By the time the first ripples got halfway across the river I was scooping up the Famas and moving fast, keeping low and checking the trees for signs of the company I knew was on its way in.
I made it back to the area where I’d left the crossbow, hearing voices filtering through the marsh. It sounded a lot like the man in charge demanding an inquest and promising hell and damnation on whoever had messed up this time. That suited me; I needed all the help I could get and the more he yelled at his men the better. I located his voice somewhere ahead of me, with other voices coming closer to the spot where I’d just shot their colleague.
I ran past the hide, snatching up the crossbow on the way, then moved over to the river. There was no sign of the man with a bolt in his shoulder so I figured he was in the SUV and out of action. I slid down the bank and into the water, dragging my legs against the current and pushing up the other side.
It was awkward going with the rifle, the Sig and the crossbow, but I couldn’t afford to leave any weapons behind. I took a second to check I wasn’t about to run into trouble before ducking into a mess of brambles and bushes clumped around a large tree trunk that had seen better days.
It put me back near the ammunition dump and as close as I wanted to be. I dragged some leaves away and pulled out the canvas bag and tripwire Fabien had given me.
This wasn’t going to be sophisticated; I’d done this kind of thing before and not always using flashbangs. But these would serve a purpose. It took me five minutes and then I was ready.
I fired the Sig twice into the air, then screamed and sat back to wait for the reaction.
It came good and fast. The boss man was in the area to my rear and the other two were somewhere deep in the trees. Three on the move with two down made five. I hoped that was all they had and that someone I hadn’t seen yet had got cute and was waiting to ambush me.
The boss man came charging through the undergrowth behind me like a tornado, breathing heavily and clearly pissed, ready for a fight to make up for his losses. I waited until he was close enough before pulling the length of tripwire by my right hand. There was metallic ping of the pin coming out and I counted to three before ducking my head and covering my ears.
The blast came good and loud, shaking whatever else in the way of wildlife that hadn’t already moved out to scatter far and wide. Even with my eyes closed I caught a sense of the flash that came with it lighting up the gloom among the trees like an exploding movie studio arc lamp.
If the running man had heard the warning ping he hadn’t paid it much attention, but the blast would have certainly been enough to deafen him. The following eyeball-searing flash of light would have made him think the sky had fallen in.
He kept on running but he was moving on a dry tank. His eyes would have been hurting like hell and his balance shot to ribbons. He also wouldn’t have been able to hear a thing, so the fact that I was standing up as he came close simply didn’t register.
I shot him once centre-frame, then stepped forward and kicked the AK out of his hand. I bent and ripped his cellphone off his shirt front and frisked him, retrieving a Makarov nine-millimetre pistol. All three items went into the river.
Then I got away from there.
There was a lot of shouting, none of it controlled, and I heard the man I’d just shot yelling into the air. I guessed he was telling his friends not to come in shooting, which was very wise of him.
Seconds later they did just the opposite, running in from two different sectors. They took a quick look at their boss, then ducked down, scanning the trees. It was too little too late but their lack of combat discipline was just what I needed.
I reached down and grabbed the second tripwire, then lay flat on the ground and pulled.
Two seconds later the flashbang erupted, sending both men into a spin. But it was nothing compared with the explosion that followed from the ammunition dump as something went up, sending a huge gout of earth, mud, foliage and debris into the air and peppering the trees all around with a deadly spread of shrapnel.
I waited for the count of ten before venturing out. I had the Famas ready but there was no need. The two men were on the ground. One was dead, his chest covered in blood, the other was wounded but out of it, breathing in short gasps, his eyes devoid of expression.
I gathered up my gear as quickly as I could and tossed it all in the nearest pond, where it sank without trace in the mud. Then I ran back to the van and drove to the gate heading north and let myself out.
Time to go home.
FORTY-SIX
On arrival at the FBI office, Bill Warner greeted Callahan and Andrews. He shook hands warmly with them before leading them to a small room set up with an open computer screen on the wall. He was trying to look casual but wore the air of a man on a cloud.
‘It’s been a while.’ The FBI man grinned and waved at them to sit. ‘And here we are again with a familiar name. I never was completely sure about Desayeva.’
Callahan nodded. ‘Same here. What have you got?’
‘You hit us on a good day.’ Warner turned to the monitor. ‘After what Andrews here found out we had a team running over Ledhoffen’s
