Behind the Wire (A Dan Taylor thriller)

by Rachel Amphlett

  The dry heat left him with a parched throat by the time he’d found his allotted vehicle, and he sat in the driver’s seat with the air conditioning ratcheted up to full for five minutes before he tugged the door shut and acquainted himself with the controls.

  Soon he was heading away from the airport and onto the highway that tracked south towards the mine site and the camp accommodation where Anna Collins had last been seen.

  He found a truck stop ten minutes later and swung into the dusty parking area, locked the door, and entered the small store, stocking up on snacks and plenty of water before continuing his journey.

  He had no idea what to expect when he arrived at the camp, or when he and Anna would be able to get a flight out of the country – if he could find her.

  He tried not to think of the alternatives: that he was too late, or she had vanished without a trace.

  Once clear of the city, the highway angled south and the landscape returned to a rocky, flat terrain. Dan recalled an Arabic word from his time in the Middle East – hamada – that described the scrubby earth and its pitiful attempts at sustaining life between the stones and boulders.

  The SUV rumbled over potholes and cracks in the road, the asphalt broken up by a combination of the harsh desert temperatures and heavy construction machinery that thundered between the new mine and the capital. Here and there, dead foxes and rabbits lay to the side of the road, victims of the increased traffic.

  Dan’s fingers gripped the steering wheel a little tighter, and he forced himself to concentrate on the road ahead. It wouldn’t do to fall asleep at the wheel and drift in front of one of the trucks that might travel from the opposite direction.

  After twenty minutes, the road curved left and the setting sun over Dan’s shoulder glinted off a long steel structure that stretched as far as he could see.

  He realised it was the conveyor belt that transported phosphate ore from the existing Bou Craa mine site through to the port at Laâyoune, one which Mel’s documentation showed the new mine owners hoped to lease to transport their own ore – for a cost.

  The road arced in a sweeping curve and then followed the conveyor belt in a south-easterly direction, the steel towers of electricity pylons criss-crossing over the road, providing the power required to keep the conveyor running day and night.

  By the time the lights from the gantries overhanging the Bou Craa mine appeared on the horizon, the sun had disappeared and darkness enveloped the SUV on each side of the road.

  Dan had forgotten how suddenly night fell in the desert – there was no twilight, no easing into the night. He reached forward and turned off the air conditioning and buzzed down the window instead; already the temperature had dropped outside, and he knew he’d be grateful for the sweatshirt he’d bought at the airport.

  He slowed as he approached a junction in the road, a signpost indicating the new mine site was a further six miles away. He flicked the indicator, turned left, and bounced the vehicle over the unsealed road that bore the brunt of the construction trucks.

  He squinted as headlights appeared at a bend in the road ahead of him and another vehicle barrelled towards him at speed.

  ‘What the hell?’

  Dan swung the wheel and pulled over to the side of the road to let the other vehicle pass.

  As it did so, he noted it was a police car, its liveried panel work flashing past his window in an instant. A second vehicle followed in its wake, the driver’s face a mask of concentration in the reflection of the lead vehicle’s taillights.

  Dan swore as he realised it was a coroner’s vehicle.

  He pulled back onto the road and pressed the accelerator, the SUV powering along the rocky surface.

  Dan fought to stop the vehicle from sliding on the loose stones and gravel and cleared the distance to the camp in a couple of minutes.

  His heart sank at the sight of flashing blue lights in the car park for the accommodation, and he eased the SUV to a standstill, his breathing heavy.

  Two military vehicles had been parked to one side, soldiers mulling around smoking cigarettes, their faces fatigued.

  To their left, six forms lay still under sheets, while a second coroner’s vehicle eased away from the car park and headed towards the highway.

  Dan turned off the headlights and watched for a moment, working out the pecking order amongst the officials that milled about the site before pulling the keys from the ignition and wrapping his fingers around the door release.

  ‘Here goes nothing,’ he muttered, and stepped out into the night.

  CHAPTER 6

  With his height and obvious Western appearance, Dan had only taken a few steps when one of the soldiers noticed him and called out.

