by Tony Park
Brand grabbed Alex by the arm and hoisted him to his feet, but directed his instructions at all four men. ‘Get downstairs, find a window and start shooting.’
Sonja fired at the helicopter and the pilot moved off to change position. She used the break in suppressive fire from above to rest her rifle on the wall and take aim at the advancing force. She found a man, tracked him as he moved and waited for him to find cover behind a palm tree. Sonja watched the man who’d been closest to him. When he dropped to one knee behind a low wall, Sonja knew the first man would get up. She aimed to the left of the tree. The man had held his rifle in his right hand, so he would come out from around the tree on that same side, she was sure of it. As the man emerged Sonja squeezed the trigger. The round took the man in the chest and pitched him backwards.
Sutton had led the charge downstairs, followed by Alex, Stirling and Matthew. Just Brand was left on the roof, with Sonja. He, too, took aim at an advancing Russian, and fired, but missed. The helicopter was settling into a new position. Sonja saw the figure sitting in the back and the long barrel of a rifle, probably a Dragunov or similar, she thought, coming to bear. ‘Come on, let’s go,’ she said to Brand.
Brand ran down the stairs, and when Sonja was halfway down she turned and scanned the skies for the helicopter. Temporarily denied any targets the pilot had returned to the drop-off point by the filling station and landed. Sonja crept back up onto the roof. Below her the defenders were trading bullets with the advancing Russians, who seemed to have gone to ground. Sonja put down her AK-47 and looked through her binoculars. The pilot sat in the helicopter, its rotors still turning, but the passenger who had been firing at them got out and went to the side of the road, to the burned grass, where the three earlier casualties were lying.
Sonja studied the person. The build was too slight to be a man’s. The woman had left her rifle in the helicopter. She went to the prone figures. One of the men who had been burned was still alive. He reached up to the woman with a blackened hand and smouldering clothing. She reached behind her, and Sonja wondered whether she had a first-aid kit on her belt until she saw the pistol in her hand.
Sonja watched, transfixed, as the woman fired a shot into the man’s head. His body convulsed. She moved, methodically, to the next man and then the third, dispatching each of them in the same way. Sonja couldn’t tell if the men had been conscious or not. She swallowed hard. She was no stranger to death, but these people were all on the same side. The woman looked up towards the castle, and Sonja adjusted the focus so that she could better see the face of this cold-blooded killer.
The features were instantly familiar, the high, broad cheekbones, the full, wide mouth. And there was something about the woman’s defiant stare, as if she were searching out Sonja herself, knowing she would be watching, and deliberately challenging her with a look.
‘Irina Aleksandrova.’ Sonja lowered the binoculars, blinked, then raised them again. The woman was still looking up at her.
Irina was in charge. The pieces dropped into place and Sonja realised how ready she had been to misread the information she and Ross had gathered. Irina was not a hooker, nor a bystander to organised crime. She’d had a regular thing with the Vietnamese gangster, Tran, but it was not for sex, or not sex alone. The gunman in the helicopter that had targeted them at the archaeological dig site had talked of being contracted by Russians. Irina was not an innocent pawn, she was the head of a crime syndicate; she hadn’t been killed in Vietnam because she’d been running the whole operation from the beginning. In Sonja’s mind, if Irina was in bed, in a business and literal sense, with Tran, then that also made her an accessory to Sam’s death.
Sonja reached for her rifle but by the time she was back in a firing position Irina had returned to the helicopter and it was lifting off. In anger, Sonja fired a burst of three rounds at the chopper, but it was long range for the AK-47 and she doubted her bullets found their mark. If they did, they did nothing to slow the pilot or the machine, which headed straight towards her as soon as it was off the ground.
Irina must have switched from her sniper’s rifle to an assault weapon, because as the helicopter’s shadow swept over her just as she reached the bottom of the stairs, Sonja was chased inside the castle by a long burst of automatic gunfire.
*
‘I know who’s in charge of the Russians,’ Sonja breathed as she entered the bar and restaurant area, which was thick with cordite smoke.
