‘I work for Chinese State Security Ministry,’ the man said quickly in halting English. Stratton kept the pistol pointed at him. There had been nothing in the brief about anything Chinese.
‘What’s your interest in Sabarak?’
‘I cannot tell you that. Even on pain of death.’
‘You sure about that?’
‘You will eventually know the answer to that anyway. My life and reputation would be worth nothing if I told you.’
‘Shall I engage them, sab?’ Prabhu asked, looking to the approaching men who were less than a minute away. He’d unholstered his pistol and held it at the ready.
Stratton looked into the darkness towards the village, then at Ramlal behind the wheel of the idling Land Cruiser. ‘No. Let’s go.’
Stratton pocketed the Chinese man’s passport, holstered his gun and climbed into the front passenger seat. Prabhu got into the back along with Hopper, and Ramlal floored the accelerator pedal.
Hopper kept an eye on their rear while Stratton studied the way ahead. He saw the foreign ambush team reach their commander. He saw the guy get to his feet. He saw them stand in the middle of the track, talking.
The Land Cruiser bumped heavily along. A lone car passed along the coastal highway in front, its headlights silently cutting into the blackness.
‘What do you think the Chinese Secret Service wanted with this clown?’ Hopper asked. The Saudi sat between him and Prabhu, his head lolling left then right, his tongue hanging out. He couldn’t stop drooling. Hopper shoved Sabarak away on to Prabhu, who was equally unimpressed.
‘No idea,’ Stratton replied. His focus had switched back to delivering their man to Oman. The threat had passed so short of any unforeseen accident, they would be at the border by first light. There was something niggling him though he did not know what. Whether it had been the fight or the close call that almost lost him his man, he didn’t know.
He made an effort to unwind, shake off the uncomfortable feeling and concentrate on the drive. They would divide the journey into two watches. The Gurkhas were fresher than him and Hopper so they could take the first couple of hours. As soon as they were heading comfortably along the highway, he would grab a nap. It had been another long day.
The Cruiser bumped up on to the tarmac highway. Ramlal turned left and they headed north-east along the coast. It looked like the weather was closing in. The coastal highway did not hug the sea but paralleled it a couple of hundred metres away. An unending wall appeared on their right side, eight feet tall, a large property boundary made of concrete block and plastered and painted. It was a typical Yemeni construction. Stratton had heard of their love of walls. It was a national trait. He believed it. Even if there was nothing yet built on a property, or anything likely to be for years to come, they’d still build a wall around it.
The wall gave way to a view of the sea once more and the smooth two-lane highway stretched away from them towards Oman. The road was in good condition like it had been built not too long before. Stratton slid down a little in his seat, leaned his head back and got comfortable. As he was about ready to shut his eyes, a light reflected off the wing mirror on his side. He looked at the distant globes.
Headlights.
Stratton stared at them, his natural suspicion tingling. He hadn’t been aware of any vehicle behind them when they joined the road. It must have come from a nearby house. The timing bothered him more than anything else. He wasn’t a great fan of coincidences.
As they took a gentle bend, a second pair of headlights appeared close behind the first. That was enough to make Stratton sit back up. Harmless or not, it had to be proved it was safe before he could ignore it.
He considered the possibility that it was local security forces. They’d be interested in a lone car at night on these roads. Yemen had been placed on a state of alert after the increase in terrorist activity in recent months. He would rather avoid the authorities. He had the right paperwork and the numbers to call but the Yemenis would take for ever to confirm his right of passage. Particularly with his unconscious passenger. It would interrupt the final exfiltration phase from the country.
But as Stratton watched the vehicles he knew this was trouble.
He could feel it.
Everyone else in the car was by then on the same train of thought. Ramlal had hardly taken his eyes off the lights since he had seen them. He was at one-forty kph, which was standard cruising speed on these roads. He added another ten without noticing.
Hopper and Prabhu looked through the rear window.
‘Trouble,’ Hopper mumbled.
‘I think so,’ Stratton said.
‘Tenacious buggers, the Chinese,’ Hopper said.
‘Clearly not easily discouraged,’ said Stratton.
The two vehicles, smaller, faster 4?4s, had been moving at their top speed and once they closed the gap they slowed to match Ramlal’s. It pretty much confirmed the suspicion that they were aggressors. Ramlal pushed on the accelerator but the Cruiser didn’t have the power to do much more. He couldn’t pull away from them.
The lead pursuer then accelerated and looked like it was going to ram them.
‘Gun!’ shouted Stratton, Hopper and Prahbu at the same time as a man leaned out of the passenger window with a pistol in his hand.
Ramlal swerved the vehicle, reducing the gunman’s arc of fire. But another gunman leaned out of the other side.
Ramlal swerved again but he had been bracketed. The first guy fired, the round punching into the back of the Cruiser, erasing any possibility of them being overzealous highway or army patrol.
Now both shooters fired. No windows had been hit. They were trying for the tyres. Ramlal forced the Cruiser left and right, its tyres screeching.
Another stretch of long wall on the coastal side of the highway came to an end, revealing a broad stretch of ground that shelved gently down to the ocean five hundred metres beyond. Lights flickered a couple of kilometres in front near the beach. A village.
‘Get off the road!’ Stratton shouted.
Gripping the wheel like a vice, Ramlal swerved the vehicle to the edge of the tarmac and dropped it down on to the dirt shoulder. The lead pursuing vehicle followed like it was being towed behind them. But the dust kicked up by the Cruiser was vast and immediate, acting like a smoke screen between them.
As the Cruiser sloughed along the rutted shoulder, the second 4?4, still on the road, drew up alongside. Another man leaned out of the rear window and took aim with a handgun.
‘Ramlal!’ Stratton urged, as he aimed his gun past his driver’s head.
Ramlal cringed and braced himself for the shot. But he didn’t wait for it because he had to swerve to avoid a massive boulder right in front of them on the shoulder. The gunman fired at the Cruiser, hitting the door and doorframe. Stratton fired back turning the car’s rear passenger window white.
Up ahead the shoulder was becoming rocky. Ramlal steered hard left, up the shoulder, back on to the highway. All inside hung on, except the Saudi. Sabarak was bouncing up and down like a rag doll. His head struck the roof as the Cruiser flew up on to the road and he opened his eyes with a gasp.
Ramlal aimed the front corner of the Cruiser at the rear quarter of the other 4?4, just behind the tyre. As the two vehicles brutally connected the Cruiser sent the 4?4 into a violent swerve as its back wheels tried to overtake the front wheels. On the second fishtail, they succeeded and the vehicle spun a full hundred and eighty degrees, its wheels smoking, coming to a stop facing backwards.
By now Sabarak, who had almost regained full consciousness, looked every bit like he was living a nightmare.
Ramlal had the old Cruiser up to its limit but the other 4?4 was more powerful and moved alongside. Stratton recognised the front passenger immediately through its open windows. It was the Chinese Secret Service officer. He had a semi-automatic in his hand and aimed it past Ramlal at Stratton. Another Chinese agent in the back held a sub-machine gun out the window.
The officer indicated with the pistol for Ramlal to pull over.
Ramlal glanced at his boss. He would do nothing without the OK from Stratton.