  ‘Who are you?’

  Dan held his hands up to placate the younger man and walked towards him. ‘I’m from Eastern Commercial Insurance,’ he said. ‘Two people are staying here – they work for us. Have you seen them? What’s going on?’

  The soldier’s posture relaxed, although his features were pained. He gestured to where his commanding officer stood talking with a high-ranking police officer. ‘You’d better talk to Captain Bassam,’ he said.

  Dan thanked him and strode towards the senior officials, repeating his credentials when he introduced himself.

  ‘Captain Amjad Bassam,’ said the army officer, shaking his hand, ‘and this is Farid Galal from the anti-terrorism unit.’

  ‘What’s going on?’ repeated Dan. ‘We have two employees staying here. I heard something about an attack on the camp?’

  ‘Mr Taylor,’ began Galal, ‘I regret to inform you that one of your employees, Benji van Wyk, was killed in the attack. There were many casualties.’ He gestured towards the line of bodies waiting to be taken away by the coroner. ‘I am very sorry.’

  ‘What about Anna Collins? Where is she?’

  Galal shifted uncomfortably and glanced at Bassam.

  ‘We don’t know,’ said the army captain. He jerked his head at his soldiers. ‘We’ve been searching the premises since it was declared safe. We haven’t found her.’

  Dan swallowed. ‘Do you think she was taken?’

  Bassam shrugged. ‘It’s too early to say.’

  ‘But if she isn’t here, she could have been kidnapped, right?’

  ‘Mr Taylor,’ said Galal. ‘Please, it is very early on in our investigation. The attack happened only a few hours ago. As Captain Bassam informed you, tt is too early to say.’

  Dan exhaled and ran his eyes over the small crowd gathered around the camp reception building. Several workers still wore their high-visibility shirts, and all looked distraught. Many sat in small groups, while two women who appeared to be camp staff wailed as their co-workers attempted to comfort them.

  ‘Who did this?’

  Galal glanced at Bassam before speaking. ‘It looks like the work of a Sahrawi militia,’ he began. He shrugged. ‘What can I say? It’s a problem for us. There are a lot of locals who don’t appreciate our funding of opportunities for people in this country and seize any chance to try to tip the balance.’

  Dan nodded and kept his thoughts to himself. Although he didn’t agree with the politics of the country, at least the policeman’s words went some way to explain the presence of the army.

  ‘Not Al Qaeda, then?’ he asked.

  Bassam shook his head. ‘Not in this area,’ he said. ‘They usually operate further north of here, closer to the refugee camps. Easier to recruit.’

  ‘Can I see Miss Collins’s accommodation, please?’ Dan said. ‘If you wouldn’t mind?’

  ‘We have already checked her room several times,’ said Bassam. ‘She hasn’t returned.’

  ‘I appreciate that,’ said Dan. ‘But there are potentially confidential company documents that may be lying around. I’d like to ensure that anything that belongs to Eastern Commercial is retrieved and recorded in a safe and proper manner.’

  He knew he sounded pompous and uncaring, but he had to see Anna’s r
oom for himself. He had to be sure that she wasn’t still in the camp, and if she had been kidnapped, he wanted to make sure no clues had been left behind as to her current whereabouts.

  Galal sighed. ‘I’ll go with you,’ he said. ‘Although I can assure you, you will find nothing.’

  ‘Thank you.’

  Dan shook Bassam’s hand in parting and followed Galal across the parking area to the reception building.

  He felt the eyes of the mine’s employees on him as he weaved his way through the small crowd, and kept his focus on the policeman’s back as they turned onto a narrow path.

  Spotlights had been set up along its length, and Dan’s attention was drawn to the bloodstains that spattered the path and concrete wall of the reception block.

  He swallowed. It had been a number of years since he’d seen carnage like this, and he’d managed to bury some of those memories. Now, he clenched his fists and concentrated on his breathing.

  The path ended, and the space opened out into a group of temporary bungalows that had been set apart by clever landscaping. It gave the accommodation an almost resort-like feel.