‘Does it matter right now?’ Brand asked.
‘It’s a woman by the name of Irina Aleksandrova. She wants me dead, and she was part of the operation that was cornering the market in rhino horn in Vietnam – the same crew ultimately responsible for Sam’s death. I had her for a while, in Saigon; I was using her for information.’
‘So that was you in Vietnam who killed the rhino horn kingpin.’
‘Tran Van Ngo, yes. That woman was his business partner.’
‘I take it you didn’t part as besties,’ Brand said as he reloaded and cocked his weapon.
Sonja checked her own ammunition. ‘You could say that. By the way, good work down there by the filling station, even though I told you I was going to do that. What’s the status?’
‘The assault’s stalled. We’re about evenly matched now, and they know they’ll take losses as they cross the open ground out there to the fort. I suspect they’ll try to outflank us, use the shooter in the chopper to keep us indoors.’
‘We need to take out the chopper,’ Stirling said.
‘Easier said than done,’ Brand said.
‘They’re coming again!’ Alex called.
Emma was by his side now as they all returned their focus to their windows. The Russian ground troops were trying to advance. Brand took aim and fired and saw the man drop, though he couldn’t tell if he’d hit him, wounded him, or just scared him.
Bullets shattered glass and ricocheted around the walls of the bar and restaurant. Pictures and glasses were smashed. Natangwe groaned from his place on the leather couch.
‘Maybe we can call a truce,’ Stirling said. ‘They have men wounded; maybe we can negotiate with them.’
‘Negotiate with them? I just watched Irina execute her three wounded men. She’s not going to do a deal with us, Stirling. If we can’t hold out until some cops or someone else show up she’s going to try to kill us all. But I won’t let that happen.’
Brand took two shots at a moving man, then looked to her. ‘What have you got in mind?’
‘They want that fucking rhino horn, so I’m going to get rid of it.’
‘No!’ Stirling said.
She glared at him. ‘Yes. I hate that stuff, Stirling. It caused Sam’s death – it’s caused too many deaths. I don’t care what it’s worth, now or in the future.’
He stood there, and Brand could see his mind turning over. ‘Yes, you’re right.’
‘Hudson, Irina’s going to try to stop me if she thinks I’m going to destroy the trucks.’
Brand nodded. ‘Roger that. We need a diversion.’
‘If you set fire to those trucks inside the gate of the castle you might kill us all – what if they blow up?’ Sutton said.
‘Two guys moving, out in the grass,’ Alex interrupted, then loosed off a couple of shots.
Brand went to the window, then ducked to one side as a storm of bullets passed through and shattered the remaining shards of glass. ‘They’re outflanking us; that’s their buddies putting down covering fire.’
Emma and Alex sniped from adjoining windows. ‘They’re moving too fast,’ Emma called.
‘I’m going topside,’ Brand said.
Brand heard the chopper above and made for the staircase to the roof. He took two steps at time, but spun around when he got to the top, hearing footsteps and huffing behind him. ‘Professor.’ The older man looked up, still wearing his slightly ridiculous floppy hat
and sunglasses. ‘What are you doing up here?’
‘I want to help, I have an idea.’
Brand put a hand to his eyes to shield them from the glare of the lowering sun and looked for the chopper. He could hear it, but still couldn’t see it. He blinked and saw a speck. ‘Bastard’s coming in out of the sun.’
Brand sprinted for the crenellated wall furthest from him to try to get some cover from the shots he knew would be coming from the helicopter any second now. When he got there he turned to see Sutton standing in the middle of the flat roof, waving his arms, rifle in one hand.
‘Get down!’
Sutton laughed. ‘You wanted a diversion.’
Bullets started heading their way and Brand realised Sutton was clearly visible to the Russians on the ground, even though the chopper wasn’t in range or at an ideal angle for the sniper on board to get a sight picture.
