Inside the ambulance the policeman guarding the prisoner had his face pressed against the small square window. He could see the burning police cars. The ambulance crew were cowering in their seats. A wicked sound of machine gun fire came through to them as a Tunisian national guardsman was put out of his misery.
The policeman inside the ambulance backed away from the double doors at the rear of the vehicle as he heard footsteps stop outside.
“Stay as you are and you won’t get hurt,” the scarred man ordered.
Suddenly the doors were yanked open and he went for his gun. A single shot took him in the head and his brains splattered the interior.
The scarred man looked into the dead eyes.
“Stupid fool.”
The front doors were now ripped open and machine guns covered the ambulance crew as they raised their hands.
Former KGB agent Anatoly Petrov holstered his Glock 19 handgun.
“He has the handcuff keys,” the scarred man gestured towards the policeman Petrov had just killed. Petrov searched the body, found the keys and unlocked the restraints. The scarred man rubbed his wrists, the broken skin sticky with fluid. Petrov stepped down into the road and made way for the scarred man.
Count Otto Brest von Werner stepped carefully down onto the road. His private army of men saluted him.
“Welcome back sir,” the Russian spoke.
“Thank you Petrov. Any casualties?”
“No sir. My team is all accounted for. Your ship is ten miles off the coast.”
Two black hawk helicopters flew in low over the hills and landed in the road. Petrov gestured to Von Werner.
“If you’re ready sir.”
“Yes Mr Petrov. Take care of the vehicles.”
“Yes Sir. And them?” Petrov asked, nodding towards the ambulance crew. Von Werner looked at them both. They were on their knees in the road, their hands on top of their heads, guns still trained on them. They were clearly petrified. Von Werner considered killing them.
“They were only doing their job. Let them go.”
“Yes sir,” Petrov made a motion with his hand and the guns were withdrawn. The two ambulance men got to their feet, mumbled their thanks and fled into the night.
Von Werner watched as his men set explosives on the remaining jeep and the ambulance.
“There’s another prisoner here sir. Shall I let him go?”
“Why hasn’t he escaped already?” Petrov asked.
“He’s chained to the floor.”
Petrov looked at Von Werner who shrugged and headed for the first Black hawk. The prisoner began screaming and frantically pulling at his chains as the last of the men got into the helicopters and they lifted off and headed North for the Meditterranean. Von Werner looked back at the huge fireball that lit up the night sky when the vehicles exploded.
Major Al-assad surveyed the carnage on the mountain road. His special forces team were scouring the debris for clues. Of the police cars and ambulance there was nothing left. They were completely burned out. Just skeletons and ash remained. The jeeps, one on its roof, were twisted hunks of metal. In the lead one were the charred remains of a human still chained to the floor. A forensics expert examining the remains. The teeth on the corpse were completely bared.
“As quickly as you can with those results,” Al-assad said to the forensics team working on the corpse. They were scanning their samples into a laptop.
“Yes sir. Do you want DNA scans on all casualties?”
“No. Not necessary. Our man was heavily scarred on the face and hands. None of the other dead match those injuries.”
A lieutenant approached Al-assad.
“Sir we’ve got another body. This one was in the back of the ambulance.“
“The condition of the body?”
“Beyond recognition sir. He’s also been shot in the head. We did find a standard issue police handgun.”
“And the ambulance crew?”
“Unnaccounted for.”
“Is it possible they were completely incinerated?”
“Possible but unlikely. My guess is they escaped or were taken hostage.”
“Why take the ambulance crew hostage and not the policeman. He would be worth more as a ransom.”
“Because he was armed. Maybe he pulled his gun on them. That was probably the reason for killing him.”
“Maybe. Well whatever happened here we need to find the ambulance crew and where the ambulance came from. I want names, addresses. Find them.”
“Yes sir.”
A forensics expert got Al-assad’s attention. Al-assad looked at the laptop screen.
“None of the DNA samples match Von Werner.”
Al-assad looked at the neatly lined up dead. A team nearby examining bullet casings.
“How sure are you?”
“One hundred per cent.”
Al-assad’s lieutenant came running up holding a field telephone. Al-assad frowned.
“It’s the General sir.”
Al-assad reluctantly took the handheld.
“General Al-din. It’s bad news sir. We’ve lost him. You might want to tell the Americans.”
CHAPTER TWO
Peter Dennis poured himself another cocktail while trying not to spill any. He was leaning forward in the limousine to make sure he didn’t splash any of the red liquid onto his white shirt.
“Would you like one?” he asked the girl opposite.
Marine archaeologist Natalie Feltham shook her head while holding her flute up.
“No thanks. I’ve still got most of my champagne left and you’d better not have too many of those in quick succession. I don’t want you slurring your speech all night.”
“Hey that’s what Limo’s are about. Drinking in the back of them. It was good of Jim to put it on for us.”
“He wanted us to arrive in style.”
“That we’ll do. You look sensational tonight.”
“Oh thanks and I don’t usually. Is that what you mean.”
“What! Of course you do. You always do,” Dennis replied eyeing up a shapely ankle, “That dress was a good idea. It is stunning.”
Natalie was wearing a long, ankle length, sleeveless, black dress, with a long split down each thigh. The neck of the dress was gold. She was also wearing gold, strap heels. Her long blonde hair was held high on her head with pins. Two long strands of hair hung down, prettily, either side of her face.
“You don’t look so bad yourself but your bow tie is a little crooked.”
He leaned in to her.
“Straighten it for me.”
While she did he sneaked a quick kiss.
“Oi! Cheeky! You’ll smudge my make up.”
Then she laughed.
“What?”
“You’ve got my lipstick on your lips. Come here.”
She wiped it off then became serious.
“I love you.”
“Love you too,” he replied, “And I love this car. Fancy a quickie?”
“What? No! The driver might see.”
Dennis shrugged.
“And besides there’s not enough time. Kinky bugger.”
Dennis smiled.
“There’s plenty of room.”
The car turned a corner and Natalie saw the British museum ahead.
“Too late. I think we’re here,” she said as the car passed under a huge banner and stopped at the bottom of the steps. The door was opened and Natalie and Peter put their drinks down and she stepped out first, onto the red carpet and into a sea of press photographers and flash photography. Dennis stepped out and the chauffeur wished him a good evening, closed the door, got back into the driver’s seat and moved off slowly past a television camera getting ready to start shooting. In front of the camera a beautiful reporter with Asian features.