Time of the Assassins u-6

by Alastair Macneill

  'There's the skylight,' she said, pointing to the glass window in the centre of the roof.

  Tambese crossed to it and, cupping his hands on either side of his face, peered through the glass.

  'Well?' Sabrina prompted behind him.

  'Matthew was right: it is some kind of a storeroom. There must be thousands of files down there.'

  'What's the distance to the floor?'

  'It's a drop of about thirty feet,' Tambese replied then removed the rope from his shoulder. 'This is forty foot. Well, I hope it is.'

  'So do I,' Sabrina said and indicated the flagpole behind them. 'We'll need the extra few feet to tie it to that.'

  Tambese unwound the rope and secured one end to the flagpole. He pulled sharply on the rope to test the strength of the pole. It was anchored firmly into the concrete. He looked around slowly. The streets were still deserted. He crouched down beside the skylight again. 'It shouldn't take me long to open it.'

  Sabrina hooked her fingers under the frame and lifted it up.

  'It was open?' Tambese said in amazement.

  She held up a nail file. 'The wood's rotted over the years. It wasn't very difficult to release the catch.'

  Tambese smiled then pulled back the skylight and dropped the rope through the opening. It fell to within a couple of feet of the floor. He held the rope out towards her. She slung her Uzi over her shoulder then abseiled down, landing silently on the floor below. Tambese followed and had almost reached the floor when he noticed that Sabrina was holding out her hand towards him. The gesture wasn't lost on him. And he knew she was right. She deserved to be treated as an equal, not as a woman in a man's world. He held up his hand to concede the point. She moved to the door and opened it fractionally. The corridor was deserted. She gave him a thumbs-up then turned back to watch the corridor through the crack in the door.

  He pulled Okoye's map from his pocket and used it to get his bearings. He was surrounded by rows of shelves, all ladened with dusty, dog-eared files. They didn't interest him. What did were the dozens of drawers that lined the walls. They contained the blueprints of every structure ever built in and around Kondese in the last twenty years. Okoye's contact had said the blueprints for the city sewers would be stored under section 350–400. Tambese went to the nearest row of drawers to get his bearings and it came as a great relief to discover that each drawer was numbered in multiples of ten, and not in single units as he had feared. He quickly found the section he wanted and pulled open the drawer marked 350. The blueprints, which were rolled up and secured with elastic bands, lay in neat rows, and each had a white label attached to it, identifying it by number. He cursed under his breath. Without a code, he would have to unroll each one individually. When he took the first one out he noticed a sheet of paper stuck to the bottom of the drawer. He pushed aside the blueprints lying on top and found it contained the index to identify the numbers. He ran his fingers down the list then replaced the blueprint and closed the drawer. It wasn't in there.

  'Someone's coming!' Sabrina hissed.

  Tambese looked round sharply at her and gestured for her to close the door. She did as he said then took up a position at the side of the door, waiting. He unslung his Uzi and trained it on the door. He was certain they hadn't been seen from the street, and Okoye's contact had said that the alarms had been cut by the Security Police when they took control of the building, so how had they been detected? He quickly reassured himself that the guard's appearance could have nothing to do with them. What if he were going to another room? It was a long corridor.

  Suddenly the door handle was pushed down from the outside. The door was locked, as it had been when they got there. Sabrina stiffened, the Uzi held inches from her face. She curled her finger around the trigger when she heard the sound of keys jangling outside the door. Moments later a key was pushed into the lock and the door opened slowly. But nobody entered. Then there was a distinctive metallic click above them followed by an order in Swahili for them to drop their weapons. Tambese shook his head at Sabrina when he saw her hands tighten on the Uzi. He turned slowly and looked up at the skylight. A man stood a couple of feet away from the window, the kalashnikov assault rifle in his hand trained on Tambese. He repeated his order. Tambese dropped the Uzi. A second man entered the room and quickly disarmed Sabrina.

  'I could have taken him,' she hissed to Tambese.

  'So could I, but at what price? The other one would have opened fire. And even if we had managed to take him out as well the gunfire would have alerted every patrol in the area. The last thing we need is a gunfight in the middle of the city centre.'

