by Chris Ryan
He didn’t need to reply. He knew what she was warning him about. Only three of the guards had appeared. There was a fourth – probably the guy she had hit in the face with a stone. He was armed, he would be angry, and he could appear around that corner at any minute.
‘Max!’ Abby repeated. He looked over at her. She put one hand in her pocket, pulled out another stone and threw it to him. Max caught it one-handed and ran back up to the corner of the side street. He crouched down, listening hard for footsteps. There was none. Quickly, he took off his bandana, unwrapped it and placed the stone in the centre. He folded the bandana in half, rolled it up, folded it again and held it by the two ends.
He crouched and waited. Back along the street, in his peripheral vision, he could see that Abby had one of the assault rifles and was aiming it at the three gang members while Sami, Lukas and Lili secured their wrists behind their backs. They had the situation under control. Max’s job was to put the fourth guy out of action.
He stayed very still and listened very hard. There was still no sound of footsteps. But then, suddenly, he saw a shadow cast by the bright moon. It was long and clear, and it indicated someone approaching the corner where Max was crouching. The person was hugging the wall, and Max could see from the shape of the shadow that he held a weapon engaged in the firing position.
Max held his breath. He could hear the guard’s breathing. He estimated that he was immediately around the corner, pressed against the wall like Max was, waiting for his moment to turn and fire.
Five seconds passed.
Ten.
The movement, when it came, was sudden and fast. The guard turned the corner, ready to take a shot. But he clearly wasn’t expecting Max to be crouching there. Max wasn’t even sure that he’d seen him. Max swung the bandana as hard as he could. The stone slammed against the guard’s right kneecap. Max heard it crack first, then the guard’s leg buckled. He cried out in pain, but didn’t fall. Max saw with horror that the guard still had his weapon engaged and was aiming it at the other cadets.
Max’s next move was instinctive. He raised his left hand to push the stock of the weapon so that it was pointing upwards. With his right hand he swung the bandana – even harder this time – against the guard’s right knee again.
Three things happened. The guard screamed in agony. He fired a burst of rounds harmlessly into the air, then collapsed to his knees.
Max had a momentary advantage. He dropped the bandana, then stood up and grabbed the stock of the weapon with two hands. He kicked the man in the chest. The man let go of his weapon. Max spun it so the barrel pointed at his adversary. ‘Get on the ground,’ he said.
The guy probably didn’t speak English, but he certainly seemed to understand what Max meant. He glared up at him. For the first time, Max noticed he had a red welt on the side of his face where Abby’s stone had hit him. He lay on the ground, face down.
In an instant Lili was there, gripping a cable tie. She jumped onto the man’s back, grabbed his wrists and tied them together. Sweat ran down her face, and Max was breathless. ‘What do we do with them?’ he whispered urgently.
Lili’s expression was steely. ‘We take them with us,’ she said. ‘Try to lock them up somewhere. Otherwise they’ll just raise the alarm.’
She stood up and said something in Portuguese to the guy on the ground. He struggled to his feet, unable to keep his eyes off Max, who continued to hold him at gunpoint. Max looked over his shoulder to see that Abby, Sami and Lukas had also confiscated their opponents’ weapons and the gang members were groggily standing up. Max’s friends urged their captives over to where he and Lili were standing.
‘What about these?’ Lukas said, indicating the weapons four of them were now carrying. ‘Hector said no firearms, remember?’
Lukas was right. But they’d seen the kind of firepower they were up against. ‘I don’t think we have a choice,’ he said.
None of the cadets disagreed.
Lili peered out from the side street, back towards the building the guards had been protecting. ‘The coast is clear,’ she said. ‘We can enter the building if we hurry.’
‘Let’s move,’ Max said. He nudged his captive with the barrel of his weapon.
The Special Forces Cadets advanced to target.
12
Spray and Pray
They moved as a single unit.
Their captives went first, a line of four, hands behind their backs. Lukas was following, holding them at gunpoint. They could not see that he was also checking the first and second storeys of the building to ensure nobody was watching them. Sami and Abby covered left and right, scanning the area on either side of the target building, looking for threats, their fingers resting on the trigger guards as they’d been taught. Max walked backwards, checking for threats behind them.
The three youngsters they’d followed here had disappeared. Clearly being at the centre of Blue Command operations had spooked them. It took the cadets less than a minute to reach the building. Lili, who was unarmed and had been walking in the middle of the group, pushed past their hostages and tried the main door. It was unlocked. A slice of light emerged when she pushed it, but she didn’t want to risk entering without a weapon. She looked over at Max and nodded. He joined her, his weapon engaged and pointing at the entrance.
Lili held up three fingers.
Two fingers.
One.
