Behind the Wire (A Dan Taylor thriller)

by Rachel Amphlett

  ‘What if we can’t?’

  ‘Glass half full, Mitch,’ Dan murmured as he settled his eye against the rifle scope. ‘Glass half full.’

  He heard Mitch exhale and willed his heartbeat to calm.

  Through the lens of the scope, he could make out three black vehicles hurtling across the valley between the dunes, a cloud of dusty sand in their wake. Sunlight glinted off the windscreens as they turned into the line of dunes that concealed Dan and Mitch’s position, the vehicles’ rugged long-travel suspension allowing them to bounce easily over the small rocks that had thrown Mitch’s own vehicle around so badly.

  Dan swallowed, adrenalin beginning to flow through his veins. He fought down the sensation and tried to focus on his breathing instead.

  Silence stretched between the two men as each of them concentrated on their targets.

  ‘I’ve got clear line of sight on the driver of the first vehicle,’ said Mitch.

  ‘Take the shot.’

  Dan kept his eye pressed to the rifle scope as the report from Mitch’s weapon assaulted his hearing.

  A split second later, the windscreen of the first vehicle imploded, and the four-wheel drive swerved sharply to its left, careening out of control until it landed nose-first in a dune, facing away from Dan and Mitch’s position.

  As a second man stumbled out the passenger door, Mitch fired again, and then cursed.

  ‘Missed him. He’s gone to ground.’

  Dan didn’t answer. He was too busy concentrating on the second and third vehicles that were taking evasive manoeuvres, zig-zagging their way closer to the dune where he lay.

  Although Mitch’s shot had disabled one of the vehicles and killed one of their enemy, it had also alerted the rest of the Russians to their position.

  Dan fought down the urge to panic, his finger covering the trigger, and held his breath.

  He squeezed, the round exiting the rifle at subsonic speed, and the second vehicle ground to a halt as the shot blasted through the windscreen.

  The third vehicle slid to a standstill behind the second vehicle, the occupants using it to provide cover as they opened the doors.

  Mitch let loose a short burst from his rifle, sending the driver and passenger scurrying from their vehicle towards the back doors of the third.

  Dan heard his teammate emit a grunt of satisfaction as the passenger stumbled, then fell, clutching his leg.

  ‘I’m out.’

  Dan aimed at the chest of the fallen man as Mitch ejected the spent magazine from his rifle and reloaded. He hated to kill a man already injured, but he knew if he didn’t, Anna would surely die.

  He took the shot, a plume of red lifting into the air through his scope as the bullet found its target.

  He lifted his gaze to see the driver diving head-first into the back of the third vehicle, and then it was barrelling towards their position once more.

  ‘I still can’t see the guy from the first vehicle anywhere,’ said Mitch through gritted teeth.

  ‘Anna?’ Dan yelled over his shoulder. ‘There’s one unaccounted for. Keep your eyes open.’

  Anna’s shouted response carried up the dune.

  Dan ignored her and shifted the rifle’s position against his body. The last vehicle was close now, and he wanted to be able to manoeuvre quickly if he needed to.

  The driver of the vehicle slewed it to a halt at an angle several metres from the dune, and Dan realised they were planning to use it as a barricade.

  Sure enough, the doors on the far side opened, and the three occupants dropped to the ground.

  ‘What do you think?’ said Mitch.

  Dan exhaled. ‘One at the front, trying to use the engine block as cover. The other two will be more exposed. One at the rear end, one just behind the guy at the front, but still with less protection.’

  ‘Yeah, agree. Wonder what firepower they have?’

  The two men ducked as the Russian at the front of the four-wheel drive vehicle rose up, brought an assault rifle up to his chest, and fired.

  ‘And the answer to that would be – plenty,’ Mitch said.

  ‘Use short bursts to keep them down,’ said Dan. ‘I’ll see if I can pick them off. I’ll start with the two near the back, okay?’

  ‘Copy that.’

  They waited until the man stopped firing, expecting one of the other Russians to begin, but apart from single shots that fell short of their position, none did.

  ‘They must only have handguns,’ said Dan.

