She was about to go first but he stopped her.
“Wait!”
He pulled her back. A door had opened halfway along the corridor. It was a guard coming out of the lavatory. Dennis knew he had to move now or when the door closed they would be seen. The man turned and closed the door and glanced up as Dennis crashed into him. Dennis punched him twice in the face forcing the man around. Dennis grabbed his forehead from behind and pulled him to the ground. The guards head hit the floor with a sickening smack.
“Quick! Help me get him back into the toilet.”
Natalie approached slowly.
“Is he dead too?”
Dennis paused. The man’s chest was still moving.
“No just unconscious. Get his legs for me.”
Together they bundled the inert form into the cramped cubicle. Dennis quickly unbuttoned his own shirt, took off the man’s black shirt and put it on. He lifted the strap of the Heckler and Koch MP5 over the guards shoulders and checked it for ammunition. It was a full clip. He took the Glock out of his pocket.
“Do you know how to use one of these.”
She was absolutely terrified but knew she had no choice but to take it.
“If you need to fire it just release this,” Dennis demonstrated by releasing the safety catch, “point it and pull the trigger. The recoil will snap your hand and arm back so use both hands ok.”
“No.”
“You’ll be fine.”
He crammed the guard’s black cap down onto his head.
“This should fool them long enough for me to act if we’re caught.”
He closed the toilet door and made for the stairs.
“We need to get to the top deck to use your phone. Stay close to me.”
They sprinted up the steps to the next level. Natalie keeping as close to him as she could. Terrified as she was she couldn’t help smiling at the rush of adrenalin. She felt safe with Dennis, she knew he’d get them out of this somehow.
They made it to the top deck and huddled out of sight. Dennis took her phone from her. The screen was still showing no signal. He tried calling out but it was still jammed. A quick glance from cover revealed that all attention from the ’Wavecrest’ crew was focused on the sarcophagus which was being covered with a tarpaulin ready for its long journey to wherever Von Werner was taking it. Dennis checked again and seeing no one was near he grabbed Natalie’s hand and ran out into the open making for the nearest containers and cover. They stopped dead in their tracks as two Tunisian fighter planes screamed past on the starboard side. The noise was deafening. Everyone on the ’Wavecrest’ had stopped what they were doing to watch them. The Lynx helicopter was halfway between the two ships carrying a crate of the artillery shells. As the noise from the planes receded the sound of a siren drifted across the water. Tunisian navy gunboats were heading towards them. Behind the boats the port of Gabes.
An anguished roar of pain came from behind Natalie and Dennis. They spun around. Danilov was in the doorway, blood covering half his face. Dennis raised the MP5 but Danilov fired first. The G36 spluttering once. The bullet caught Dennis high in the right arm, spinning him and throwing him to the deck. The MP5 clattering out of reach.
“Peter!” Natalie screamed.
She started to run to him but Danilov caught her in two strides. He threw his machine gun down and slapped her hard across the face stunning her. She fell to the deck. Dennis looked up at the bright blue sky. High overhead seagulls were circling. He turned his head. The bullet had scraped his arm. There was a little blood, nothing more. But it burned. Then he saw Natalie’s head bounce off the deck. A low growl escaped his lips. Like an automaton he got to his feet. He rushed at Danilov and hammered blows into the big man’s ribs and face. He succeeded in making the Russian stagger back a step or two. Then Danilov stood his ground and smashed his fist into the English man’s face. Dennis was sent flying. Danilov hawked and spat blood. The pain in his head was excruciating. He rushed at Dennis and catching hold of him by the shirt he picked him up and threw him fifteen feet across the deck. There could be no doubt now. This fight was to the death. Danilov wouldn’t stop now until Dennis was dead. Of that the journalist was sure.
Von Werner’s attention had been taken up by the approaching Navy boats. One of his men tapped him on the shoulder.
“Eh?”
Von Werner turned and now saw the fight. He saw the girl laying on the deck also watching. Danilov stomped to where Dennis lay and picking the Englishman up again he punched him in the face. A stream of spittle and blood splashed the deck from Dennis’ mouth. Danilov threw him across the deck again and followed closely behind. This time he kicked Dennis in his previously injured ribs. Dennis did a barrel roll, now he was winded. Danilov kicked him again and again and again. Finally Dennis ended up on his back retching and coughing up blood.
Some of Von Werner’s men started to run towards the combatants but he put up a hand and stopped them.
“Wait!” he shouted.
It wouldn’t take Danilov long now to kill the lesser man and Von Werner smiled. Danilov was mocking Dennis. The cat that toys the mouse. He was taunting him though they were too far away for Von Werner to hear the words.
Dennis, on his knees, was very slowly getting to his feet. Danilov picked him up in both hands by the neck and began strangling him. Dennis, already winded, couldn’t breathe and he felt himself fading fast. He summoned up the last reserves of his strength and tried to tear away the hands that were throttling him but Danilov was too strong. Then in a last, supreme effort Dennis dug his fingertips into the large gash on the back of the large Russian’s head. He dug his fingers in so deep he felt warm blood gush over his hands. Danilov roared with pain and let go. Dennis scrabbled at the Russian’s military fatigues as he fell to the deck. Dennis’ lungs screamed for breath and he sucked in a large gulp of air with the vital seconds now afforded him. Danilov frantically wiped at the blood, his blood, flowing into his eyes, blinding him. Then he saw his prey and rushed at him, readying the kill. When he was two feet away Dennis suddenly sprang up and thumped him in the chest. Dennis hadn’t hit him that hard but Danilov suddenly sensed the blow had hurt him. He tried to pick Dennis up again but suddenly found he couldn’t move his left arm. His breath was now coming in short gasps. He tried to take a deep breath and felt fire in his throat. He saw his opponent slowly stand in front of him, suddenly unafraid of him. A look of puzzlement crossed the Russian’s brow. He felt tired, more tired than he ever had been before. A series of short pains racked his chest. He was having trouble breathing. He looked down and saw the hilt of the knife, his knife, sticking out of his chest. For the first time in his life he felt very afraid. He knew the knife had pierced his heart. Knew he was dying. He reached out a hand to Dennis.
“Help me please,” he said, his words faltering.
Dennis smirked at him then took a step back and placed a well aimed kick catching Danilov right between the legs. The huge Russian grunted and crashed to his knees. His eyes rolled upwards in his head and he pitched forward onto his face, driving the six inch blade deeper into his heart.
Dennis spat on the body.
“Go fuck yourself!”
He heard Natalie sob once and holding his ribs he limped over to her and helped her up. The sound of someone clapping slowly made them turn. Von Werner was twenty paces away, his handgun levelled at them. Slowly he came on.
“What am I to do with you?”
He nodded as he passed the Russian’s corpse.
“Ah I see you have killed Danilov for me.”
“For you?” Dennis enquired.
“Why yes. You see Danilov has a rather large bounty on his head. I of course intended to collect it after my business here was done.”