Lopez frowned as she looked at the list of names Jarvis had supplied them with. ‘He brought casualties here himself?’
Darwish nodded. ‘We knew that they were probably militant fighters, injured during skirmishes with the British soldiers based here, but we needed the money that Hazim had access to. It was an unspoken agreement — medicines in return for treating injured militants.’
‘Where is this Hazim now?’ Ethan asked.
‘He still works here,’ Darwish replied. ‘He’s on the wards right now.’
Ethan stood without another word and looked at Darwish expectantly. The doctor took the hint and opened his office door and they walked out together. They were halfway down the hall when Darwish gestured toward one of the wards ahead and a young doctor standing over a patient’s bed.
‘There he is,’ he said, and called out; ‘Abu?’
Ethan saw a short, stocky doctor look at them through square lensed glasses, his eyes fly wide as he looked at Ethan and Lopez and then he whirled and dashed away down the hall.
Ethan broke into a sprint in pursuit of Abu, Lopez alongside him in an instant. They thundered down the corridor as Abu crashed through swinging doors ahead of them and turned left.
‘He’s heading for the exits,’ Lopez called as she shouldered through the door just ahead of Ethan.
Ethan turned the corner in the corridor, saw the sign on the wall directing them toward the exits and Abu fleeing ahead of them. Nurses leaped out of Abu’s way as he flew past them and then they saw Ethan and Lopez in pursuit. Two trolleys and a cloud of medical swab packs flew into their path as the hospital staff, fearing for their colleague’s safety, hurled obstructions out in front of Lopez.
Ethan saw her vault lithely over the trolleys, barely breaking her step as he plunged into them and smashed them aside. The metal trolleys clattered noisily down the corridor as Abu smashed through the exit doors and outside into the bright sunlight.
Lopez shot through the doors just ahead of Ethan, who crashed through them into the brilliant sunlight of a courtyard just as a deafening crescendo of machine gun fire shattered the air around him. Ethan hurled himself to the left as fear pulsed through his heart, bullets impacting the walls behind him as he saw Lopez throw herself down behind a crumbling wall.
Ethan hit the ground and rolled sideways as bullets showered him with dust and mortar chips and he curled up in a narrow recess. He peeked around the edge and saw Abu Hazim vanish down an alley opposite the courtyard, his footfalls echoing away into the distance.
Ethan peered up and saw a gunman on the roof of a building across from the hospital, his silhouette clear against the bright sky as he fired a last burst and then vanished from sight.
‘Clear!’
Ethan leaped out and sprinted toward the alley alongside Lopez.
XIX
Ethan sprinted out onto the street and turned left as he saw Hazim dash across to where a dusty looking sedan was parked alongside the sidewalk. The doctor scrambled into the vehicle and started the engine, which coughed a cloud of dirty black smoke before it took off to the east.
Ethan dashed across the street and saw a battered looking motorcycle leaning against a wall. He couldn’t tell if the bike was parked or abandoned, but he rushed up to it and grabbed the handlebars as he climbed onto the saddle and saw an aged old key lodged in the ignition.
‘Not motorbikes again?’ Lopez uttered as she leaped onto the pillion seat.
Ethan reached down and opened the fuel valve, then flipped out the kick — starter and stamped down on it. To his delight and surprise the engine spluttered into life and the motorbike rattled and clattered as he stomped it into gear and accelerated out into the street. A crowd of Iraqi’s shouted curses at him as they sprinted in pursuit of the stolen motorcycle, but their protests were drowned out by the hot wind and the clattering engine.
Hazim’s vehicle had vanished around a corner and left a plume of desert dust behind it, and Ethan turned the bike gingerly in pursuit, unsure of whether the ancient old machine’s tires could take the strain. The engine growled and complained until Ethan straightened up again and accelerated once more.
Rows of palm trees flashed by either side of them, market stalls and donkeys lining the road as Ethan weaved past a battered old van chugging down the street.
‘Where’s he running to?’ Lopez shouted above the hot wind.
‘The southern quarter!’ Ethan yelled back. ‘It’s where the insurgency is the strongest. They’re likely protecting him. If we don’t get to him before then, we’ll both disappear!’
‘Great!’
Hazim turned right onto a main through fare known as Trading Street, a double lane highway heading south east through the city and packed with dense traffic. Ethan followed and began gaining quickly on the dusty sedan as it was held up by the flow of trucks and other trade vehicles.
Ethan twisted the throttle and the motorbike coughed and accelerated between two heavy goods trucks rumbling along the broad road, their engines deafeningly loud as he soared between them and got a better look at Hazim’s sedan. It had once been white but was now a dirty rust — color, missing its rear fender and its windows smudged with grime.
Ethan allowed the motorbike to drift to the left as he pulled alongside the vehicle and looked into Abu Hazim’s eyes. In an instant he saw two things there: genuine fear and the muzzle of a pistol aimed at him. Ethan squeezed hard on the ancient drum brakes and the motorbike jerked as though he had dropped an anchor into the asphalt beneath them.
The gunshot shattered Hazim’s window and Ethan felt the shockwave as it rocketed by inches in front of his head. Lopez slammed into him from behind, caught out by the sudden braking manoeuvre as Ethan struggled to maintain control. The motorbike weaved to the right and he heard a horn blare from directly behind him. Ethan looked over his shoulder and saw one of the huge trucks looming close on their tail.
‘He’s bigger than us!’ Lopez snapped.
Ethan accelerated clear of the truck as a huge, open plan junction with no warning lights or traffic control loomed ahead, ranks of vehicles warring for priority as they swarmed in a chaotic jumble across the junction.
‘Perfect!’ Lopez shouted. ‘Now what?’
Ethan looked ahead and saw Hazim at the wheel of his vehicle, looking left and right as he approached the junction. But he was looking more right than left, toward the busy southern districts.
‘He’ll go right,’ Ethan shouted. ‘He wants to head south! Hang on!’
The junction was packed with vehicles honking their horns and vying for a passage as Ethan braked and allowed the two heavy goods vehicles to thunder past and conceal his path. He hauled the motorbike hard to the right and mounted a ramp onto the sidewalk as he took the right turn and then braked to a halt.
‘Stay on us!’ Ethan said as he jumped out of the saddle.
Lopez slid into the seat he had vacated as Ethan dashed out amid the traffic, ducking low as he sought out Hazim’s battered sedan among the many similar vehicles jostling for position on the busy road. Drivers hollered at him in Arabic as he dashed between the vehicles, and then he saw Hazim’s car appear as it swung in a hard right turn toward him on the opposite side of the road, held up behind rows of other vehicles all heading south.
Ethan stayed low as he reached the edge of the left hand lane, and then as Hazim’s car approached he leaped out and sprinted toward it. Hazim saw him in an instant and swerved aside as Ethan hurled himself up onto the hood and tumbled onto the roof. Ethan grabbed hold of the edges in a grim bid to hang on as the vehicle’s acceleration swung him around, and he looked down through an open sunroof to see Hazim’s terrified eyes stare up at him even as he aimed the pistol up at Ethan.