  Sabrina remained silent. She knew he was right. She prayed that Graham had seen the man climb up onto the roof. At that moment he was their only chance. Tambese purposely spoke to the guard on the roof, hoping Graham would hear the voice. The guard grinned and pointed to the wall by the door.

  'There's an infra-red sensor embedded in the wall by the door,' Tambese translated for Sabrina. 'That's how they detected us.'

  'Okoye said nothing about any sensors,' Sabrina whispered back.

  'They were put in when the Security Police got here. It was one way of cutting down on guards.'

  The guard behind Tambese told him to be quiet. He looked up at his colleague and as they spoke Tambese's face became increasingly grim.

  'What is it?' Sabrina hissed out of the corner of her mouth.

  'They're deciding what to do with us. The one up there says we're curfew-breakers and should be shot now. The one behind us wants to call Branco and tell Ngune.'

  Again Tambese was told to be quiet. The guard pulled the hat off Sabrina's head, spilling her hair onto her shoulders. He shouted something to his colleague and the two men laughed.

  'What did they say?' she asked Tambese who had got to his feet again.

  'You don't want to know,' he replied.

  The butt of the kalashnikov slammed into Tambese's back again as punishment for speaking to her. He stumbled and fell to the floor. The guard aimed the kalashnikov at him, his finger curled around the trigger. Sabrina lashed out with her foot, catching him on the wrist. The kalashnikov spun from his hand. The guard above them swung his gun on Sabrina's back. Tambese knew he could never reach the Uzis before the guard pulled the trigger. He lunged at Sabrina and knocked her to the ground. The guard on the roof opened his mouth and a trickle of blood seeped down his chin then he fell through the skylight, landing with a deafening thud on the wooden floor. There were two bullet holes in his back. Tambese and the remaining guard both made a grab for the fallen kalashnikov. The guard got to it first. He lashed out with the butt and caught Tambese on the side of the face. Tambese reeled backwards like a groggy boxer who had been rocked by a punishing right hook. The guard swung the kalashnikov on Sabrina who was still reaching for her Uzi. Then he saw a movement above him. He was still raising the kalashnikov when Graham shot him twice in the chest. The bullets punched him back against the wall and he slid lifelessly to the floor.

  Graham crouched at the edge of the skylight. 'You guys O K down there?'

  Sabrina retrieved the Uzis then looked up at Graham. 'What kept you?'

  'That's gratitude for you,' Graham retorted.

  'Did you find the manhole?' Tambese asked, gingerly rubbing his cheek.

  'Yeah, with great difficulty. The nearest is a couple of streets away. That's what took me so long. That, and dodging half a dozen patrols. You got the plans yet?'

  'Not yet,' Tambese replied. 'But it won't take me long.'

  Sabrina piled her hair up on her head and pulled the hat back onto her head. She shouldered her Uzi then climbed up to the roof. Tambese rifled through the remaining drawers until he found the blueprint. He stuffed it down the front of his shirt then he, too, climbed back up to the roof. Graham pulled up the rope and Sabrina closed the window over the skylight,

  'How long before they'll be missed?' Sabrina asked, looking through the window at the bodies below them.

  'The n
ext shift comes on at six in the morning. We'll be long gone before then.'

  Graham untied the rope from the flagpole then looped it over his shoulder and followed Tambese and Sabrina down the ladder.

  'How far is the prison from here?' Sabrina asked once they had reached the ground.

  'About three miles, due east,' Tambese replied then pulled the blueprint out from under his shirt and put it in the holdall. 'We'll look at it when we get to the sewers. At least there we won't be constantly on the lookout for rebel patrols.' He took the rope from Graham and replaced it in the holdall. 'Ready?'

  Graham nodded then broke cover and sprinted a hundred yards to the safety of a low hedge at the bottom of the garden. He scanned the length of the deserted street then gestured for them to follow. They ran to the hedge and crouched down beside him. Graham was about to get to his feet when he heard the sound of an approaching car engine. They lay flat on the ground until it faded into the distance. Graham got to his haunches again and peered over the hedge. He nodded and ran to the gate, wincing as it creaked open. Then he beckoned them forward and led them across the road, up a narrow alley linking the two adjoining streets. He held up his hand as they reached the end of the alley and peered cautiously the length of the second street. It was deserted. He pointed to the manhole cover in the road fifty yards away from where they stood.

