by Tony Park
‘Do it, Jed,’ Chris said.
It went against everything he stood for, his own personal moral code and the ethos of the organisation in which he served, but Jed drew back his arm and flung his rifle into the Zambezi River.
Chris did the same, watching where her weapon landed.
‘OK, let her go,’ Jed said to bin Zayid.
‘What do you think my brother would have done in this situation, Jed Banks?’
‘Let Miranda go.’ Jed’s voice was cool with menace as he took a pace towards his daughter.
‘Keep still! Both of you,’ Hassan barked. The mirth had vanished. ‘Tell me first, or have a guess.
What do you think my twin brother would do now? You should know, Banks, you met him.’
‘Your brother was a soldier. I didn’t agree with his cause or his methods, but I faced him down like a man, and he died like a man. I’d say that he would have abided by a deal he’d given his word on.’
Bin Zayid smiled. ‘Iqbal, that was my brother’s name, was a believer. He had the strength to do what needed to be done – not like me. I was soft, Jed Banks.’ His voice started to crack and he sucked in a sob before it manifested itself in tears. ‘I fell for your daughter, fell in love with her, because I was weak. I believed her lies and all along she was plotting against me and my family.’
‘Let her go. It’s over. You can leave.’
‘My brother, Banks, would have done this.’ Bin Zayid kicked Miranda behind one of her knees, forcing her to kneel. ‘And this!’ He put his boot in her back and drove her face-first to the dirt. He held the assault rifle, one-handed, and rested the barrel on Miranda’s back, on the rear of her heart.
‘Say goodbye to your little girl, Banks.’
‘Dad!’ Miranda cried.
Bin Zayid’s finger curled around the AK-47’s trigger. Chris and Jed started running towards him.
‘No!’ Jed yelled, knowing he could not make the distance before the Arab fired.
They all heard the gunshot, but none of them saw where it came from. Jed closed his eyes, slowing in midflight, unable to look at Miranda. Chris dropped to her knees.
Hassan bin Zayid felt the hammer blow of the bullet in his right shoulder and careened backwards, onto the ground, writhing in agony, screaming. The AK-47 fell from his hand, hit the ground barrel first and toppled over, out of his immediate reach.
Luke Scarborough yelled, ‘Freeze!’
‘Watch him! Give me the gun, Luke,’ Jed called. ‘Where the hell did you come from?’
Hassan rolled towards the fallen AK-47 and Luke, ignoring Jed’s surprise, fired two wildly aimed shots that both missed their mark. Hassan tried to wrap his hand around the barrel of the rifle, but his left arm had been shattered by the earlier wound from Banks. Miranda was in front of him, starting to crawl away The sharp tang of gasoline fumes filled the air.
‘Keep him covered and get over here,’ Jed said to Luke, who was still fifty metres away and advancing cautiously, the pistol held out in front of him. ‘Good shot, by the way, kid.’
‘I’d call us even now,’ Luke said, smiling, the adrenaline leaving him wide-eyed and jubilant.
‘He’s not dead yet,’ Jed cautioned.
‘Look out, he’s reaching for something!’ Chris yelled.
‘Miranda!’ Jed screamed. ‘Roll!’
Bin Zayid’s right hand emerged from his trouser pocket and, in one fluid move, he flipped open the silver cap of a Zippo and rolled the flint along the front of his load-bearing vest. The wick ignited and he tossed the flaming cigarette lighter at Miranda.
Her gasoline-soaked cocktail dress ignited with a whoosh and bin Zayid scrambled to his knees.
Miranda screamed and started to stand. Jed sprinted the remaining metres and hit his daughter hard, midsection, in a crushing football tackle that sent her sprawling and the two of them rolling in the sand. Jed wrapped his arms around her in a bear hug and they tumbled. He ignored the pain of the flames on his bare torso and arms, dimly aware of the smell of his own hair being scorched. Over and over they rolled as he pushed her towards the river. There was a hiss of steam as he finally felt the warm river water on his back. He submerged her and held her underwater until he was sure the flames were extinguished.
Luke emptied the pistol’s magazine at the fleeing figure of Hassan bin Zayid before Chris could stop him. None of the shots found their mark. ‘You’ll never hit him with that thing while he’s moving,’ she told him.
