few in, splintering the wooden shutters at the windows.
I ll check the back, Dillon said.
He reached the kitchen as the outside door opened and a man appeared, whom he knocked backward into the yard with a quick burst of fire, then closed and barred the door. He returned to the others, crawling as bullets reduced the shutters to matchwood. Firing stopped for a moment, and Holley peered out cautiously.
I can see at least twenty out there. I think they ll try to rush us at any moment.
Indeed, there was the chatter of the Raptor s machine gun, and in that instant, Holley saw seven or eight men go down in the street. He looked the other way at the Raptor.
It s Colonel Hamza doing the firing. Maybe we could make a run for it.
There was the unmistakable rattle of a helicopter approaching, and Holley peered out to see another Raptor swoop in, a machine gun poking out of it, a man standing behind it, ready to fire, just too late, as Greg Slay boosted engine power to lift off with extraordinary rapidity, causing the other Raptor to take immediate evasive action to avoid a midair collision, exactly what Slay had intended.
The other Raptor needed to fly parallel to be able to bring its machine gun to bear, but Greg Slay, his skills honed by years of flying in combat zones, put the Raptor through a dazzling sequence of avoidance turns, during which Hamza s attempts to bring the machine gun to bear on the other craft proved as fruitless as his opponent s.
Slay half cursed, aware of Miller in the far corner, clutching a bloody shoulder, and shouted to Hamza, This is getting us nowhere. Try an RPG. I ll increase speed and look as if we re fleeing while you get ready, then we ll turn and take him head-on. Don t forget your safety harness.
Hamza took it down from a peg, slipped it on and buckled it, the webbing strap with the hook hanging. He dropped to his knees beside Miller and the box of grenades beside him.
As he opened it, he shouted above the cacophony, How bad are you?
Miller had his scarf tucked inside his tunic. I ll survive, don t worry about me. Just blow these bastards away.
That s exactly what I intend to do.
He had the launcher out, inserted a grenade, then hooked himself on by the machine gun and waited. They curved round and went headfirst for the approaching Raptor, whose pilot panicked, turning away and exposing his blind side so that Hamza, trusting his restraining strap to hold him, was able to lean out to fire.
The hit was a direct one. There was a colossal explosion, the other Raptor a great ball of fire as it mushroomed in the rain, pieces of the wreckage flying all over the place and then descending through a pall of smoke.
Slay half turned again and laughed harshly. Bloody good show, Colonel. That s given Ali Selim something to think about. Hamza stepped back, unhooked his safety belt, and Slay added, If you look in that locker above Major Miller, you ll find a pretty comprehensive medical kit. While you re attending to him, I ll take us back to Amira, and we ll see what the situation is there.
Ali Selim had stayed in the porch to watch the air battle far out over the plain, recognized the undoubted superiority of Greg Slay s flying skills, and knew defeat when he saw it, the situation hardly helped by fifteen or so dead or wounded tribesmen sprawled in the street in the rain.
He said into his mobile, You must have seen what happened, Omar. Stay where you are. Be prepared for a quick exit. He turned to Ibrahim. Bring the jeep out of the barn. We ll leave at once.
He stayed on the porch, watching the Raptor approaching in the distance, the remains of the other one sending a towering column of black smoke into the sky, and smiled slightly. Defeat was for this occasion only. There would be other times.
He turned inside the house, found his briefcase and laptop, put them into a bag, and went out to the backyard, where Ibrahim had already driven the jeep out of the barn and was waiting behind the wheel. Ali Selim climbed in and they drove away.
As they bumped along a track, scattering sheep to one side, Ibrahim said, A bad business, master.
Life often is you should have learned that by now. I m not finished with Ferguson and his people. There will be other days.
So where next? Ibrahim asked as slush that the windscreen wipers were unable to clear obscured his vision.
A place where the sun shines on a regular basis would be a change. Arabia, or Oman or, I know, Rubat, where our good friend Owen Rashid s uncle is Sultan. Would you like that?
Ibrahim, who was driving one-handed and reaching out through an open window in an attempt to clear the slush with his hand, said,
I would prefer it to this, master.
Excellent. That s where we shall go. It fits into my plans perfectly, Selim told him, and they topped the hill and started their descent to the Raptor waiting in the hollow below.
Greg Slay flew over the rooftops a couple of times, Hamza loosing off a machine-gun burst or two into the air to show that they still meant business, but only Dillon, Holley, and Sara appeared, waving up at them. Slay put the Raptor down and Hamza stood behind the machine gun, an intimidating figure, as Dillon and Holley walked backward, one on each side of Sara, weapons ready for trouble.
Slay sat in his seat at the controls, waiting for them to arrive, decided to switch off, which he did. The silence was eerie, only the rush of the rain, and nothing stirred until there was the blast of engines breaking into life, the inimitable clatter that could only be from a helicopter. Slay hurriedly switched on again, and Sara picked up her skirt and started for the Raptor, Holley and Dillon running with her. She slowed, limping badly. It was very pronounced now, and there was pain on her face.
God dammit, she said when they got to the Raptor, where Hamza was reaching out to her.
Behind her, the third Raptor rose into view on the other side of the hill, but immediately swung away to the left. She watched with the others. The engine note deepened as it flew away to the west as fast as possible and was swallowed up by the mist.
Are you okay? Holley asked with concern.
Just the damn leg, love. She managed a smile.
It could be a lot worse. That firefight I thought we were finished. She reached up and grasped Hamza s hand. Until you decided to intervene. What happened here, and where s Wali Hussein?
His body s somewhere close by. We re in a different spot than when you left. You ll notice Major Miller feeling sorry for himself in the corner. Wali shot him, so Slay shot Wali dead and threw him out.
She turned to look up at Slay in the pilot s seat. He shrugged. I didn t have much choice. He suddenly turned angry with all of us and produced a shooter from up here somewhere. That was what started heating things up.
Harry Miller said, Sara, would you mind checking the medical unit for morphine? After all, I have been shot in the shoulder. He winced with pain. And may I suggest to you, Captain Slay, that we get the hell out of here?
Hamza said, I suspect Ferguson is the kind of man who prefers bad news sooner rather than later.
You re quite right.
Miller pulled out his Codex with a bloodstained left hand and called Ferguson, who responded immediately.
Harry, where are you? How did it go?
Wali Hussein turned out to be completely untrustworthy, so we found ourselves juggling with three Raptors, not one. There was a brisk firefight, but we ve come through, thanks to some brilliant flying by Gregory Slay and some good work from Colonel Hamza, who shot down a Raptor for us with an RPG. And I mustn t forget Sara, who started playing bowls with a couple of pineapple grenades.
And Ali Selim?
Flown off to God knows where in the worst weather imaginable. Can we leave this dreadful place as soon as possible and come home?
Sara grabbed the Codex and said, He has a bullet in his shoulder, General, which I m trying to do something about, so I ll pass you to Colonel Hamza.
Which she did, cutting Miller s shirt open, the medical kit at her side. She took out a couple of morphine ampoules and jabbed them in his left arm and then explored the wound.