  Tambese put the holdall on the ground and flexed his hand where the straps had dug into his flesh. He was about to pick it up again when Sabrina tugged his sleeve and tapped her chest with her finger. She picked it up. It was heavy. But then it would be, she reminded herself. Inside were the oxyacetylene tanks. Graham looked round at them then slipped out into the street, careful to keep close to the buildings in case they needed the cover of a doorway.

  They were twenty yards from the manhole when the man emerged from the shadows of an alley on the other side of the street. Tambese immediately recognized him as the same man who had urinated in the bushes at the city hall. He had another bottle of liquor in his hand. It fell from his fingers the moment he saw them and he was still reaching for his shouldered kalashnikov when Tambese shot him. Graham sprinted over to him and felt for a pulse. He looked up and shook his head.

  'I thought you said they never patrolled on foot,' Sabrina said to Tambese once they had crossed to the body.

  'They don't,' Tambese replied grimly.

  'Which means his buddies will be back for him,' Graham concluded.

  'We've got to hide the body,' Sabrina said, looking around for a suitable place.

  Graham snapped his fingers. 'The sewer.'

  Til get the cover,' Tambese said, already running towards the manhole.

  Graham wiped the sweat from his forehead then anxiously looked the length of the street, knowing the jeep could return at any time or another patrol could appear. He hooked his hands under the man's arms and Sabrina grabbed his legs and they carried him over to where Tambese was struggling to prise open the cover.

  'Hurry up!' Graham hissed.

  'I'm doing my best,' came the sharp riposte.

  Graham laid the body on the ground and crouched down beside Tambese. Between them, they managed to lift the cover and lay it silently on the road. Sabrina dragged the body to the edge of the opening and Graham helped her tip it into the sewer. It struck the water with a loud splash. Then silence. Tambese peered into the darkness. There was a set of rungs embedded in the wall leading down to the sewer. He eased himself through the opening and descended to a ledge. The stench was awful. Graham went next.

  Sabrina was about to follow when she remembered the holdall. She hurried over to the mouth of the alley but as she picked it up she heard the sound of an engine approaching at speed. She knew she would never reach the manhole in time and, looking across at

  Graham, gestured for him to pull the cover back over the opening. He hauled it into place seconds before the truck turned into the street.

  Sabrina melted into the darkness of the alley, the holdall in one hand, the Uzi in the other. She ducked behind a row of metal drums and clamped her hand over her face to block out the putrefying smell of the rubbish that surrounded her. The truck pulled up in front of the alley and the driver shouted the dead man's name. The second man, in the passenger seat, pointed to the broken bottle then threw up his arms in despair and climbed out of the truck. The driver tossed him a torch and Sabrina crouched down as the beam cut through the darkness. It hit the drum in front of her, casting a shadowy light on the ground in front of her.

  Then she saw it: a large, bloated black rat gnawing at a piece of stale bread that lay inches away from her foot. She inhaled sharply, not daring to move as the beam continued to play across the drums. It reminded her vividly of the incident when, as a child, she had been inadvertently locked in a cellar and for the next two hours all she had heard in the darkness was the incessant scurrying of the rats around her. It had left her with a deep-rooted fear of all rodents which had almost killed her while on assignment in Yugoslavia. She had broken cover after discovering that a box she and Graham were crouched behind was infested with rats. Graham had saved her life by tackling her a split-second before a bullet would have hit her.

  The man finally switched off the torch and walked back to the truck. He spoke briefly to the driver and climbed back into the passenger seat. The driver cursed angrily then started the engine and drove off. Sabrina waited until the engine had faded into the distance before getting to her feet. The sudden movement startled the rat and it disappeared through a hole in the wall behind her. She was sweating. Rats still frightened her, but at least now she was able to control her emotions. And that discipline had certainly saved her life. She picked up the holdall and moved cautiously to the entrance of the alley. The street was deserted. She hurried over to the manhole and knocked on the cover. It was pushed back and Graham's head appeared above the level of the road.