‘God, I’m sorry,’ he said, looking back at Jed and Miranda.
‘Don’t sweat it,’ Chris answered. ‘You probably saved our lives.’
Chapter 27
The burns on your daughter’s left arm and neck are bad, but she will live, Mr Banks,’ the Italian doctor assured Jed.
‘That’s the most important thing. Thanks, Doc.’
‘We’ve got a plasma IV going, and I’ve given her something for the pain. I am sure that with some surgery in America there will be little sign of scarring. Your African friend was in surgery when I left the hospital. My colleague said his signs were good. He is strong, and he is in good hands.’
Jed nodded. ‘Thanks, Doc. Can I see Miranda now, before she goes?’
‘Of course. The helicopter is on its way, but I presumed you would be travelling with her, to the hospital in Lusaka.’
‘No, I’ve got something else to do.’
‘Your burns are not as serious as your daughter’s but they need dressing.’
‘Later,’ Jed said.
Around them was a scene of escalating chaos. The Zimbabwean warden of Mana Pools National Park wanted to know what Willy Wylde and two of his employees were doing on the wrong side of the river in the middle of the night. A Zambian policeman argued with a park ranger, and a siren wailed from another approaching police launch. From upriver came the clatter of a helicopter.
Luke was talking to Chris. ‘I heard the gunshots from the river, and the boats. I grabbed the pistol I took off this guy who tried to mug me in Zanzibar, and ran down to the bank. That’s when I saw you guys and bin Zayid pull in.’
Jed ignored them all for the moment and walked over to the stretcher on which Miranda lay ‘Can you hear me, baby?’
‘I’m sorry, Daddy, so sorry,’ Miranda said groggily through the fog of medication. ‘Don’t leave me …’
‘I’ll be with you soon, baby. Everything’s going to be all right now. They’re taking you to the hospital. Chris will be with you.’ He swallowed hard, barely able to hold back tears as he thought about how close he’d been to losing her.
‘Tell her … tell her, sorry …’ Miranda closed her eyes, but Jed saw the rhythmic rise and fall of her chest as he took her hand in his. He bent over her and kissed her gently on the cheek.
Jed felt a blast of rotor wash-blown sand on his back and shielded his eyes as he turned. Another Huey helicopter, the same model as the one which had been shot out of the sky, touched down. Jed looked up and saw the grey-haired figure of General Donald Calvert jogging out, bent at the waist.
Behind him was Harold Jones.
‘Are you Banks?’ the general called over the roar of the engine. His neck was wrapped in a bloodstained field dressing.
‘Yes, sir, General,’ Jed said.
‘I ain’t a general any more, Master Sergeant. You can call me Donald. However, my friends, and I hope I can count you and your lady friend in that company, call me Crusher.’ The older man extended a hand and Jed shook it.
‘I thought you’d be in hospital by now, General… Crusher.’
Calvert smiled and touched his neck. ‘I was on my way – that is, until reports started coming in about your little pursuit here. I figured we might need to keep this helo on stand-by, in case there were any more wounded.’
‘You were right about that.’
‘How’s your daughter? Ms Wallis filled me in on the whole thing via satellite phone.’
‘She’s going to be fine, according to the doctor.
’
‘Hell of a diplomatic mess, but at least those terrorist bastards didn’t get what they came for.’
Jed thought that the deaths of the secret service and CIA agents, the Zambian helicopter crewman and the pilot of the general’s aircraft was still a pretty high butcher’s bill, but he held his tongue.
‘What news of the man who got away?’
‘He was carrying two gunshot wounds. Looked pretty unsteady, but he managed to get away on foot with his AK,’ Jed explained.
Chris arrived next to Calvert. ‘General, I’ve spoken to the US embassy in Lusaka. They’ll have some people meet you at the hospital and will stay with you until we can arrange a flight home. I really think you should get out of here as soon as possible, sir.’
‘Not without you, Master Sergeant Banks and his daughter, Ms Wallis,’ Calvert said.
‘Chris, look after Miranda for me, go with her,’ Jed said.
‘What do you mean?’ she asked. ‘No way, Jed, you’re not going off on another crusade. Leave bin Zayid to the local police. It’s out of our hands now.’
