“Pedro.” There was steel in Safardi’s voice. “She is not to be harmed until we make the trade.”
“Soon, puta.” The thin copra-coloured face pushed close to Morweena’s. “Soon your man will be forced to watch our little dance of love and death.”
Morweena pulled her arm away from the Colombian and drawing all the spittle from her mouth spat into his face.
Pedro stood with the spittle running off his chin and smiled. “It will be good, puta,” he said, striding away towards his master. “It will be so good.”
“Senorita, por favor.” One of Safardi’s guards ushered her towards the rush hut which stood at the edge of the lagoon. When they reached the hut, he pushed her inside.
Safardi gathered his forces around him and handed each man a walkie-talkie. “Veeral, you stay with me. Pablo and Emilio, circle to the left and come in from the back of the glade. Ignacio and Gonzalo, you go with Pablo and Emilio but work your way towards the centre of the glade from the side. Carlos, go back down the trail and cover our rear.” The four men immediately split from the group and made off in the directions Safardi had indicated.
“What about the woman?” Pedro asked.
“Manuel will keep her in the hut until we need her. If there’s any gunfire, I’ve ordered him to kill her.”
Safardi put his arm around the Jamaican’s shoulder. “You, Veeral, and I will reconnoitre the glade. Kane is out there somewhere.” Safardi turned to his remaining men. “The rest of you stay here until I call you.”
Kane watched Pedro bundle Morweena out of the lead vehicle and then stand menacingly over her. The other two vehicles disgorged their contents. Each man was armed with an Uzi machine gun. The men went and immediately surrounded their leader. Pedro joined them and one of the guards was dispatched to take care of Morweena. He watched Safardi standing in the centre of his men looking every inch the born leader. He focused the binoculars on his face and imagined the orders he was giving to his men. Swivelling to the right he saw Hackett’s face flushed with excitement. Four of the guards broke away from the main bunch and began to make their way towards the glade before wheeling away to his right. Safardi was surrounding the glade. Without thinking, he checked that the Uzi was ready for firing. He looked up in time to see Safardi, Hackett, and Pedro making their way towards his position. It didn’t look like Safardi had come to trade.
A sudden shiver passed along Safardi’s spine. The English had a phrase, something about someone walking over their grave. That was exactly how he felt. As though someone had walked over his grave. Such thoughts were ridiculous. The odds were overwhelmingly in his favour. He turned and looked at Pedro. Having the Colombian so close re-assured him. “Why doesn’t he show himself?”
“Patience, mon,” Hackett said. “He feel death coming.”
Safardi was struck for the first time at the denseness of the trees. The three men pushed on through the pine branches and over the gnarled husks of long-dead cork oaks. The grass on their right parted and as Pedro dropped into a firing stance, a wild boar shot across the path in front of them dripping mud from its hindquarters.
Safardi’s heart was pounding as the boar disappeared into the undergrowth on the far side of the track. He watched the Colombian, marvelling once more at Pedro’s lightning reactions.
Pedro stood up and moved his Uzi into the ready position. He motioned silently towards the clearing ahead. “Something is not good. We must be careful. This man kill Jaime. We must respect.”
From his vantage point behind the tangled roots of the dead cork oak tree, Kane watched the careful approach of Safardi, the Colombian and Hackett. If it came to a fight, the Colombian would not be as easy to take as Jaime. Pedro was ready. He remained immobile as the three men stood facing him on the other side of the glade.
“Good evening, gentlemen.” Kane’s voice carried across the glade.
Pedro immediately dropped onto one knee and brought up his Uzi to cover the other side of the clearing.
Safardi and Hackett stopped in their tracks before dropping to join the Colombian. Safardi withdrew an automatic pistol from the pocket of his bush jacket. “Where is he,” he whispered.
“Other side of the clearing.” Pedro stared into the foliage. “He’s been here all along.”
“What’s the plan?” Hackett said.
“Maybe we should trade the woman for the drugs and forget about them.” Safardi felt a wave of fear spreading through his body.
“No, they die,” Pedro said quietly. “They kill my friend.”
“I’m with Pedro,” Hackett said. “I want Kane’s head.”.
“Answer him,” Pedro ordered.
“Kane!” Safardi shouted. “We have come for the trade as arranged.”
“Come into the open,” Kane said.
“Go,” Pedro said nudging his master with the muzzle of his Uzi.
Safardi stood slowly and advanced two yards until he stood inside the clearing. “You brought the drugs?” he said, through lips which were suddenly dry.
“Yes.” The voice hung in the air causing Safardi to squint at the other side of the glade. “I see you brought Morweena. Get her up here.”
“First the drugs.”
“Get Morweena here right away or you’ll never see those drugs.”
Safardi glanced around at Hackett who nodded. He took the walkie-talkie out of his pocket and switched it on. “Manuel.”
“Si, patron.”
“Traer a la mujer.”
“Si, patron.”
“She’s on her way. Now, where are the drugs?”
“When she arrives.”
Kane watched Pedro and Hackett crouching behind some fallen trees five metres behind Safardi. He felt a trickle of sweat channel itself down his forehead and through his eyebrow. He could hear the guard and Morweena making their way towards the clearing but resisted the urge to move. The Colombian would be waiting for the slightest movement to get a sighting on his position. It was also possible that the four guards were present out of sight and could get a bead on him
