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Fire Force(139)

By:Matt Lynn


The driver jammed his foot even harder on the accelerator. There was sweat pouring off the back of his neck but he didn’t turn around.

‘Answer, or I’ll shoot.’

‘You’ll bloody kill us all,’ shouted Ian.

The Toyota swerved suddenly, as the driver jammed his foot on the brakes, pulling simultaneously on the handbrake. The Toyota started to skid, sliding across the surface of the track like a puck sliding over ice. It began to spin, then one of the wheels hit a rock. The Toyota shuddered, then stalled. The window smashed, the glass splintering over the men inside as the barrel of an AK-47 was thrust through the window, pointing straight at Ollie.

‘Get the fuck out of the car.’

Ollie started to draw the Enfield from inside his trousers.

‘Bloody move it,’ barked Wallace. ‘Or I’ll spray this vehicle with bullets, then put a bomb under it, and you bastards will be fried to death.’





Forty-Seven

OLLIE’S HAND WAS STILL HOVERING close to where the Enfield was hidden. Straight ahead of them, through the driving rain, he could see a jeep. Out of it stepped a tall, strong soldier, gripping an AK-47, and with the distinctive purple and gold beret of the Sixth Brigade slotted onto his head.

Steve recognised him at once.

Yohane.

The bastard who murdered Chris.

Behind him were another two soldiers, their guns pointing straight at the Toyota.

‘Move it, boys,’ snarled Wallace. ‘Just take a look in the mirror.’ The image was quite clear in the rearview mirror. Newton was standing at the back of the Toyota with a flaming torch in his hand. He’d already taken the petrol cap off, and was poised to plunge the torch straight into the tank. The vehicle would explode instantly.

‘If you don’t get the fuck out now, you’ll all die.’

‘Do as he says,’ said Steve.

‘We’ll bloody die with our boots on,’ snapped Ollie.

‘Then you’ll die thinking with your arse rather than your brain,’ hissed Steve. ‘Do what the fucker says.’

‘He’s right,’ said David. ‘We’ve got no chance.’

Slowly, Ollie started to climb out of the Toyota, followed by Ian, Maksim, Nick and Steve. Only Dan remained in the Toyota, dropping down below the back seat of the people-carrier.

‘Put your hands in the air,’ ordered Wallace. He was armed with an AK-47; so was Newton. The barrels of the two guns were pointed straight at them. Reluctantly, Steve folded his palms behind his neck. He could feel the cold steel of the Enfield pressing against his skin inside his waistband, but he knew there was no time to draw and get a shot away without getting mown down by the assault rifle pointing straight at him.

Wait and watch, he told himself. Our chance will come.

‘This way,’ Wallace said roughly.

He was pointing towards a track that led down to the lake. Steve started to walk, followed by the rest of the men. Behind them, Yohane kept his own gun trained on them. Ahead, Steve could just make out a jetty and, alongside it, a motor boat tethered to the mooring.

‘Sod it,’ he muttered to himself.

We were so close, so bloody close.

Archie stepped out of the boat and walked to the head of the jetty, with the waves whipped up by the storm swirling behind him. He was wearing a dark-green anorak to protect him from the rain, and there was a thin smile on his face.

‘How did you find us?’ Steve asked steadily.

‘It was her,’ Ian said viciously, nodding towards Sam.

‘No!’ cried Sam. She’d run forward and was now standing between Archie and the rest of the men grouped around the head of the pier. Behind them, the boat was bobbing around in the rough water slapping at the jetty.

‘Don’t lie, you bitch,’ said Ian. ‘We get delivered straight into the hands of your brother. It’s obvious, isn’t it?’

‘Christ,’ muttered Steve to himself. That can’t be true, can it?

Sam wouldn’t betray me.

‘It wasn’t that hard to track you,’ said Archie. ‘Our father used to pull that trick of bringing journalists in and out of the country by mingling with the tourists on the bridge. I was certain Sam would suggest it. We didn’t want to create any trouble at the bridge. Bad PR for what remains of the tourist industry and, as you know, I’m not a man who ever lets anything stand in the way of business. We just paid the taxi drivers on the other side a few hundred dollars, and told them that as soon as eight ugly-looking guys got into one of the cabs, they were to drive them straight to us.’

He flashed a grin. ‘Went like clockwork - just like this whole operation.’

‘It was nothing to do with me, Steve,’ said Sam. She was looking towards him, her eyes desperate. ‘You have to believe me.’