steven explained briefly what the Russian cabal had been up to, but sensed that something was wrong.

‘Well done,’ said Tally.

‘Why did you sound so relieved to hear from me?’ Steven asked.

‘I think we may be in danger,’ said Tally.

‘What!’ exclaimed Steven. ‘Who’s we? What’s wrong?’

‘Helga, one of the other area managers and Monique, the girl you already know about, they’re here with me right now. I don’t think we’re in immediate danger, but I suspect, Hans Weber, Altman’s assistant might be on to our suspicions and there’s no move being made to get us out of here. Can you help?’

‘After today, I think I could ask the PM for the moon and get it. I’m going to get John to get on to the Home Secretary and the PM right now. Can you give me your exact co-ordinates?’

Tally read them out from her phone.

‘Ring me back in an hour.’

Steven rang off and Tally returned to her guests. ‘Steven’s arranging something, I’ve to call back in an hour.’

‘You don’t think Hans might suspect?’ asked Helga.

‘Let’s hope not,’ said Tally. ‘I mean we’re not absolutely sure he’s a baddie... we just don’t like him and he doesn’t like us.’

‘True,’ Helga agreed, ‘but if he is, he’ll know I’m here with you if he’s been following us on the trackers — if they were trackers. This would be our last location before the signals were lost.’

‘Mm,’ said Tally, ‘happily, he doesn’t know Monique is here. If he did, that might really have set him thinking.’

Tally wasn’t sure if Helga was convinced. ‘Let’s see about sleeping arrangements,’ she said, ‘we’ll draw lots for the bed.’

This made the others laugh. Monique won the bed.

Steven checked her watch and phoned Steven.

‘I won’t burden you with details; all you need know is that a helicopter will pick the three of you up in the morning at 6 a.m. local time at the co-ordinates you gave me.’

‘Love you.’

‘Love you too.’

Tally told the others and everyone felt relieved. ‘We should try to get some sleep,’ she suggested.

Sleep came first to Monique and then to Helga while Tally lay awake, listening to sounds of the African night, wondering if she would miss them and deciding not. After a few minutes there came a sound she was not prepared for... it suggested that the hut door was being pushed open slowly and carefully. She and Helga were sleeping on the floor; both were facing the door, which Tally could now see really was opening. The growing view of the night sky however, was gradually blocked out by a seemingly enormous silhouette.

Tally got over the fear that was clutching at her stomach and threatening to paralyse her. ‘Who the hell are you?’ she demanded as she rolled over and got to her feet, fumbling for her battery lamp without taking her eyes off the advancing spectre. The meagre beam illuminated a tall, ghostly figure just as Helga woke and screamed out in terror.

It wasn’t a ghost, Tally realised in the dim light; it was a figure wearing the full safety gear for dealing with Ebola patients. It didn’t speak but held out what appeared to be a TV remote in its gloved hand: it pointed and clicked, first at Tally and then at Helga.

Tally edged sideways towards Helga, pushing her along slightly so that the figure was between them and the door of the room where Monique was sleeping... but Monique wasn’t sleeping. She appeared silently behind the figure and Tally saw that she was carrying their empty wine bottle from earlier. She winced as Monique swung it round in a long arc before making contact with the back of the figure’s head with venomous force, causing it to crumple silently to the floor.

Helga did her best to comfort Monique who, filled with anguish at what she’d done, dropped the bottle and burst into tears while Tally knelt down cautiously beside the collapsed figure to pull away its visor and mask: it was Hans Weber. She stared at him for a few moments before feeling for a carotid pulse and finding none.

‘Good night, sweet Hans,’ she said coldly before getting to her feet. ‘May wings of angels speed thee... to the deepest pit of hell.’

None of the three was sure what to say for fully half a minute before Helga asked, ‘What’s this?’ She detached herself from Monique before picking up the ‘remote’ Weber had been carrying.