they would all be out of the farmhouse and on their way back to Kabul and freedom.
Cavendish kept his hands in his pockets because they were sweating. Despite the cool air conditioned interior, he was beginning to find the whole atmosphere uncomfortable. They had about five minutes before the Reaper would be over the farmhouse and Berry would fire the missile. He already knew the official reason for launching the rocket; to kill suspected terrorists. But he knew that Hudson was dealing in retribution and plain murder.
He closed his sweaty hand around his mobile phone and an idea came to him. He excused himself to the others and stepped outside the Reaper control room. He then took the phone from his pocket and wrote a simple text on the screen, dialled a twelve digit number and pressed the call button. He closed the phone and slipped it back in his pocket. Then he went back inside.
Susan cupped her hands in the bowl and scooped the water up to her face and over her hair, letting it cascade down over her bare shoulders. It wasn’t exactly a shower, but in the circumstances, it was the next best thing. She did it again and again until she felt she could get no more out of it.
There was no towel handy, so she dried herself on her blouse and slipped it back over her shoulders. She emptied the bowl and buttoned her shirt, then went back into the kitchen.
Marcus and David were waiting there when Susan walked in. She was about to say something to them when she heard her mobile phone ringing. It was in the room she had slept in with Marcus. She looked at the two men and frowned, then went through to her bedroom. When she returned, her face was as white as a sheet.
Marcus looked up as she walked in. His smile quickly disappeared when he saw the look on Susan’s face. She had the phone in her hand and was holding it out like a gift.
‘Look!’ she said.
Marcus took the phone from her hand which was shaking. The text message was very clear and unambiguous.
‘ Missile. Two minutes. Run! ’
‘Fuck! Let’s get out of here,’ he screamed. ‘Out, out!’
The three of them ran out into the yard, but once they were out there, neither of them seemed to know what to do. Then Marcus pointed towards the far side of the track in front of the house. There was a small orchard about twenty yards from the house.
‘In there!’ he shouted. ‘Get as far away as we can. Quick!’
‘What about Abdul?’ Susan screamed out.
Marcus stopped. It took him a few seconds to make the decision. ‘I’ll get him. Now run!’
Before either Susan or David could protest, Marcus had gone, running into the house as fast as he could. They had used up one minute.
‘Missile armed and locked, and ready to launch.’
Berry brought the Reaper down to its attack height. Locked on to the image of the farmhouse and held his thumb over the launch button.
‘Fifteen seconds. Within range.’
He brought his thumb down on to the red button.
‘Goodbye farmhouse. And all you boys in there can kiss your asses goodbye.’
He pressed the button.
Marcus sprinted down the passageway and into Abdul’s room. The defunct warlord opened his eyes wide in surprise at Marcus’s sudden appearance. Marcus tore the bed clothes from him, hauled him out of the bed and threw him over his shoulder in a fireman’s lift.
The clamps holding the Hellfire missile opened on the port rail under the wing of the Reaper. The missile’s single stage, rocket propellant motor fired, bringing the thrust to over 600 pounds at which level the missile left the rail, dropping away until it was 500 feet from the aircraft. It then armed itself automatically and went in search of its target; the farmhouse which was now being hastily evacuated by Susan and David. But Marcus was still in there.
Susan and David sprinted like hell into the trees and kept running until they heard the whoosh! as the missile streaked in and blew the farmhouse apart. The blast wave knocked them off their feet even though they were now well in amongst the trees.
Tons of brick debris and dust enveloped everything, raining down on them like a storm. Susan clamped her hands over her ears and just kept screaming. David was close to her but couldn’t hear Susan because his ears were ringing from his own screams and epithets too.
They lay together for a long minute before daring to move. Then suddenly Susan sat up.
‘Marcus?’ she called. ‘Marcus, where are you.’ She stood up. ‘Marcus!’ Her voice became stronger, and began to fill with fear. ‘Marcus, where are you?’
She started to walk towards the remains of the farmhouse, stumbling over the shattered masonry that lay all over the ground, then her footsteps quickened until she was running towards the house and calling out Marcus’s name.
David and Susan reached the ruin together. It could no longer be called a house; it was nothing more than a pile of rubble. The blast fragmentation warhead of the missile had simply decimated the entire building.
Susan began stepping over the rubble, instinctively making her way towards that part of the house where she knew Abdul had been tied up. It was in one corner. There was nothing there.
David took hold of Susan’s elbow and tried pulling her away. He could see that no-one could have survived the terrible blast. If Marcus had been in that room when the missile struck, there would be nothing left of him. Nor Abdul for that matter.
Susan wouldn’t budge; she remained where she was, staring at what was left. David could see the tears beginning to fill her eyes. Ironically the wetness made her eyes glint and sparkle in the dust that covered her face.
Then he heard a sound. It was coming from well beyond the rubble. Susan looked over towards the sound too. Then they both saw him; Marcus! He was covered in dust and what looked like mud. He was on his knees and waving at them.
Susan screamed and ran as fast as she could. David ran as well, but he was laughing as he ran.
When they got to Marcus they could see where he had fallen into a ditch. There was a little water in there which accounted for the mud that covered him. Lying in the ditch, seemingly unconscious was Abdul.
Marcus pointed at him. ‘He didn’t want to come at first.’ He laughed. ‘Bet he’s glad he did now.’ He looked at what was left of the farmhouse. ‘Wow, what a fucking mess!’
Susan fell on him, covering him with kisses and mumbling something about how much she cared.
Marcus just took her in his arms and held her. He had a broad smile planted across his face.
‘How did you manage it?’ David asked him.
‘You left the window open,’ Marcus told him. ‘When you climbed out after I’d faced up to Maggot. Good thing too. I picked up Abdul and, well, we just bowled out of the window.’ He let go of Susan. ‘I got about ten yards from this ditch when the bloody missile struck. Goodness knows how I managed to cover that last ten yards so quickly.’
David nodded towards the ditch. ‘How’s Abdul?’ he asked.
Marcus turned round. ‘He took most of the blast, but he should be OK.’ He got to his feet with Susan reluctant to let go. ‘Time we were not here,’ he told them. ‘There will be people swarming all over this place soon.’
The three of them helped Abdul struggle out of the ditch. He was still tied but his legs were free. He didn’t look too good, but that meant he offered no serious threat to any of them.
‘So what do you propose we do?’ David asked.
Marcus held his hand out. He still had Susan’s mobile phone in it. ‘I never even let the bloody thing go,’ he