  ‘Go!’

  Mitch raised his head and began firing, short bursts that kicked up the sand around the front of the vehicle below their position, to make sure the Russian with the assault rifle stayed down.

  Dan waited a second, then steadied his breathing once more and aimed at the driver’s side door. He fired twice, knowing both shots from the large calibre weapon would pierce easily through the soft metal and upholstery of the four-wheel drive.

  The second round found its target, a cry echoing across the sand to where Dan lay, before the silhouette of a man’s body appeared below the vehicle.

  ‘Halfway there,’ murmured Mitch.

  Dan ignored him and lined up his next target.

  He cursed under his breath as a round scuffed up the sand next to him and forced himself to concentrate. If their pursuers were finding their range, he and Mitch were running out of time.

  ‘Fuck.’

  Dan exhaled as Mitch’s voice carried across the dune towards him. His finger caressed the trigger, and rounds exploded from the rifle towards the rear of the Russians’ vehicle.

  At the same time, Mitch fired at the front of the vehicle, keeping the other Russian pinned down where he could do no harm.

  The staccato bursts from the Russian’s assault rifle fell silent an instant before the shooter’s prone form collapsed within sight, his arms flailing in the sand at the front of the vehicle before he stilled.

  A moment later, Dan’s aim found its mark, a muted shout emanating from the rear of the vehicle, and the gunfire fell silent.

  Dan closed his eyes, removed his finger from the trigger, and wiped the sweat from his brow.

  ‘Good work,’ murmured Mitch.

  They both spun round at the sound of Anna’s scream.

  Below them, the Russian who had escaped the first vehicle snaked his arm around Anna’s neck and pressed the barrel of his gun to her temple.

  His voice carried up the dune with ease. ‘Where the fuck is my money?’

  CHAPTER 43

  ‘Cover me.’

  ‘He’ll shoot her.’

  ‘Not if I’m unarmed. I might be able to charm him out of it.’

  Mitch swore under his breath. ‘I can’t get a clear line of sight. You’ve got to get her to move away from him.’

  ‘Copy that.’

  Dan dropped his rifle, threw his handgun to one side, and slid down the dune away from Mitch towards the Russian and Anna, slowing his descent as best he could to avoid alarming her assailant further.

  He stopped several metres away, dug his boots into the sand to steady himself, and held up his hands, a plume of dust cascading down the dune to where Anna and her captive stood.

  ‘Let her go.’

  In response, the Russian snaked his arm tighter around Anna’s neck.

  She whimpered and tried to move her head away, but she was held firm.

  Dan avoided the urge to check over his shoulder and see what angle Mitch had on the Russian. By using Anna as a shield, the man was effectively blocking any shot Mitch could possibly take.

  The Russian nudged the radio clipped to his collar.

  ‘Mikhail? Mikhail?’

  A hiss of static burst from the device.

  ‘Mikhail is dead, pal,’ said Mitch, his voice carrying down the dune. ‘Along with the rest of your team.’

  ‘You lie!’ the Russian spat.

  Dan raised an eyebrow. ‘You think we’d be having such a convivial chat if your friends were still
firing at us?’ He jerked his thumb over his shoulder. ‘They’d be here by now, wouldn’t they?’

  He frowned as he felt movement beneath his feet, closely followed by a faint boom.

  ‘Drop your weapon!’ yelled Mitch.

  A sly smile crossed the Russian’s face, and he pressed the barrel of the gun tighter to Anna’s head.

  Dan tried to focus. Something wasn’t right; an almost musical tone filled the air for a split second and then faded.

  A frown creased the Russian’s brow, and his grip relaxed on Anna’s arm.

  Anna didn’t waste time. She drove her heel into the man’s instep, and he fell away, crying out in pain.

  A single crack passed the air next to Dan, and the next moment, the Russian dropped his gun as his hand flew to his arm, blood pouring from the bullet wound.

  The Russian’s eyes opened wide as he lifted his chin. His gaze travelled beyond Dan to where Mitch was standing, and his mouth fell open.

