“What did you do?” she asked.
“I went out with them on a few nights. Only as an observer though. I want you to know and understand that. I didn’t have any weapons nor did I engage in anything other than report their story. We didn’t use cameras. I was only permitted to use a Dictaphone.”
“Did you take Kim whatshername with you?”
“No. It was too dangerous for her. Just me and my cameraman Greg. We went out onto the beach here at Rafah. I should explain that the entire beach area here though used by Palestinians for leisure is also a no go area. Israel has a blockade on the entire coast. Khalil’s group took me out on more than one occasion and they set booby traps on the beaches for any unsuspecting Israeli marines that come ashore. On some nights if they weren’t triggered we would go out and reset them elsewhere.”
Hutchinson was horrified.
“Did they kill anyone?”
“Not in the time I was there. I went out with them every night for a week.”
“Doesn’t that make you a terrorist as well?” Hutchinson asked.
“In the eyes of Israel maybe, or maybe our own governments, but at the end of the day I’m a journalist and I will do what is needed to get my story out.”
“I suppose so,” the American said.
Natalie just smiled at Dennis. She had gotten to understand with him that the story always came fist. No matter the risks.
“Come on,” Dennis said, “Let’s see if either of you can shoot a gun.”
Khalil Al Massri led them to an area away from the main road where there were sand bags piled higher than a man. Here, driven into the ground were wooden posts on top of which were targets. Some were roughly drawn outlines of people. Others just circles painted with a bullseye. Dennis was up first and he took aim with his AR-15 and splattered the body of a drawn target with a clip of bullets. He then let his machine gun drop to his chest, held by the straps, and pulled out the Sig-pro handgun from his thigh holster and holding it with both hands he emptied a clip into the target’s head.
Al Massri watched on, a little impressed.
“I see you have forgotten nothing,” he said as Dennis holstered the handgun.
“It’s just like riding a bike.”
“You,” Al Massri gestured at Hutchinson.
The American stepped up to where Dennis had stood. He raised the AR-15 to shoulder height, sighted down it and fired. He wasn’t prepared for the powerful kick it produced and it caused him to miss the target. Small puffs of sand erupted from the sand bags. Hutchinson stopped firing. Al Massri moved to him and put a hand on the gun.
“Hold it here like this. Tighter. That’s it. In closer to your shoulder. That’s better. Now sight down the barrel, line up with the sight at the tip. Now fire.”
The first bullet hit the target in the shoulder.
“Aim a bit lower, to the left. That’s it. Fire.”
Hutchinson hit the target in the chest.
“Good,” Al Massri said, “That would kill your opponent. Try again.”
This time Hutchinson hit the target easily. He emptied the clip into the chest. Then when the bullets ran out he turned to his companions with a big, beaming grin.
“Your sidearm,” Dennis said.
“Oh yeah right.”
Hutchinson reached down for the Sig-pro, brought it up and in his haste shot the target in the throat.
“Ouch,” Dennis said, “That would do the trick.”
Hutchinson aimed higher with both hands and emptied the gun into the targets face.
“Nasty,” Dennis said, a little impressed.
“You,” Al Massri said to Natalie.
Natalie stomped up to where the other two had stood, leaned her AK-47 over at an angle, flicked the safety switch to semi-automatic fire, levelled the gun at waist height and fired single shots at the target. Every bullet found its mark. Then she flicked the safety to auto, raised the gun to shoulder height and emptied the rest of the clip into the wooden target. She then lowered the gun again and turned to Dennis who was watching her open mouthed.
“Any good?” she asked.
Dennis got up and approached the target, still open mouthed. He examined the bullet holes she’d made then turned to look at her.
“Where the hell did you learn to shoot like that?”
“Believe it or not I do listen to what you say.”
“Yeah but even so,” Dennis looked back at the target.
Then Natalie laughed. Then he laughed. He grabbed her around the waist and pulled her close.
“Seriously baby. Watching you fire that gun was fucking hot!”
He was about to snog her when he remembered that Al Massri and his men were present and that such an outward show of affection in public would not be appreciated. Then he was letting go of her and they all spun around and everyone was looking up into the sky as a Hercules transporter plane roared past very low. On its wings were red crosses but there was no mistaking the death’s head skull on the tail. The plane was descending and obviously heading for the ruined airport.
“Hey Pete I thought you said nothing was allowed in or out. That nothing could land,” Hutchinson said.
“That’s right. Nothing can.”
“Well someone, somewhere, has obviously got clearance.”
Dennis watched as the plane banked and then dropped more height and disappeared behind buildings and tarpaulins. Then Dennis was running for the Land Rover. “Come on!” he shouted at Natalie and Hutchinson, “Let’s go.”
CHAPTER SIXTEEN
Dennis opened the driver’s door of the Land Rover and jumped in. He thrust the key into the ignition, started the engine, slammed the door shut, selected first gear, released the parking brake and swung the vehicle round in a wide arc. Stones and dust were kicked up from the tyres. Dennis roared up to where Natalie and Hutchinson were. He jumped out and grabbed the equipment Al Massri was carrying. He shook the big man’s hand.
“Thank you.”
Al Massri nodded at his men to load the Land Rover with everything they’d bought.
“Military vests, two hundred rounds each, handguns, spare bullets, trackers, three automatic assault rifles.”
“Where are you going?” Al Massri asked Dennis.
“The people in that plane are searching for something that is very dear to us. We would very much like to get to it first.”
“Is that the reason for the guns?”
“Yes. They have tried to kill us on more than one occasion.”
“Where are you headed?”
“We think Galiliee.”
“Are you going to enter Israel?”
“We have to. There is no other choice.”
Al Massri moved away from the Land Rover.
“I wish you luck.”
“Thank you. Ma Salama. Goodbye.”
“Ma Salama.”
“Better keep the weapons out of sight,” Dennis said to his companions. He engaged first gear and the defender roared away.
“We didn’t get any extra food,” Hutchinson shouted above the noise.
“We should have some left,” Dennis shouted back.
Natalie leaned over the back seat and rummaged through the items they’d brought in from Egypt.
“We’ve still got some cheese, chocolate, water, some biscuits. That bread we bought is going hard though.”
“It’ll be enough. Might just need it for a night. If all goes well we’ll be in Israel tonight or tomorrow.”
“And where are we going now?”
“Look that plane should not have landed here. Nothing can and if Israeli forces didn’t shoot it down then it must have permission to land. And if that’s the case I want to know why and what they’re doing here.”
“And we’re going to just drive straight in there are we?”
“No. I’m going to see if I can get a tracker on that plane.”