‘She’s right, Jed. Don’t make me give you an order,’ Calvert said.
Jed grinned back, though there was no humour in his eyes. ‘You can’t give me an order, Crusher.
Jones,’ he called to the CIA agent, ‘give me your MP-5.’
‘Can’t do that,’ Jones replied, shaking his head.
‘Jones has to look after the general, Jed. For God’s sake come with us!’ Chris barked. ‘You are not going to waltz off into the bush on a one-man suicide mission. Who do you think you are? This is real life, not the movies.’
‘I know, Chris. This is very real. There’s a wanted terrorist out there with a blood feud against me and my daughter. He won’t rest until one or both of us are dead. He was hit bad. Look at those policemen. They’re arguing jurisdictions while Hassan bin Zayid gets away.’
‘Chopper pilot’s signalling us, General,’ Jones said. ‘We really should get you and Ms Banks-
Lewis to hospital now, sir.’
The Italian medical team had carried Miranda on her stretcher to the helicopter and the Zambian crew chief was strapping her in. The doctor climbed aboard. The pilot waved frantically towards the knot of people gathered around Jed.
‘There speaks the voice of reason,’ Chris said over the increasingly noisy whine of the helicopter’s engine.
Luke had been hovering on the edge of the group, listening to and absorbing everything that was being said, a skill he’d perfected as a journalist. He still had the pistol he’d taken from the dead mugger in Zanzibar. He, too, was worried about bin Zayid’s escape. The man had tried to kill him once – who could say he wouldn’t be targeted again? He coughed and broke into the circle of people.
‘Here you go, Jed.’ He handed the American the pistol.
Jed looked at Scarborough. The boy had, to a large extent, been responsible for this whole mess.
No, that was wrong – the reporter had simply done his job. Miranda had spied on Hassan, fallen for him, and Jed had killed the terrorist’s brother. All the media had done was made sure everyone knew the truth – for better or worse. ‘You probably saved Miranda’s life, bursting in before like John Wayne, kid. Thanks,’ he said as he accepted the pistol. ‘You’ll have a hell of a story to write tomorrow.’
‘Hey, can I borrow someone’s satellite phone?’ Luke asked.
‘Don’t push it,’ Chris said. ‘General Calvert, Jones will escort you back to Lusaka.’
‘So, you’re going to let Banks go off on this wild-goose chase by himself?’ Calvert asked.
‘No, sir, I’m going with him,’ Chris said. Jed shot her an angry glance. ‘Oh, come on, Jed. I’m ex-
Army, CIA-trained and probably a better marksman than you are. Drag yourself out of the goddamned Dark Ages, for Christ’s sake.’
‘Sir, let’s go,’ Jones said.
‘All right, all right,’ Calvert said. ‘Jed, come with me. Don’t worry, I’m not going to force you onto the chopper at gunpoint, but I’ve got something you might need.’
Luke stopped Jed with a tap on his shoulder. ‘By the way, there’s no ammo left in that pistol I gave you.’
Jed smiled. ‘I know. I saw you empty the magazine at bin Zayid. But it did the trick. Thanks.’
‘Don’t mention it,’ Luke replied.
‘There’s a seat on the helo for you, too, Luke,’ Jed said as they walked.
‘I know and, believe me, I’m taking it. I’ve had enough gunfights to last a lifetime.’
The aircraft’s rotors were sending up a wall of dirt and twigs and leaves that stung Jed’s face as he approached the waiting aircraft. He stuck his head inside the cargo compartment. Miranda was asleep or passed out, but the Italian doctor smiled and raised a thumb to tell him she was not in danger.
Jed leaned over, brushed a strand of blonde hair from his daughter’s face and kissed her forehead.
‘Goodbye, baby I’ll come back for you soon,’ he said to her.
Crusher Calvert was inside the chopper, undoing a ratcheted nylon tie-down strap that held an assortment of bags. ‘They retrieved this stuff from the airplane,’ he yelled in Jed’s ear as he slid out a long black nylon carry case. Calvert unzipped the case and pulled out a hunting rifle and a box of ammunition. He handed both to Jed. ‘You might need this. It’s a Weatherby Mark V Safari, .300 calibre. Those are Weatherby Magnum rounds with a hollow-point solid copper Barnes projectile.