Gently, she kicked the door open. Max stepped in and scanned the room with his rifle. Cracked tiles on the floor. Distressed walls. A strip light overhead. No personnel. Two doors: one to the left, one in the far wall.
‘Clear,’ he said.
The others hustled their captives inside. Abby quickly headed to the door on their left. She checked the room beyond. ‘It’s empty,’ she told the others. ‘We can put them in there.’
Sami and Lukas kept guard while Max, Lili and Abby moved the hostages into the room. Lili bound their legs with cable ties while Max kept them quiet at gunpoint. Once they were secured, Max said to Lili, ‘Find out where the hostage is.’
Lili nodded, then spoke to the guards in Portuguese. None of them answered. Max stepped up to the nearest hostage, put one foot on his chest and aimed the weapon at his head. That did the trick. The frightened man gabbled something in reply.
‘Second floor,’ Lili said. ‘Behind some kind of metal door – at least that’s what I think he said.’
They left the room and closed the door behind them. Abby crashed the butt of her rifle against the handle. ‘They won’t get out of there in a hurry to alert anyone,’ she said with satisfaction.
Max’s attention, though, was already on the far door. He moved stealthily towards it, aware of the others following. When he reached it, he listened hard. There were voices on the other side. They did not sound stressed or alarmed. There was certainly no indication that they realised the building had been infiltrated. But the voices were getting louder. People were approaching.
He tried to determine how many there were. He could clearly identify three, so he held three fingers in the air and stood to one side. Abby, Sami and Lukas knelt in a line facing the door. Lili, unarmed, crouched behind them.
They waited.
When the door opened, the sound of laughter drifted into the room. The three young men who entered were obviously sharing a joke. They were so distracted by it that they failed to react when they saw the cadets. By then it was too late. Max had his weapon pointed at them. The others had them covered from the front. Lili barked an order in Portuguese and they immediately hit the floor. It occurred to Max that they had no way of knowing that the cadets would never use their weapons on them. They were clearly terrified. They didn’t even struggle as Lili bound their wrists behind their backs, then tied their ankles together.
‘Lukas, watch them,’ Max said. Lukas’s eyes flashed. He didn’t like being told to stay behind. But he nodded and kept his weapon trained on the three men on the ground. Max, Sami, Abby and Lili walked a
long a corridor. There was a flight of stairs at the end. Max pointed his weapon up it and the others advanced to a half-landing. Max joined them, then covered them as they carried on to the first floor, before following them.
They were in another corridor. It was empty. Another flickering strip light. Ripped linoleum on the floor. Three closed doors were along the left-hand side. The one furthest away was covered by a metal grate bolted to the frame. The grate was locked with a heavy padlock.
Max turned to Abby. If anyone could pick that lock, it was her. ‘Can you get it open?’ he asked.
She didn’t reply. She simply handed Lili her weapon then ran lightly to the end of the corridor, where she removed the cartilage piercing from her ear, shaped it and inserted it into the lock. The others knelt down in the firing position, each covering one of the three doors. Sami took the first, Lili the second, Max the one with the grate. He was right by Abby.
There was silence, broken only by a scratching as Abby tried to pick the lock.
It wasn’t opening. She looked over her shoulder at Max, who saw she was sweating. He gave her what he hoped was an encouraging look, then felt foolish as she had already turned back to concentrate on the lock.
Thirty seconds passed.
The padlock clicked open.
Max found himself holding his breath.
Abby opened the grate. Max winced as its hinges squeaked. He glanced back at Sami and Lili, checking that the noise had not disturbed anyone in the other rooms. They were both still in position, motionless and apparently calm.
Once the grate was open, Abby put one hand to the door and gave Max an inquisitive look. With his weapon still engaged, Max nodded.
Slowly, quietly, Abby turned the handle and opened the door a crack. She had one finger to her lips, ready to warn the occupant of the room to keep as quiet as possible.
Then she jumped back.
The door had been yanked open on the other side and a high-pitched, aggressive scream emerged from the room. A figure burst out. He was tall and gangly. He had a cut on one cheek and a swollen black eye. His mouth was open, mid-yell. His eyes were wide, his bleached blond hair dishevelled. Max recognised Tommy, but he looked a lot less suave than he had in his photograph. He threw himself at Abby. Max was reminded of a feral cat throwing itself at a mouse, except this mouse was trained in unarmed combat. In one swift movement, Abby flung him over her shoulder. He landed flat on his back with a heavy thump.
Suddenly silent, he looked up at her. He turned his head to stare at Max. Then back at Abby.
Then he screamed again, like a maniac.
‘Shut him up!’ Max hissed. But Abby was already leaning down and pressing a hand over his mouth to stifle his scream.
It was too late.