  ‘This is where guests of the mine stay,’ explained Galal. ‘The mine workers’ camp is in the other direction. A bit more basic, but...’ He shrugged.

  ‘Cost effective?’ Dan suggested.

  ‘Exactly.’

  ‘How many guests were staying here?’

  ‘Just Mr van Wyk and Miss Collins,’ said the policeman. ‘They arrived two weeks ago.’ He pointed at a bungalow halfway along. ‘That was Mr van Wyk’s.’

  Dan started towards it without waiting to be invited.

  ‘Mr Taylor, please,’ said Galal, hurrying to catch up. ‘There’s really no need. It’s not something I would wish you to see.’

  Dan reached the bottom of the steps that led up to the bungalow and glanced over his shoulder. ‘It’s okay. I think I should. My company will expect a full report from me.’

  He gave the policeman an apologetic smile and turned his attention back to the small building as he climbed the short flight of steps onto the wooden covered deck space.

  A forensic team was working under the light of a row of bright bulbs that shone from a mobile gantry, their voices muted as they carefully recorded all the evidence.

  Dan folded his arms across his chest, kept away from the body of van Wyk, and forced himself to concentrate.

  A bloodstain covered most of the floor area, pooling between the bare boards and across a reed mat that had been set beside the front door. Clothes lay strewn across the floor, and the bathroom had been ransacked.

  The forensic team had placed markers on the floor, where one of them was now crouched, using plastic bags to collect the spent bullet casings.

  ‘It is a terrible tragedy,’ murmured Galal. ‘I am sorry for your loss.’

  ‘Where are his things?’ asked Dan.

  ‘Things?’

  ‘He was here on business. Mobile phone, laptop computer. Things.’

  The policeman spoke in rapid Arabic to one of the forensic team, who shook his head.

  ‘No things,’ said Galal. ‘Maybe he left them at the mine office?’

  ‘Maybe,’ said Dan. He moved down the steps and cast his eyes around the accommodation area. ‘Which one is Miss Collins’s?’

  ‘This way.’

  Two more floodlights lit the area between the bungalows, and Dan noticed Galal’s men patrolling the perimeter, their weapons drawn.

  ‘How many men do you have here?’

  ‘About eight in total,’ said Galal. He shrugged. ‘It’s all my department could spare.’ He sighed. ‘It’s why we need this new mine,’ he added. ‘We need more funding to stop terrorist attacks like this from happening in our country.’

  Dan bit his tongue. There was no point starting an argument with the man about being an occupying force. Not when he needed him on his side until he found out what had happened to Anna.

  Instead he slowed his pace as the man indicated a bungalow at the end of the row, set aside from the rest.

  ‘I think Miss Collins valued her privacy,’ Galal said. ‘This is hers, away from everyone else.’ He indicated the empty buildings next to it. ‘No-one else is staying here at the moment.’

  The small building was abandoned, its position at the far end of the floodlights’ reach, and as Dan moved into the shadows and up the short flight of steps to the door, he shivered.

  The light in the room had been left on, fully displaying the damage that had been caused to the property.

  The bed had been overturned, and a suitcase had been emptied of its contents, the clothing strewn about the floor.

  Dan stepped over the threshold and made his way towards the door at the back of the room, pulled a cord to his right, and blinked as a bright light illuminated a small bathroom.

  Bare shelves lined the wall under a mirror that had been smashed, remnants of glass pooling in the basin below.

  Dan spun on his heel and stalked back to where Galal stood at the door, waiting.

  ‘I’d like to call my people,’ he said, extracting his mobile phone. ‘Do you mind?’

  ‘Of course not,’ said Galal. ‘You must.’

  ‘Can I take a look around afterwards? It’d help with my report,’ said Dan. ‘I’ll stay out of the way of your people.’

  The policeman looked troubled for a moment, then seemed to realise the quickest way of getting the Englishman away from the camp would be to comply.

  ‘Please, take as long as you need,’ he said eventually. ‘I’ll let my men know to assist you if you have any questions.’