  Dan could see the fear in the man’s face as his mouth worked soundlessly. He kept his eyes on the Russian, but his mind was racing, even as the man raised his hand and pointed beyond Mitch’s position.

  Again, a boom reverberated off the dune, and for a fleeting moment he wondered if the Moroccan air force had scrambled jets nearby and the sonic rush of air was causing the noise.

  Then his geologist mind caught up, and his heart lurched at the same time the sand beneath his feet began to slide. He spun round.

  ‘Avalanche!’ he yelled as he saw the dune begin to collapse behind his teammate. ‘Mitch – get down from there!’

  He turned back to Anna. ‘Go!’

  He pointed beyond the parked four-wheel drive.

  Anna nodded and took off.

  Dan pivoted as Mitch tumbled into him, and the pair of them slid to the bottom of the dune, the sound of rushing sand at their heels.

  They overtook the Russian who was limping away as fast as he could, and as they caught up with Anna, Mitch reached out and grabbed her arm, pulling her along with them.

  They slid to a standstill several metres away and turned as one towards the dune.

  The collapse had already reached their vehicle, the weight of the sand tipping it at an unnatural angle, and showed no sign of slowing down.

  Beyond the vehicle, the Russian was stumbling, his hand covering the bullet wound to his arm. His escape was hindered by the ankle injury Anna had caused and the fact that he kept looking over his shoulder to check the avalanche’s progress. As he lurched forward once more, he tripped. He cried out, and his eyes found Dan’s.

  ‘Shit.’

  ‘Wait – where are you going?’ Mitch yelled.

  ‘He’s not going to make it,’ Dan called over his shoulder.

  ‘He’s not worth it!’

  Dan ignored him, pumped his arms and raced back across the sand to where the Russian had now stumbled, the man crawling as fast as he could. Despite everything, he couldn’t leave another man to die like this, not after all the lives he’d already taken to keep Anna safe.

  The fall of the avalanche had already reached the Russian’s feet and was quickly coating his legs in a fine dust, piling up around him. He desperately clawed at the encroaching sand, trying to pull himself free from the weight that was rapidly burying him alive.

  Dan dropped to his knees. ‘Give me your hand.’

  The Russian continued to sweep at the sand, and Dan realised if they didn’t move fast, he too would be buried.

  He reached out, grabbed the man under his arms, and pulled.

  The Russian swore and tried to kick his legs free, but the weight of the sand was too much. He looked up, and Dan saw the panic in his eyes.

  Dan pulled again, sweat pouring down his brow with the effort, ignoring the dust that was already covering his feet and swelling against his ankles, but the Russian’s legs remained trapped.

  Behind, he could hear Mitch and Anna yelling, and he raised his gaze to the dune they’d run from.

  The four-wheel drive was now buried, lost from view, and a second avalanche wave was tearing down the slope towards him.

  ‘Shit.’

  ‘Go.’

  Dan glanced down.

  The Russian was staring at him, his jaw clenched, his eyes resolute.

  Dan growled under his breath and lifted his chin to check the avalanche’s progress.

  It was too damn close.

  His attention jerked back to the Russian as a hand snaked around his calf muscle, and Dan’s eyebrows shot up as he saw the man was holding out a photograph to him, desperation in his eyes.

  ‘My daughter,’ he gasped. ‘Kozlow will kill her now. You have to stop him. Please, tell her I loved her.’

  Dan prised the photograph from the man’s fingers.

  In it, the Russian stood with his arms around the shoulders of a gangly teenager, both of them wrapped up warm in ski clothing, smiling for the camera.

  He tore his eyes away at the Russian’s next words.

  ‘Go!’

  Dan swallowed and nodded.

  He took one last look at the rising cloud of sand, made sure the photograph was tucked safely into his pocket, and then turned and ran.

  The bellow of the collapsing dune reached his ears as he forced himself to run faster, Mitch and Anna beckoning him to hurry, their voices lost in the cacophony that surrounded him.

  In his mind, he could feel the avalanche licking at his heels, eager to claim him as it surely had the Russian by now. Dan fought down the terror and cursed under his breath.