Brand was half hidden by the masonry work and from this vantage point he could see a Russian break cover, standing behind a tree so that he was hidden from the people inside the castle, but exposed from above. Brand aimed, squeezed the trigger and the Russian fell back.
Sutton was laughing, but on his belly now, crawling to the fortifications. ‘Good show! Took your time, though, eh, Yank!’
Brand shook his head. The old man was crazy, but when he took his glasses off for a second to wipe away some grit or perhaps even laughter-induced tears, Brand saw a flicker of real joy there.
‘Haven’t had this much fun in years.’
‘Chopper, get down!’
Brand nestled himself into the corner where the wall met the roof line, his AK up and ready in case he could get a shot off. Sutton, on the other hand, was moving his arms and legs like a kid making a snow or sand angel as the Bell passed low overhead. Brand fired a burst of eight rounds at the helicopter, which peeled off. He could see the head of the gunman sticking out, although now he could see quite clearly that Sonja was right – it was a woman. The chopper banked and turned before Brand could loose off another burst.
‘So what’s your idea, Professor, other than trying to get yourself killed just then?’
Sutton, lying still now and catching his breath, put his glasses back on and looked to Brand. ‘I think we need another diversion. Sonja’s right to want to destroy the horn, but we can’t have ourselves trapped here in the castle with a couple of burning trucks blocking the gate.’
‘You’re crazy, right?’ Brand asked.
‘Assuredly. But I’m also right. And the other thing I know is that those Russians aren’t going to scale the walls and they’re moving too fast and too professionally for your fledglings downstairs to take them out. You need to lure them into a trap.’
Brand put two and two together. ‘You want to move the trucks – open the gates so the Russians can charge in, and then take them out when they enter the gate.’
‘Exactly.’
‘But who’s going to move the trucks?’
‘Me. I’m old, Brand, expendable. I checked them earlier, during a lull. There’s a tow cable in Stirling’s Amarok. I’ll attach it to the Unimog, which is running, even if the radiator’s full of holes. I’ll at least be able to create a diversion by driving away. I checked the Amarok just now, it won’t start and the Hilux is completely finished. I’ll shunt the Hilux out of the way and tow the Amarok out into the open. You just make sure you and the others are lined up and ready to kill those bastards when they rush the gate.’
‘What happens if the Russians kill you and simply tow the rhino horn down to the helicopter? You’ll have handed them what they want.’
Sutton nodded. ‘I thought of that. As soon as I’m clear of the castle I’m going to torch the Amarok with the horn in it. Stirling’s wrong; it’s not worth saving. It’s better to get rid of the stuff. Worse case, if the Russians do kill me and get hold of the horns they might just leave you alone.’
Brand thought the old man was crazy, but if he wanted to throw his life away that was his business. ‘OK. Good luck.’
Sutton got up and made for the stairs. One of the Russians obviously saw movement on the roof, for he fired off a couple of rounds. He looked at Brand, who stared back at him and gave him a small salute.
‘Hudson!’ Emma called from the courtyard.
‘What is it?’ Sutton disappeared down the stairs and Hudson leaned over the internal parapet to see Emma.
‘They’re around us now. We lost sight of them.’
‘They’re going to be coming through the main gates soon. Get everyone to take up position in a doorway, in the bar, in the hotel rooms. Stay out of sight, and when they storm the entryway, let ’em have it.’
‘That’s the plan?’ She sounded as incredulous as the plan deserved.
‘’Fraid so. Tell your mom.’
‘Will do.’
Brand jogged down the stairs. It was eerily quiet now. The Russians were working their way around the castle to get into position for the final assault. The helicopter was standing off, also waiting for the last push, its engines just a mosquito-like drone in the distance. All of the castle’s defenders were taking up positions around the internal courtyard. Emma had even moved Natangwe to the doorway of the bar. He sat in a chair, his gun hand propped up on the padded leather armrest. He gave a weak smile. Gutsy kid.
Brand moved to the trucks and found Sutton between the Unimog and the Amarok. Sutton was securing a wire tow cable from the tow ball at the back of the bigger truck to the double cab’s recovery shackle below the bumper bar.
