Fire Force(8)

‘Now!’ Ian was shouting.

Steve lunged for the gate. Behind him, he could hear the barracks doors swing open, and the sound of shots being fired as the men poured out. Up on the watchtowers, two more flashlights had been switched on, flooding the courtyard and the gates with light, increasing the accuracy of the fire from the soldiers. Steve could feel one bullet fly past him, and saw another spit up a clump of earth two feet in front of him. He swerved violently, making himself as hard to hit as possible, and raced breathlessly onto the road.

To the left, he could see four soldiers advancing out of the bar, their assault rifles stretched out in front of them.

A Toyota Rav 4 was speeding towards them, a cloud of dust kicked up by its wheels. ‘Jump, jump!’ shouted Maksim.

The Russian former special forces - or Spetsnaz - man spoke in a rough, broken English. But Steve didn’t even need the command. The door was already open and, as the Toyota slowed, he bundled Ollie towards it. Grabbing hold of the door, he levered them both inside. The engine was roaring as Maksim kept it revved up, with the gears in neutral. Ian climbed in, dragging the prisoner behind him, and Maksim slammed his foot hard on the accelerator, spinning them away down the road. The sudden movement jerked Steve forwards. He rolled to the front seat, then quickly straightened himself. The Toyota was accelerating fast, climbing through sixty, then seventy miles an hour, even though the road was nothing more than a dirt track that twisted wildly as it made its way down to the sea.

‘Christ, man, I can’t bloody see anything,’ wailed Ollie.

‘You’ll be fine in a couple of hours,’ Ian said impatiently. ‘It’s the flash.’

‘You don’t want to sodding see this anyway,’ interrupted Steve, looking behind them.

The four soldiers from the bar had climbed into a Nissan Navara pick-up truck and were giving chase. From inside the jail, another group of soldiers had climbed on board a Chinese-made Mengshi troop carrier. Both vehicles were hurtling down the road. Steve could hear the sound of assault rifles opening up as the night sky was lit up by flashes of co-ordinated gunfire. One bullet had already smashed into the back of the Toyota, narrowly missing the tyre. Another had torn out a chunk of its rear fender.

‘Faster,’ said Ian, his voice tense.

This is their territory, thought Steve grimly. If we get bogged down in a firefight we’re done for.

‘Where are the weapons?’ he shouted.

When the plan had been put together, they’d decided that Maksim, as well as Nick, the young Welsh guy they’d taken along on their last job, should also be part of the rescue mission. Maksim would collect them in an SUV outside the jail: the Russian was the best driver they’d ever met, as well as the most fearless combatant, and if there was any man you wanted at the wheel during a getaway it was Maksie. Nick would rent them a boat, and lay up on one of the tiny coves that dotted the shore of the island: once they made their break from the jail they knew there was no way they were going to be able to get out via an airport.

But there should have been weapons, decided Steve. If it came to a fight, they needed something to level up the odds.

‘They’re on the boat,’ Maksim replied.

‘What the hell use are they there?’ Steve said angrily.

‘Get out and walk if you’re not happy,’ Maksim snapped back.

Steve was about to say something when the Toyota hit a massive boulder and leaped into the air, rising two feet, its frame shuddering. He could feel the impact of the blow rattling through him as it then crashed onto a sandy bank. The back window shattered, sending shards of glass showering through the cabin like confetti. For a moment, the engine stalled. Maksim had turned the key, but the machine was whining like an injured animal. Steve glanced anxiously around. He couldn’t see the troop carrier or the Nissan through the darkness, but he could hear the roar of their engines.

In a moment, they’ll be upon us, he thought. And without weapons we’re done for.

Ian had ripped the last remaining thunder-flash from his chest. He slammed the detonator cord into place, then lobbed the incendiary device back along the track. It arced clean into the air, exploding five feet off the ground and, in an instant, its glorious white flash lit up the darkness of the African night, bathing the island in a neon, incendiary glow. A crack of noise fissured through the air, strong enough to make the trees around them groan.

There’s no way a man can drive through that, decided Steve. You’d need nerves of hardened tungsten.

Then the engine roared into life again, and Maksim steered the Toyota back onto the track, kicking hard on the accelerator. They were rocking violently as they went down the narrow pathway, the metal of the machine scraping against the palm trees and rocks as they twisted through the dense foliage. Steve could feel his pulse quickening as he clung onto the dashboard, his eyes scanning forwards, desperate to see the first evidence that they had reached the shore.