One of those’ll gut and wrap him in one easy movement, ready for shipping, boy Good luck. Only wish I was going with you.’
Jed took the weapon, checked it was clear by sliding back the bolt, and said, ‘Thanks, Crusher. I’ll bring it back in one piece.’
‘Bring it back with a notch on it.’
Jed saw that Chris was standing on her toes near the front crew door of the helicopter, talking to the pilot through his half-open window. She had her hands cupped around her mouth and he was holding up one side of his flight helmet to hear her better. The pilot gave a thumbs-up and Chris ran to Jed’s side.
‘Get in,’ she yelled in his ear.
He shook his head and made to leave the open cargo door of the chopper.
Chris punched him hard in the arm and screamed, ‘Get in, you jackass. I’m getting the pilot to give us a lift across the river to bin Zayid’s airfield. I’ve got an idea.’
Jed looked at her and saw she wasn’t trying to fool him. He suddenly remembered the ultralight aircraft parked in the hangar on the Arab’s property ‘You can fly?’
‘There’s a lot you don’t know about me, Jed. I learned to fly in the Sudan.’
‘I won’t ask what you were doing there.’
‘Good idea.’
They sat on the edge of the floor of the cargo compartment, their feet resting on the left skid. Jed opened the breech of the rifle, fed three rounds into the integral magazine, then chambered a fourth bullet. The helicopter crewman spoke into the microphone attached to the boom on his headset and the AB 205 lurched skywards.
The rush of air from the slipstream dried the sweat on Jed’s body Chris had her hands pressed against the aircraft floor. The wind snatched at her hair, tousling it. Even in these mad circumstances, with the threat of danger still very much present, he found he wanted her. It was more than sex; he wanted to be with her and to care for her. He held the rifle across his lap with one hand and placed his other on hers. She looked into his eyes and smiled. The river flashed beneath them, crossed in less time than it took to blink. They flew low and fast, to minimise the risk from ground fire in case there was anyone else lurking in the thick bush below. Bin Zayid’s landing field was a scar of grey in the moonlight. The nose of the chopper flared up as the pilot brought her in. Jed and Chris stood on the skids, ready to hop off as soon as they touched down.
‘Good hunting! Come back safe, the pair of you,’ Calvert said to them.
They crouched on the short-cropped grass an
d shielded their faces as the helicopter departed.
Once more there was silence.
‘I’m betting the ultralight was part of some backup plan,’ Chris said as she strode to the hangar.
‘Makes sense.’ Jed instinctively kept the hunting rifle up, in his shoulder. He had the night-vision monocle on and he peered into the gloom of the hangar. ‘Let me check for booby traps.’
Chris waited while Jed scanned under, inside and around the little aircraft. ‘Looks clear.’
‘Help me push it out,’ she said.
They wheeled the ultralight out of the hangar and Chris began a pre-flight check. ‘The helicopter pilot will refuel and return once he’s dropped off Miranda and the general. He will bring some reinforcements – marines from the US embassy in Lusaka. If we can find bin Zayid all we need to do is keep him in sight until the helo returns. The marines can pick him up.’
‘You’re the boss,’ Jed said as he checked the rifle and scope once more. Despite what Chris had said, he planned to kill bin Zayid as soon as he had a clear shot. ‘Did I ever tell you I’m scared of flying?’
She stopped, hands on hips, and looked at him. ‘You’re kidding, right?’
Jed shook his head. ‘It terrifies me more than facing hostile fire.’
‘Well, you might get some of that, too, if bin Zayid’s still capable. Harden the fuck up, soldier, and climb aboard.’
‘Yes, ma’am,’ he said.
Chapter 28
‘It’s me,’ Hassan said into the portable sat phone he had carried with him in his chest rig.
‘This is not part of the plan. Why are you calling?’ The voice on the other end was panicky, angry.
‘The target is down, but not with me,’ bin Zayid confessed.
‘You have failed. You sound bad. Are you wounded?’
‘Yes. I need you to pick me up, in your boat.’
‘That was not part of the plan.’
Hassan choked back a sob. Whether it was from the pain and shock of his wounds, or the growing sense of helplessness he felt, he wasn’t sure. ‘Please,’ he croaked.
