And he had to keep gripping the safety levers.
He couldn’t allow the final remnants of strength to drain from his body too soon…
The rear lights of the cars that passed him drew long, red-neon lines through space. Amit felt as though a mist was gathering all around him. The closer it came, the less strength he had.
A car overtook, the driver beeping his horn at Amit’s slowness. He barely noticed. His concentration was all used up.
How far to the border? Harah, how much further could he last?
Time passed. He had no conception of it.
He saw Maya in his mind. His sister. He saw her as a child, kneeling on the pavement by their mother, shrieks of indescribable grief reaching to the rooftops. And he saw her now. So ruthless. So angry. When she learned what he had done, she would be proud of him. That thought alone gave him a little extra strength. A little extra resolve.
The lights outside were brighter. More numerous. There were people. Uniforms. Men with guns. He removed his foot from the accelerator and pressed the brake a little too sharply. The Toyota juddered to a halt. Ahead of him there was a queue. Three vehicles, perhaps four.
He closed his eyes, panting, trembling. He had to wait until he was closer to the barrier, twenty metres ahead, where he could cause maximum damage. Through the open windows he heard noises. Vehicle engines. Voices shouting harshly to each other in Arabic. Bustle. People. The queue crept forwards. Slowly. So slowly…
There was only one car ahead of him now. His body was shaking even more violently. The strength was leaving his wrists. He mustered his determination and moved one arm down to rest on the ammo boxes on the passenger seat.
The lights were getting dimmer. He could barely breathe — just short, desperate gulps.
The car ahead had moved off. Amit advanced a final few metres towards the barrier.
Figures surrounded the Toyota, shadowy and indistinct. Amit had no idea how many there were. He was past counting. Past caring.
But he knew there were only seconds left.
‘
It wasn’t a conscious decision to let his grip on the detonation levers slip. His strength had come to the bottom of the tank.
Amit didn’t hear the explosion of the grenades, or of the ammunition stash in the passenger seat. He didn’t see the burning white fluorescence that filled the car and burst out of the open windows, or the way the hot phosphorus sprayed over the faces and uniforms of any border guards within twenty metres of the Toyota.
And he was dead before the car exploded, throwing shrapnel, rounds, fire and burning chemicals high into the air, and raining down on the border post and the soldiers who guarded it.
In the darkness of the desert, Luke, Finn and Abu Famir heard the explosion — a single boom, followed a series of aftershocks. They turned in the direction of the border. It was a little less than a klick away, and they could see a distant glow — the remnants of the Toyota, of their weaponry and of Amit.
Abu Famir shook his head in disbelief, visibly moved. ‘Who was he?’
Luke wiped a trickle of sweat from his forehead. ‘A decent guy,’ he replied quietly.
A pause.
‘In your world,’ Abu Famir said, ‘do decent guys always cause such destruction?’
From the opposite direction, they saw the lights of a chopper burning along the highway towards the border. The Iraqis’ resources would now be concentrated on the location of Amit’s makeshift suicide bomb. For a short while, at least. That would leave the three of them free to find a place to cross into Jordan on foot. Luke estimated that the border was now 800 metres north-west of their position. If they could reach the fence in the next ten minutes while the Iraqis were looking the other way, and with a bit of luck, they should be able to find a crossing point.
Luke turned his back on the explosion. He nodded at Finn, who nudged Abu Famir with the butt of his M4.
‘Get moving, sunshine,’ he said. ‘We’ve got a border to cross.’
THIRTEEN
Chet woke up with a start.
It was a thunderclap that had roused him. He was lying on the bed, with Suze’s naked body beside him, one slim arm over his chest. He checked his watch without waking her. 02.23 hrs. He cursed himself for having fallen asleep, but then what did he expect? He’d hardly had any shut-eye for nearly two days.
The room was dark and the rain hammered against the window. Suze murmured something in her sleep. He couldn’t tell what it was, but she was clearly disturbed by her dreams. Her body jolted, like she’d received an electric shock, but she remained asleep.
He lay there, his mind churning. He heard the tape in his head. Stratton’s voice, and the American’s. The evidence that Britain’s Prime Minister was being bribed to go to war.
He remembered the firm handshake the PM had given him thirty-six hours previously.
He saw Doug’s broken body.
He saw the face of the woman who wanted to kill him. The wavy black hair. The black eyes.
It was a noise that brought him back to the here and now. It wasn’t loud. Quieter than the thunder and almost masked by the torrent of the rain. He could easily have missed it. He got out of bed, dressed quickly and went to the window.
What he saw made him feel as if the blood had drained from his veins.
The rain was sheeting down, in thick waves that limited his vision to about twenty metres. But twenty metres was all he needed to see that a vehicle was approaching. Its headlamps were off, but there was the faintest glow from the dashboard, which disappeared as the car came to a halt by the black Mondeo, fifteen metres from the farmhouse, and the driver turned off the engine.
He checked his watch again. 02.31 hrs. Who would be approaching this place at such a time? And driving in this weather without lights?
Only somebody who didn’t want to be seen.
But how the hell…?
Chet looked over to where Suze was still sleeping fitfully. He moved over to her side of the bed, put one hand on her shoulder, one over her mouth, and shook her. She woke up suddenly, looking round as if she didn’t know where she was.
‘I’m going to ask you this once,’ said Chet, ‘and honestly, Suze, you’d better tell me straight. Who did you call earlier?’
A pause. Suze looked at him with wide eyes, but she couldn’t keep that gaze going for long. She lowered her head and Chet removed his hand from her mouth.
‘My mum,’ she whispered. ‘I’m sorry… I just had to speak to her. She’s in a home and she’s expecting…’
Chet closed his eyes. He wanted to be angry, but there was no time for that.
‘Listen to me carefully,’ he said. ‘Your mother’s dead.’
She stared at him.
‘You’ll be dead too, if you don’t do exactly what I say. Get dressed.’ Suze didn’t move, so Chet grabbed her by the arm and pulled her naked to the window. ‘You see that vehicle? It arrived less than a minute ago.’
As he spoke, a light came on in the car as the door opened and a figure got out.
‘Oh my God…’ Suze whispered.
‘Get dressed. Now.’
‘Is it her?’