  'You OK?' he asked anxiously.

  She nodded and handed the holdall to him. He passed it on to Tambese then pressed himself against the wall to let Sabrina climb down to the ledge. She took the torch from the holdall and switched it on. The first object the beam picked out was a dead rat floating in the water.

  'There's a lot of them down here,' Tambese said behind her.

  'I can live with that,' she replied nonchalantly.

  Graham smiled to himself then pulled the cover back into place.

  NINE

  Carmen looked up in surprise when Whitlock entered the lounge. 'What are you doing up, C.W.? Those sleeping tablets were supposed to have knocked you out until morning.'

  'I never took them,' Whitlock replied, easing himself into his favourite armchair.

  'I don't believe it,' she retorted then closed the book she was reading and placed it on the table beside her. 'You need rest. Why else do you think I asked the doctor to prescribe you such a strong sedative?'

  'I'm on standby, Carmen. What if there were an emergency? What use would I be laid out cold until morning?'

  She shook her head in desperation. 'Your arm's in a sling, for God's sake. What use would you be anyway? I know this might come as something of a shock to you, but UN AGO can function without you. Now, please, take those tablets and go to bed.'

  'Stop fussing, Carmen, I'm OK,' he retorted then inhaled sharply through clenched teeth when he bumped his arm against the chair.

  'So I see.' She got to her feet. 'OK, if you won't listen to me as your wife, then will you at least listen to me as a doctor?'

  'I'm not one of your kid patients,' he said irritably.

  'No, you're not! At least they have the sense to listen to me when I tell them to take their medicine.' She snatched the book off the table and disappeared into the kitchen.

  He crossed to the drinks cabinet and poured himself a small whisky before returning to the armchair. He had certainly been tempted to take the sleeping pills, if only to escape from the guilt he felt inside, a guilt that stemmed from deceit. It had started when Sabrina rang hi
m from Zimbala to get Mobuto to vouch for Joseph Moredi. Then she had called him again to get a clearance on Colonel David Tambese. He had secretly obtained the necessary information from a computer file in the command centre. In return for his help, she had confided to him that she and Graham were working together to find Remy Mobuto. But Kolchinsky had forbidden her to go near Kondese. It had to be their secret.

  Whitlock had been caught in two minds. She was acting in direct violation of an order. And that could lead to her being suspended. Moreover, he would be part of it if he kept the information to himself. But they were his partners, and he had given his word not to tell Kolchinsky. At first he felt he had done the right thing. But the guilt had taken effect like a slow-acting poison and now it weighed heavily on his mind. He knew all he had to do was call Kolchinsky to clear his conscience. But he had given his word. No, he would stand by them, even if it went against him. He was still a field operative. He would only be transferred to the management side at the end of the year. His loyalty was still to Graham and Sabrina. It didn't ease his conscience, but at least he felt his actions were justified. But if they screwed up…

  The telephone rang, interrupting his train of thought.

  'C.W.?'

  'Sergei?' Whitlock replied, immediately recognizing Kolchinsky's voice.

  'How's the arm?'

  Whitlock glanced towards the kitchen door. 'It's OK, thanks. What's up? I'm sure you didn't call just to ask me about my arm.'

  'No,' Kolchinsky agreed. 'It's about your niece, Rosie.'

  'How do you know about Rosie?' Whitlock shot back in surprise.

  'I'm not going to explain it over the phone. I've sent a car over for you. It should be there in about twenty minutes.'

  'Sergei, is she alright?' Whitlock demanded.

  'I don't know,' Kolchinsky replied.

  'You don't know?' Whitlock retorted sharply. 'Why are you being so damn evasive?'

  Kolchinsky sighed deeply down the line. 'A T-shirt with her name on it was found in a flat in the Murray Hill district. Three bodies were also found in the flat. Two of them were policemen. But Rosie wasn't there. That's all I know at the moment. I'm on my way down there now.'