Alex was watching on. ‘Have you called for the aeromedical evacuation chopper now that the power’s back on?’ Brand asked Alex.
‘Done,’ Alex said.
‘Good work.’ He turned to the professor. ‘Ready to go?’
Sutton stood straight. ‘Ready as I’ll ever be.’
‘That Unimog’s shot up pretty bad. You won’t get far, Professor.’
Sutton blinked at him. ‘I don’t need to go far. I just need to get far enough away to open your trap and to stop the Amarok from setting fire to the castle and harming someone when I torch the fuckers.’
Brand had to laugh at the obscenity. ‘Right.’ He looked at the old wooden cases piled in the rear cargo area of Stirling’s truck. There was a fortune in there.
Sutton got into the Unimog and started the engine as a hail of gunfire erupted from the other side of the car park.
Chapter 34
Sonja leaned around the trunk of the stout palm tree in the castle’s courtyard and fired two three-round bursts in quick succession in the direction of where the gunfire had come, covering Hudson as he ran back through the now open entryway.
The Russians had opened fire as Dorset rammed the disabled Hilux out through the entryway and pulled away from the hotel, the Unimog towing the Amarok.
‘Where’s Emma?’ Brand asked her as he made it to the tree and flattened himself behind it.
‘In the bar, with Natangwe.’
Brand nodded. ‘Good.’
Sonja removed the magazine from her AK-47, checked the remaining rounds, and refitted it. ‘Ready?’
‘Ready as I’ll ever be,’ Brand said, imitating the professor.
Sonja braced herself against the tree. Brand broke cover and took the stairs to the main tower two at a time. At the top she saw him peek over the fortifications and look around. Then he looked back down at her, touched his eyes with the first two fingers of his left hand and pointed in the direction of the open gateway.
Sonja knew he was asking her silently if she could see any movement from ground level. She shook her head. It was eerily quiet now; no one else was shooting. The noise of the Unimog’s engine was fading away, so at least Dorset hadn’t been killed. At any moment she expected the whoosh and roar of Sutton setting fire to Stirling’s vehicle. Even the helicopter was keeping its distan
ce, its engines just a distant hum.
Brand’s rifle barked twice.
‘What is it?’ she called up to him.
‘Son of a bitch.’
‘What?’
He jogged to the edge of the tower and looked down at her. ‘I can see them, the Russians, they’re running down the road back to the filling station. They could be regrouping, or maybe they’ve had enough.’ He trotted down the stairs.
Sonja joined him at the bottom of the staircase. ‘Where’s Sutton?’
‘He’s about halfway down the road to the garage. The Russkies ran right past him. He’s waving a white flag – a pillowcase or something out of the window. Damn it. What the hell’s he up to? He was supposed to burn the horn.’
Sonja tried to process the dramatic change in events, and their fortunes. The Russians were brave, but also foolish trying to attack such a fortified position. Perhaps they’d seen the opening of the entryway to the castle for what it was, a chance for the defenders to slaughter the remaining attackers, and lost their nerve. She looked around. Alex and Stirling emerged from their positions around the courtyard.
‘Alex, while it’s quiet take that fuel can you took from Stirling’s bakkie and get the generator started.’ Alex nodded and left.
Sonja went into the bar to check on Emma and Natangwe. She allowed a couple of seconds for her eyes to adjust to the gloom of the bar, which was cooler than outside. Natangwe was propped in his chair, just inside the doorway. Sonja looked around. ‘Where’s Emma?’
Natangwe looked up at her, his eyes red. ‘She . . . she didn’t tell you?’
‘Tell me what?’ Sonja felt her heart start to quicken.
‘She went out. She said Professor Sutton wouldn’t be able to tow the bakkie away with no one behind the wheel.’
The noise of the generator roaring to life filtered through from the courtyard and lights flicked on inside, illuminating Natangwe’s pained face. Sonja turned on her heel and strode back across the courtyard towards the entrance.
