Natasha spoke in his ear. “My room is right up at the end.” She pulled at his sleeve. “Come and see. I know where we are.”
“You do? Can we get out this way – further up?” he whispered to his daughter.
“Wait up,” Jackson said. “I don’t want to go in any deeper. This place is a warren. We stay here, then we get back on the exit route.” He jerked a thumb towards the passage, a warning glint in his eyes. “Now quiet.”
They waited. An escalating grumble coalesced into a conversation of raised voices. The slap of sandals on stone was close now, almost on top of them.
“Daddy?”
He put his finger to Natasha’s lips and shook his head.
“I want to get something,” she whispered. “Maybe Sara will be there,” she added brightly.
Dracup frowned and pressed a finger urgently to his lips, flabbergasted at the carrot his daughter had used to entice him. Good grief – and she’s only eight...
A group of men passed the passage entrance, close enough to touch. Dracup pressed his back against the wall. The voices were harsh and argumentative, sparring in animated conversation. A tang of acrid cigarette smoke wrinkled his nostrils and was gone. The regular metallic clank of some loose piece of equipment receded with their unresolved discussion.
“Daddy, please.”
“Quiet, ’Tash.”
“We’ll give it five,” Jackson whispered hoarsely. “There may be more suckers on the way.”
Moran blew out his cheeks. “Jihadis.”
Dracup frowned. “How can you be sure?”
“They’re not the guys who took a pop at you earlier. I’d guess they were some kind of internal security. These –” Moran waved vaguely in the direction of the departed group, “are definitely in a different league. Look at the clothing, for a start. Isaaba. Standard Al-Q action garb. Did you catch the hardware as well? That was a mortar.”
Jackson chewed his gum and nodded silently. “Just keep it down. If they suss us out we’re dead. Period.”
Dracup squatted to take the weight off his feet. His mouth was furred and dry. He racked his brains to remember the last food that had passed his lips, and failed; he remembered ’Tash’s first reaction on seeing him: You’re thin. He smiled. Succinct, to the point. Just like Yvonne. The thought jarred. He wished he had some way to communicate Natasha’s safety.
Moran was admiring the marines’ armament. He listened as Cannon described the customisations he’d made to his weapon. Cannon flicked a switch; a red dot appeared on the ceiling, some way down the passage. “It’s a laser sight,” Cannon explained. “You can’t miss with this baby.”
Moran looked suitably impressed. “And this?” the DCI asked, pointing to another rocker switch situated above the magazine.
“Remote operation,” Cannon told him. “I can even fire this sonofabitch from around a corner, provided I can get a clear view.”
“How?” Moran was all ears.
Jackson showed his wrist. “With this,” he said. “Radio controlled. Effective up to distances of two hundred metres. First button switches on the sights, second fires ten, twenty, thirty rounds. Depends on how you set it up.”
“Daddy. Please can we go to my chamber?” Natasha repeated her request.
Dracup thought quickly. It might be his only chance to get away. “’Tash wants to collect something from the room they kept her in,” Dracup said to Jackson. “It’s close by – that okay with you?”
Jackson looked Dracup up and down. “No way.”
Natasha appeared between them. She gave Jackson her best smile. “Please?”
“Uno momento, young lady,” Jackson said, visibly weakening. He placed his hand gently under her chin and tilted her head up. “You’ve been here a while, ain’t you? Okay, just hold on a little longer.” They watched him creep to the junction and peer round the corner. He returned with a resigned expression.
“All clear,” he shrugged. “Go with them, Cannon – pronto.” Jackson waved them on. “And hurry.” He looked at his watch. “Two minutes max.”
Cannon led them along the corridor. They passed two or three recessed doorways; other Korumak residences, Dracup assumed. He marvelled at the efficiency of this underground community. They had the basic commodities: light, heat, water. He was puzzling over the fourth, food, when Natasha gave a small noise of recognition. And then stopped in her tracks. “Here.”
Cannon turned. Dracup looked over Natasha’s shoulder. “What is it, ’Tash?” And then he saw.