The Judas gate

'The next thing you'll be saying is: that's men for you. Just a little closer, if you will.' She did as he asked, and everything happened in a hurry.

'There they are, two small orange inflatables in a waterway. Two men to each boat. I can't see who it is because they're wearing jungle kit and their faces are black, but here goes.'

He took deliberate aim and fired twice, saw his target fall into the water. 'Did you get him?' Fatima called up.

'Oh, yes.' Talbot smiled in triumph and, for a moment, forgot to keep low. Sean Dillon, with an uncertain glimpse of the Tuareg who was Shamrock, took a snap shot. It drilled Talbot's left side, and he staggered back awkwardly, dropping the AK and sliding down the ladder.

Fatima was on her knees. 'Merciful Allah, how bad is it?'

'Well, I wouldn't know, would I?' He managed a smile. 'You'll have to take a look. I've got a medical kit in my rucksack. You must find the morphine. When you're first shot, the shock kills the pain, but not for long.'

The engines of the approaching launches sounded louder now. 'They're coming fast,' Fatima said.

'Yes, well, let's keep our heads down and stay out of it. Just let them get on with it. If you look in my rucksack, you'll find half a bottle of Cognac, too. Get me that first.' Holley had dragged Hakim out of the water, and the Colonel lay there groaning, soaked to the skin, blood oozing through. He was obviously in a very bad way. Holley had been aware of the return shot and called out. 'Dillon, Miller, where are you?'

There was no reply, so he took out a spring knife and cut open Hakim's tunic. He knew just how bad it was straight away, and Hakim moaned, 'I'm going to die, Daniel.'

'Shut up and lie still,' Holley said. 'This isn't exactly the best place for medical treatment.' He took two morphine ampoules from his bag because he figured one wouldn't be enough, jabbed them in, tore open a pack containing a wound dressing, and applied it.

Hakim shook his head. 'A waste of time. This is Allah's punishment on me for my betrayal of you and Malik, the most shameful thing I have ever done in my life.'

'Don't worry about it,' Holley told him. 'I understand. Osama, Al Qaeda and the Preacher really had you in their clutches.'

Hakim clutched at Holley. 'But at least I can make amends before I go.'

'And how would you do that?'

'To others, the Preacher is just a voice on the phone, but not to me. I gave the special mobile he supplied to an electronic genius. He managed to break into the system.'

'And who is the Preacher?' Holley said, suppressing his excitement.

'He's a British-born Muslim named Hassan Shah. He lives in Bell Street, West Hampstead, I've checked. He's investigated war crimes for the British Government and is a Professor in International Law at the London School of Economics.'

'Good God almighty,' Holley said. 'We've got the bastard.'

'Yes, I believe you have.' Hakim's hand tightened on Holley's jacket, he convulsed, and his head fell to one side.

Holley sat there looking at him for a moment, wondering about his next move, but he was not given a choice. Small waves rippled though the reeds as the speed of whichever boat was approaching increased, and then the boat's heavy machine gun sprayed recklessly through the reeds and there was coarse laughter.

The inflatable rocked violently as the launch passed, and Holley took a fragmentation grenade from his bag and lobbed it over blindly. There were cries of dismay, followed by a violent explosion. He eased out into the channel and saw the Evening Star well alight. Two men with their uniforms on fire jumped into the water. Holley took another grenade out and lobbed it after the others, which seemed to finish the boat and the entire crew.

But there was still the Fortuna somewhere out there; Holley could hear the engines and the sound of its heavy machine gun firing into the reeds at random. He called Dillon on his Codex.

'What's your situation?' Dillon demanded.

'Hakim was hit by a sniper. Never saw who, but he's dead.'

'The sniper was Shamrock in his Tuareg get-up. I fired back and he definitely went down.'

'I got the Evening Star with two grenades and watched them die. Where are you?'

'Not far away at all. We'll move closer to the boat and find you.'

'Well, one other thing I must tell you, in case I get knocked off myself. It turns out that Hakim knew the name and address of the Preacher.'

'Jesus, Mary and Joseph,' Dillon said. 'Tell me.' Which Holley did, and Dillon said angrily: 'The bastard. I can just see him now, standing in the dock at the Old Bailey claiming his human rights.'

There was another burst of obviously haphazard machine gun fire not too far away. 'So what are we going to do?' Holley asked.

'Do you still have Hakim's body?'

'Sure I do. I didn't know what to do.'

'We're only yards away from the Evening Star and it's burning nicely. Start calling out and we'll call out, too, and see if we can get together before the Fortuna turns up. If Nadim's still on it, he won't be pleased.'

A hundred yards or so away, the machine gun fired again, so Holley started up, shouting, and could immediately hear Dillon and Miller calling. In a few minutes, they connected.

'Now what?' Holley asked.

'Hakim did us nothing but harm in life,' Dillon said, 'but I've got a use for him in death. Don't waste time, because the Fortuna's coming up fast. We'll dump your inflatable next to what's left of the Evening Star with Hakim sitting up in it, the perfect ambush.' Nadim was at the wheelhouse of the Fortuna as it broke out into the channel and saw the smoke and what was left of the Evening Star still burning. His men cried out angrily as bodies floated by, and then Nadim saw the inflatable and Hakim propped up in it. There were cries of rage from the men.

Nadim cut the engine and came out. 'Get the pole and hook him in.'

Three men started to do that. There were only the marsh sounds in the rain, smoke drifting, the fire crackling as they lifted Hakim up on to the deck.

Nadim had never known such rage. 'Dillon,' he roared out in Arabic, 'I will cut you to pieces, and feed you to the fishes when I find you.'

'Over here,' a voice responded in Arabic.

The grenades bounced on deck, two at the same time, then a third that rolled against Hakim. It was the last thing Nadim saw on this earth. Somewhere nearby in the rain, there was the sound of a plane taking off, but in the mist there was little to see.

'Are you thinking what I'm thinking?' Holley asked Miller and Dillon.

'I definitely shot the Tuareg,' Dillon said.

'Well, let's do the sensible thing and go see your friend Omar Hamza,' Miller said to Holley.

As they emerged at the side of the lagoon, they saw the sport fisherman, with Fatima at the wheel, moving towards the trading post. Holley checked through his binoculars. 'Hamza's sitting beside a Browning machine gun,' he said, and called loudly across the water. 'It's Daniel, let's talk.'

Fatima got out of the sport fisherman and tied up and turned to look at them all. Hamza shouted, 'Okay, come over.' He was drinking beer and sitting there beside his machine gun when they arrived. Fatima leaned in the doorway, arms folded, watching them closely.

Hamza said, 'So you've been killing again, Holley? How many?'

'All of them except for Ali Hakim. Shamrock shot him twice.'

'So he's dead?'

'He lived long enough to tell me a few interesting things. Was that Shamrock flying away?' 'So it would appear,' Hamza said.

'I thought I'd shot him,' Dillon said. 'He shot Hakim.'

Fatima nodded. 'So you did. You hit him in the left side and the bullet came out through his back.'

'And you patched him up?' Dillon asked.

'He had a military kit. He told me what to do. I gave him morphine.'

'And then took him to his plane?'

'Yes, his friend was waiting.'

'What kind of plane was it?' Miller asked.