  Mitch and Anna remained where they were, only fifty or so metres away, and Dan checked over his shoulder before slowing to a stop.

  He leaned forward and rested his hands on his knees, his eyes flickering over the ground before him sightlessly.

  The blue sky had been obliterated, the air around him peppered with the sand that had been lifted with such incredible force from its original location.

  Now, an ominous silence blanketed the area. The rumbling from the dunes had ceased, the only sign that anything had happened being a slight settling of the sand around Dan’s feet.

  Grit filled his mouth, and he spat to one side and straightened.

  Mitch joined him, his arms crossed over his rifle. ‘We’d better check for signs of life, to be sure.’

  Dan nodded. ‘We have to wait a few minutes. In case there’s another collapse.’

  ‘Have you ever seen anything like that before?’

  Dan shook his head. ‘Only under controlled conditions.’ A shiver ran down his spine. ‘What a way to bloody go.’

  Anna joined them, her breathing ragged.

  Dan instinctively placed his arm around her shoulders, and the three of them stood for a moment, staring at the cloud of ochre-coloured dust as it slowly settled to the ground.

  ‘All right,’ said Dan. He sighed. ‘We’ll check on the Russian, then salvage what we can from the vehicle. We’ll take the Russians’ four-wheel drive from the front of the dune – if it hasn’t been buried as well.’

  They walked forward, three abreast, all of them wary of stumbling over the Russian’s body.

  Several metres from where they started, Dan found him: a dusty mound rising up from the new plain that had been carved out by the passing sand. The force of the avalanche had pushed the man’s body a long way from where Dan had tried to rescue him.

  Now, he crouched and gently rolled the man over, sand falling from the man’s mouth and nostrils. Dan reached out and placed his fingers against the man’s neck, even though he knew it was pointless.

  The man had been buried alive, his lungs full of sand, his petrified eyes wide and staring.

  Dan fought down the urge to gag and closed the man’s eyes before standing and brushing his hands on his jeans.

  Mitch circled the man’s prone form before lowering his weapon and turning to Dan. ‘So much for using your wit and charm.’

  Anna reached out for Dan.

  He gave her han
d a reassuring squeeze.

  ‘Is he dead?’

  ‘Yes,’ said Dan. ‘Now we just need to—’

  Anna held up her finger to silence him, then turned and jogged a few paces away before being violently sick.

  ‘Amazing, the effect you have on the ladies,’ murmured Mitch.

  ‘Piss off.’

  CHAPTER 44

  Dan pulled the last container of water from the back of the third vehicle abandoned by the now-dead Russians and carried it across to the four-wheel drive they intended to use.

  They’d wandered amongst the three damaged vehicles, Anna searching for any evidence she could use to prove her case against the Russian military enterpriser once she was back in Rotterdam, while Dan and Mitch sourced water and fuel for their onward journey.

  Mitch had used his smartphone to take photographs of the faces of each of the Russian mercenaries, so Mel would be able to pass on the details to the various secret service departments and their contacts. Six less armed assassins on the streets of Europe would be welcome news in some quarters of the establishment.

  Dan had briefly debated returning to Essaouria but had quickly discarded the thought, given they had no idea who else might be lying in wait for them, and the fact he still hadn’t found out who had destroyed his boat.

  Instead, he and Mitch had agreed upon a dash to the northern border with Ceuta, a Spanish-owned territory on the tip of the northern African continent. From there, they could catch an international flight out of the continent, and Anna could return to her home in the United States to be reunited with her family.

  ‘Ready?’ asked Mitch, surveying the supplies they’d stacked inside the vehicle.

  ‘That’ll do. We probably won’t need all of this, but at least it stops anyone else getting their hands on it.’

  ‘True.’

  Dan stood back as Mitch swung the back door closed, then opened the rear passenger door for Anna and climbed in next to her while Mitch slid behind the wheel and gunned the engine.

  As the vehicle began to bounce over the dunes towards their destination, Dan’s eyes wandered over Anna’s face and neck.

  Splatter from where Mitch had shot the now-dead Russian in the arm covered her pale skin, and she hadn’t said a word.