Which is just the way we like it, decided Steve, pushing the Land Rover up onto one of the tracks that ran north-east. The road would take them straight past the main campsites and up close to the border.
They passed one herd of elephants and, later on, a pair of lions prowled across a road they were trying to cross. ‘They reckon we’re lunch,’ said Steve, blasting the horn to try and get them out of the way.
But as the morning pushed on towards eleven, they still hadn’t encountered any resistance. And, although none of them would say it out loud, it was just starting to look as if they might break through.
It was only another five miles to the northern end of the park. Then another five miles to the lake.
Suddenly, Steve heard a noise. A sudden crack. Like a tree snapping in the wind and rain. Or like a bullet rattling from the barrel of a gun.
‘Christ,’ he muttered to himself.
We’re under attack.
Forty-Four
IN THE FIRST LAND ROVER, Ganju was powering ahead. Its wheels were churning up mud as it slashed across the rain-sodden ground, its big engine roaring as it clawed its way forward. Glancing in the mirror, Steve could see nothing at first, and he wondered if he had imagined the noise.
Then he heard it again. The rattle of gunfire.
‘It’s a truck!’ shouted Nick, leaning out of the back of the Land Rover.
Steve could see it in the rearview mirror now. It was a ten-man troop carrier, probably Chinese-made like most of the military kit in Batota. Two soldiers were upfront, one driving, the other protecting him with a rifle. In the back was space for another eight guys, with all the berths taken. It was at least eighty or ninety yards behind them. Two men had positioned themselves on the ledge of the truck, and were firing into the Land Rovers with their AK-47s. Fortunately, however, through the intense rain it was impossible for them to get an accurate shot. Their bullets were winging through the air, but falling short of the target.
‘Can we outrun them?’ yelled Steve.
‘We can bloody try,’ snapped Dan.
Steve slammed his foot hard on the accelerator. Up ahead, Ganju had just realised what was happening, and was pushing his own machine to the limits of its performance. The track was starting to twist through a wide plain that led up to some hills beyond, with bush to the left and a copse of woodland to the right. A herd of elephants were staring bemused at the chase unfolding before them. The Land Rover was steadily climbing up through thirty, then forty, but the road was turning treacherous, and Steve was struggling to keep the vehicle under control. Gripping the steering wheel with one hand and the gearstick with the other, he switched between second and third as he tried to hold the jeep steady on the slippery surface of the track.
He glanced anxiously in the mirror. Their pursuers were still eighty or ninety yards back, and they weren’t going to be able to get a decent shot at them from there, thank God. Nick and Dan had loosened off a few rounds from their FNs, enough to give the men in the truck something to think about, but it was aimless fire. As he looked up ahead, Steve could see the track winding into the hills. There was nowhere to run, nowhere to hide. Sooner rather than later, they were going to have to stop and fight.
Up ahead, there was a crunching sound, and Steve watched helplessly as Ganju’s Land Rover skidded off the muddy track. In the rainy season, the grasses grew long and thick, and the vehicle was rolling through them, cutting the grass down, but also slowing. Within seconds, it had stalled. Steve pressed hard on the brakes, bringing his Land Rover to a shuddering stop in a pool of muddy rainwater that had formed in the centre of the track.
‘Unleash those bombs!’ he shouted.
Nick and Dan had grabbed two of the fire extinguishers Ian had filled with explosives. With the sparklers lit, Dan hoisted them under his arms, ran twenty yards down the track, then hurled both devices towards the oncoming vehicle. Amid steady fire from the men’s AK- 47s, he turned and zigzagged back. The extinguisher had arced through the air, then landed in the mud, the sparklers still fizzing even with the rain lashing into them.
Thank God they are built for a British Bonfire Night, Steve thought, grimly amused. It take will more than a bit of rain to put them out.
‘Get your head down and stay down,’ he told Sam. Then, grabbing his FN rifle, he threw himself down from the Land Rover, ignoring the muddy water splashing up into his boots. Ollie and the rest of the boys had taken up position behind Ganju’s Land Rover. Their rifles were already raised to their shoulders. They’d wait and see if the bombs dealt with the oncoming enemy. If they didn’t, their pursuers would be driving into a blistering barrage of fire.