  ‘Thank you,’ said Dan, and shook his hand. ‘I won’t be long.’

  ‘I must go,’ said Galal. ‘It is going to be a busy night.’

  He gave a curt nod and strode towards his men, who were patrolling in front of the accommodation opposite Anna’s bungalow.

  Dan noted where the second police patrol was and moved into the shadows before dialling Mel’s number.

  ‘It’s me,’ he began in a loud voice, well aware that Galal was still within earshot. ‘I’m at the mine camp. It’s terrible. Benji van Wyk is dead. No one knows where Anna Collins is. You’d better get Ludlow on the line. I’ve got no idea what to do.’ He ran a hand over his short hair and made sure he wore a worried expression on his face as Galal stole a glance his way.

  ‘Have you found her?’

  ‘Negative,’ said Dan, lowering his voice and keeping an eye on Galal as the man led his men away from the bungalows and back towards the reception area. ‘There are police and army here, and no-one’s seen her.’

  ‘Shit. You think she’s been kidnapped?’

  ‘The room’s been ransacked, but it looks like it’s been done out of spite. The only sign of a struggle is a broken mirror in the bathroom. I’d expect more damage if she was taken forcibly.’

  ‘That’s strange.’

  ‘What’s the current situation?’ David’s voice cut across Mel’s next question.

  ‘A forensic team is working in van Wyk’s room at the moment,’ Dan said. ‘Looks like they’ve abandoned Anna’s for the time being. She doesn’t seem to be a priority for them. They’ve got six dead bodies out front, and three coroner’s vehicles have already left the scene, so I’d imagine there are casualties at the hospital in Laâyoune to deal with as well.’

  ‘What’s your plan?’

  ‘I’m going to take a look around. There’s something not right about all this, but I can’t put my finger on it yet.’

  ‘Do you think the militants are still in the area?’ asked David.

  ‘Maybe. There’re police patrolling the perimeter of this part of the camp at the moment, but you know as well as I do that terrorists have a habit of hanging around in case they can cause more damage.’

  ‘Talk about being in the wrong place at the wrong time,’ said Mel. ‘All Anna was meant to be doing was investigating the mine company’s suppliers.’

  ‘I’m n
ot convinced,’ said Dan. ‘Van Wyk’s belongings have been ransacked. He was there on business, right? So, there should’ve been a laptop, phone – but there’s nothing there. And the police and army haven’t made any suggestions why. Anna’s room is the same – no sign of a computer. What sort of terrorist stops to steal a laptop?’

  ‘What are you thinking?’ asked Mel.

  ‘This wasn’t a case of wrong place, wrong time,’ said Dan. ‘Everyone else got shot to make it look like a random act of terrorism. This was a targeted attack. They were looking for Anna and Benji.’

  CHAPTER 7

  Galal barked an order at his men and sent six of them in the direction of the guest accommodation.

  When Galal had returned moments before without the Englishman in tow, Amjad Bassam had been furious.

  ‘He could be working for the media,’ he growled.

  The policeman had shaken his head. ‘No, he was asking the wrong sorts of questions,’ he argued. ‘And he’s not a decision-maker. He had to make a phone call to his superiors before I left him. He is of no harm to us.’

  The army captain had dropped the conversation and had returned to his own team as they worked through the crowd interviewing witnesses.

  Galal scratched absently at a mosquito bite on his forearm while his mind churned.

  The woman disappearing was unexpected – and a concern. It hadn’t been part of the original plan, and now that her colleague was dead, there was no way of telling where she was.

  The camp staff had confirmed both had arrived at the same time, and his men had already interviewed the driver who had dropped them off after their hurried exit from the mining company’s offices earlier that day.

  Anna Collins had certainly been at the camp at some point since her departure from the mine. The only question was, where was she now?

  He had sent his men to patrol the bungalows, aware that if he kept asking Taylor questions he could have aroused the man’s suspicions about what had really happened at the mine camp, choosing instead to give the man some space in the hope he’d find out where the woman might be.