The Secret of Excalibur

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No use. It was tied to the platform.

She hurried to the half-repaired wall, seeing Chase and the others being forced at gunpoint into the back of a truck behind the mosque. But there was no way down, the scaffolding only extending a few feet below the level of the platform, just enough to give the builders a foothold.

The rope around the pulley - could she use it to climb down the outside of the minaret?

She grabbed the hanging length of rope, a knot stopping it from falling back through the pulley, but already knew the plan would fail. At 116 pounds she was hardly a heavyweight, but the pallet used to lift bricks to the top of the tower probably weighed less than a quarter as much. As a counterweight, it would barely slow her.

But it was too late anyway. The soldier had reached the top of the ladder, the knife ready in one hand.

Still holding the rope, Nina backed away. The soldier grinned mercilessly, seeing she was trapped as he clambered on to the platform beside the loudspeaker—

She hit the tape deck’s ‘play’ button.

The adhan boomed from the speaker. It almost deafened Nina - but it was like a physical blow to the soldier. He slapped his hands to his ears with an inaudible scream, staggering, and stumbled over the rope.

Nina pulled with all her might. The rope snapped tight around his ankle. She pulled again . . . and the soldier toppled over the edge of the platform.

The rope shot through the pulley as the man plunged to the ground. Nina stopped the tape, the adhan still ringing in her ears as she looked down. Screaming and flailing, the soldier fell - pulling the pallet towards her at the same speed.

She threw herself back as it slammed into the pulley, shards of wood scattering everywhere. The rope pulled taut with a thwack. The scrawny soldier’s fall had been caught just above the ground, where he was dangling by one leg, screeching and flapping as his two comrades ran to help him.

Their faces turned upwards, guns rising—

Nina grabbed the pallet, flinging herself over the broken wall and into the open air beyond.

She had her counterweight.

The soldier was whisked back up the minaret as Nina dropped down its exterior. She kicked at the wall, trying to abseil down - but was falling too fast, her feet slipping and spinning her out of control. The sword piece fell from under her arm. With a panicked shriek, she swung towards the ground, the military truck rushing up at her . . .

A soldier started to emerge from the back of the truck to investigate the noise - and Nina smashed into him feet first, propelling him inside again. He collided with a second soldier, both of them collapsing at the feet of their prisoners.

Nina landed in a heap on the ground and let go of the rope, which instantly whipped away back up the minaret, the luckless soldier on its other end plunging back down the tower to crash on to the two other men. Winded, she looked up. Chase, Mitchell and Karima stared down at her from the back of the truck. ‘And I thought Mitzi made a good entrance,’ said Mitchell.

Chase grabbed an AK-74 assault rifle from one of the fallen guards. ‘Let’s truck off !’ He jumped down from the vehicle, quickly checking for other soldiers before pulling Nina to her feet and kissing her on the cheek. ‘Oh, and thanks.’

‘Any time,’ she replied, shaken but managing a smile. Mitchell took the other soldier’s AK, and Karima yanked a pistol from his holster before they too jumped down to the ground.

‘How many of them are there?’ Nina asked.

Chase glanced round one side of the truck to check the way was clear, Mitchell doing the same on the other. ‘About ten. Two jeeps and this truck.’ Five down . . . but five still remaining, all armed.

‘Where’s the sword?’ Mitchell demanded.

Nina looked round. ‘Shit, I dropped it - no, there!’ She pointed; the broken blade was sticking out of the sandy ground.

‘Come on.’ He ran with Nina to retrieve it. ‘Time to leave.’

Nina heard more shouting from the mosque’s courtyard as she picked up the sword. ‘You do remember that we’re twenty miles from the border, right?’

‘Then we’d better get started!’ Chase called. ‘Karima, get back to the camels. Nina, go with her.’

‘We can’t outrun them on camels!’ Nina protested. ‘They’ve got jeeps!’

Chase grinned. ‘Not for long.’ He waited until she had started after Karima before firing a single shot to blow out one of the truck’s front tyres. Then he signalled for Mitchell to follow him round the side of the mosque to the street.

The sound of the shot would have told the soldiers where they were - which was exactly what Chase wanted, as it would draw them away from the two women. He and Mitchell jogged down the alley, AKs raised.

A Syrian soldier ran round the corner - and skidded almost comically to a stop in a cloud of dust, getting off a single wild shot purely on reflex before flinging himself back into cover as Chase and Mitchell fired. Stone chipped and splintered where the bullets hit.

Chase knew where the two jeeps were parked, having memorised their positions while he was being taken to the truck. The rest of the soldiers would be just round the corner by now, some of them moving across the street to cover the alley while the others prepared to spring out from behind the mosque and blast anyone in sight.

Chase didn’t give them the chance. Instead he ran to the far side of the alley, the first jeep coming into view across the street. Three of the Syrians were using it as cover, lying in wait - but they hadn’t expected him to sprint right into the open, needing a moment to react—

The moment was all he needed, flicking the AK to full auto and unleashing a thudding burst of bullets - not at the soldiers, but at their jeep. They ducked as its rear wing cratered, hot lead ripping through the metal . . .

Into the fuel tank.

A line of fire spurting on to the dusty road gave the soldiers all the warning they needed that they should run, now. Chase was already racing back to take cover against the mosque as the petrol vapour inside the punctured fuel tank ignited—

The jeep blew up like a small bomb. The fleeing soldiers were thrown to the ground by the blast as the blazing vehicle cartwheeled across the road, flaming fuel spewing out behind it. The two soldiers round the corner desperately hurled themselves out of its path as it smashed into the mosque wall, then bounced back to land upside down in the middle of the street.

One of the soldiers sprawled at the end of the alley looked up, saw Chase pressed against the wall, raised his rifle - and took the butt of Mitchell’s AK to his temple. Chase dropped his now empty gun and picked up the unconscious Syrian’s weapon to replace it. ‘Thanks.’

Mitchell peered round the corner. ‘Did you get ’em all?’

‘We’ll see in a sec,’ said Chase. Two men at his feet, one already out cold: he sent the other to join him by kicking him in the back of the head. It would hurt when he woke up - but at least he would wake up. He had no love for the Syrian military, but nor did he have any personal grievance against these conscripts, most of whom were probably still in their teens.

Of the three men by the jeep, one had been thrown against a wall by the explosion and didn’t look as though he would be moving for a while; another rolled in panic on the ground, his sleeve on fire. The third staggered to his feet, AK in hand, but hurriedly dropped the rifle when he saw Chase and Mitchell coming towards him, weapons raised. Chase pointed between two of the houses across the street at the open desert beyond. The soldier gulped, then with his hands raised high turned and ran for the empty sands.

‘You could have just shot him,’ Mitchell said.

‘We’re not at war with ’em. Hey, your arm!’ Mitchell’s left sleeve was torn, a small patch of dark red slowly spreading through the material. The first Syrian’s lone shot had clipped his bicep.

‘Damn,’ the American muttered, regarding the wound with surprise. ‘Didn’t even feel it!’

Chase quickly assessed the injury as minor, nothing a simple bandage couldn’t fix. Mitchell had been lucky. ‘You’ll live, tough guy. Okay, let’s move.’ He fired a couple of rounds to blow out a rear tyre of the second jeep, then rapidly surveyed the scene. Movement in the mosque - al-Sabban, peering fearfully round the gate. Chase glared at him. The imam hurriedly tossed the bundles of dollars out into the street, then slammed the wooden doors.

Satisfied that nobody would be in a position to challenge them before they reached Nina and Karima, Chase