ELEVEN
Wali Hussein had discussed the flight with Greg Slay before they left. Short flights to towns and villages by his three Raptors were commonly accepted by air traffic control at Peshawar. The one he had filed for a twenty-mile run to Dimla aroused no comment; nor did the fact that at five hundred feet and ten miles south, it swung west across the border with Afghanistan. Greg Slay at the controls, they set course for Amira.
The weather was atrocious, heavy rain mixed with those large wet snowflakes, the mountains in the distance shrouded in mist. The landscape below, in the heat of summer arid and barren, stretched to a gray and miserable infinity, patchy with snow. Here and there, what had once been fissures in the ground were now swollen with water.
They passed the occasional mud house, sometimes four or five such dwellings huddled together. Occasionally two or three people would appear and stand together, staring up, although, muffled as they were in winter garments, it was impossible to tell if they were male or female.
Harry Miller, who was wearing an old sheepskin robe over his uniform, stood by the machine gun, peering out. What a bloody awful place. The backside of the world.
That s why they call it the Wilderness, Hamza shouted. Tribal laws alone apply here. They can do what they want.
Miller crouched beside him. I m trying to imagine Ali Selim fitting in here. In London a couple of days ago, now here in some mud hut, living a primitive life.
But with a mobile phone, don t forget that s all he really needs, Hamza reminded him.
Why is it so important for him to be here, of all places? Miller asked.
Al Qaeda reigns supreme in areas like this. The tribesmen from these mountains are warlike by tradition and easily recruited for the training camps in Waziristan. To them, Osama bin Laden was the next best thing to the Prophet himself. A great man who made them proud to be Muslim, proud to see Americans and British humiliated by what the West calls terrorism, but they regard as a holy struggle.
So when Ali Selim appears in their midst, it s like the Second Coming? Miller asked.
A Christian concept, that, and quite different, Hamza said. But he has enormous power and respect.
Miller shook his head. I still think religious differences are a poor reason to kill someone. I m sure most people would agree if pressed, whatever their religion.
Wali Hussein turned and scrambled down, leaving Greg Slay on his own, and said to Miller, Not long now. You and the colonel will stay well back out of sight, and Slay must join you. They will expect to see only me at the controls, and my cousin and the woman.
Hamza said, All right, we re not fools. Raise your arms.
Not again, Wali Hussein said, but did as he was told.
Hamza searched him, running his hands everywhere, and found nothing. Wali Hussein said, Can I go now?
Just get on with it. Hamza turned to Miller.
He s such a devious little bastard, I always expect him to try to pull a fast one, because so often he has.
A few moments later and a mile away, they saw Amira nestling at the edge of the plain, a great sloping snow-covered hillock rearing a couple of hundred feet above it, the mountains swallowed by the mist behind.
We re starting our approach, Wali Hussein called, and Slay dropped down from his seat and found Miller and Hamza at the rear of the cabin. He peered out a porthole with binoculars he d brought from the flight deck.
The Raptor went straight on, turning at the last moment, flying parallel to the village, finding no sign of people, turning in again and starting to descend thirty or forty yards away from the edge of the village, for the streets between the mud houses were extremely narrow.
Inside the crude porch of his house, Ali Selim peered out at the heavy rain, watching the helicopter descend.
He was holding a mobile in his left hand and said in English,
Stay online, Omar, but tell the crew of the second Raptor to take off when I call. Hold the other in reserve and fly that yourself if needed.
As you order, master, came the reply.
Ibrahim said, They come, lambs to the slaughter, and the Jewish woman in a burka.
I have plans for her, a very valuable young woman. Once she s in your charge, it will be your responsibility to see that no harm comes to her. Now step outside so that they can see you, beckon to them and tell them to come here, Ali Selim told him.
Ibrahim obeyed and stood in the rain, watching them approach, a formidable figure in black headcloth and plaited dreadlocks, black robes, a bandolero about his waist, and holding an AK-47.
They stopped dead, looking at him, and at that moment, shots rang out inside the helicopter.
Wali Hussein was responsible for everything that followed. As he landed the Raptor and switched off, he instantly removed his flying jacket and baseball cap and threw them across the cabin to Dillon.
There you are, then. Let s see how you get on being me.
Dillon put them on, reached up and yanked the scarf from around Wali Hussein s neck, and put it on. Will I do?
The resemblance was remarkable, and he picked up a bag. Wali Hussein frowned and said, What s in the bag?
You wouldn t want to know. Dillon jumped down to the ground, reached up to help Sara, who was followed by Holley, who had found a large black umbrella in the helicopter and opened it, pulling Sara close to him in the pouring rain as they walked.
Inside the Raptor, Slay, Hamza, and Miller were still holding back, and Wali Hussein said, What s he got in the bag, Colonel?
Hamza ignored him and focused on Ibrahim farther up the street.
A very nasty-looking piece of work has just appeared, black robes, armed to the teeth. He probably doesn t kill anyone, just scares them to death.
Wali raised his voice. I m not interested in that. I asked you what s in the bag.
Greg said, What do you think? A special thank-you present for Ali Selim.
For a moment, Wali sat there staring down at them, his face working, and then he shook his head. I don t know what s going on, but I m not having it.
He felt under the center of the instrument panel, pressed, and a flap fell down with a. 38 snub-nosed Colt held by a clip. He turned, and Hamza tried to pull his Browning out of his holster. Wali fired wildly, hand shaking, missed Hamza but shot Miller in the shoulder, knocking him off his feet.
At the same moment, Greg Slay drew the. 25 Belgian Leon from his ankle holster and shot Wali Hussein between the eyes, killing him instantly. He reached up, caught him by the belt, heaved him down, and rolled the body out under the machine gun to fall to the ground.
Hamza turned from examining Miller. What now?
God knows what effect the sound of shooting will have on this place, but you ve got the machine gun, and I ll fly this damn thing, so be ready for anything, Slay said.
Dillon, Holley, and Sara paused in the middle of the street at the sound of the shots, and ahead of them doors opened, and tribesmen, with AK-47s at the ready, emerged. Holley dropped the open umbrella to the ground, obscuring them for a moment. Sara reached inside Dillon s bag, grabbed a pineapple grenade in each hand, pulled out the pins with her teeth, then held them up, holding each release bar tightly.
See the gift I bring you, she called in Pashtu.
I ll kill myself and my friends, but also every man in a fifteen-meter radius.
She released the bars, and there were cries of dismay. They turned and fled as she lobbed the grenades, chasing them. The effect was catastrophic, men blown from their feet. Dillon had her by the arm and across the street, kicking the nearest door open, Holley following them.
There was no one at home, although a fire smoldered on a stone hearth. Dillon and Holley had taken Uzi machine pistols from the bag and passed another to Sara. They all went down to floor level as a storm of bullets