There was activity in the other rooms. Voices shouting. Movement. Lili and Sami looked at each other. They nodded. Then each of them raised their weapons so that they were pointing just above their respective doorways. Max braced himself for the deafening sound of gunfire.
Sami and Lili fired in unison. Bullets ripped into the area above the lintels, throwing out a shower of debris. At the same time, Max and Abby pulled the boy to his feet. He struggled madly.
‘We’re getting you out of here,’ Max said.
‘Who are you?’
‘It doesn’t matter. Stop struggling and do what we say!’
‘How do I know you’re really here to help?’
‘We’re speaking English, aren’t we? Which I’m guessing is more than you can say for whoever gave you that black eye. So what do you say? You want to stay with the people who’ve been roughing you up, or take your chances with us?’
There was another sudden burst of shouting from the other rooms.
‘Tell you what,’ Abby said. ‘Don’t answer that. Just shut up and run.’ She took him by his right arm and dragged him back along the corridor, past Sami and Lili who still had their weapons pointed at the doors.
‘Go!’ Max urged them.
They didn’t have time to move before there was another burst of gunfire. This time, it came from inside the second room. The door splintered and bullets flew just above Sami’s head and embedded themselves in the wall behind him. Sami quickly rolled away, out of the line of fire, then released another burst of rounds above the door. Max knew it would only suppress the gunfire from within for a couple of seconds. He hurled himself back down the corridor, past the splintered door, Sami scampering behind. The four cadets and Tommy made it to the stairwell at the end of the corridor just as the second door opened.
‘Get downstairs!’ Max shouted. ‘They’re coming out!’
And they were. Three of them at least. In the moment before Max threw himself after the others down the stairs, he saw two Brazilian guys with bare chests, Blue Command bandanas and bandoliers of ammunition strapped around them. The third guy was fully dressed. He had very dark skin, wild hair, a tropical shirt and a chunky gold necklace. Max instantly recognised him as Guzman, the leader of Blue Command. He also recognised the Uzi 9mm submachine gun he carried in one hand. Max saw him raise the weapon, but he was charging down the stairs by the time Guzman opened fire. Max remembered Hector referring to the Uzi as a ‘spray and pray’ weapon: fiendishly dangerous at close quarters. He heard the gritty, machine-like sound of the weapon firing, and the ricochet of bullets pinging off the walls. Then he heard the heavy thump of footsteps as Guzman and his people sprinted down the corridor.
‘RUN!’ he barked. ‘THEY’RE COMING!’
The cadets took the rest of the stairs three or four at a time. Somehow, Abby managed to keep hold of Tommy. He was so gangly he looked like he might collapse in a heap, but she kept him upright as they descended.
Guzman and his guys were at the top of the stairwell. As the others carried on down, Max pressed his back against the wall of the half-landing and fired upwards. It was suppressive fire, not calculated to hit anyone, but to stop the enemy advancing and hopefully would buy them a few more seconds. Then he hurried after the others, followed by the sound of Guzman’s Uzi coughing out rounds at an alarming rate. The weapon sounded much closer than Max expected.
The four cadets and Tommy burst out of the stairwell onto the ground floor. Lukas was still there, guarding the three guys on the ground. He looked stressed. ‘Sirens,’ he said curtly. And over their footsteps and his panicked breathing, Max could indeed hear police sirens outside. He swore under his breath.
‘We have to get out of here,’ Sami said. Nobody argued. Staying in the building wasn’t an option. They had to flee into the streets of the favela, even if it meant risking coming into contact with the BOPE.
They ran to the exit, Abby still gripping Tommy. As they exited the building and spilled out onto the street, the source of the siren was immediately obvious. There was an armoured vehicle on the far side of the basketball court. Armed police were jumping out of it, a couple already down on their knees in the firing position.
‘This way,’ Lukas said. He ran to the left, towards a road leading downhill into the darkness. The others followed. Shots rang out. They ran faster out of the line of fire. Only when the high fence of the basketball court formed a barrier between the cadets and the police did Max dare to look back over his shoulder. Guzman and his guys were running out of the building. Guzman was screaming in anger, waving his weapon. He looked out of control and Max was glad of that: if the gang leader had been thinking calmly, he would surely have sprayed the Uzi in their direction and they’d be dead.
But he didn’t, and now they had reached the street. It was deserted. Dark. Anybody with any sense was indoors or far from the area. Max had never run so fast. The others were by his side. Even Tommy, although he looked terrified, managed to keep up. A little way along the road, Lukas dodged into a side alley. At first Max thought it was a massive mistake. It was a dead end and they’d be cornered. But then he saw what Lukas had seen: a metal staircase, like the one that had led up to the first floor of the safe house, only t
his gave access to the roof of a derelict building. The cadets sprinted up it, Abby urging Tommy to move as fast as possible.
Once they were up the staircase, they pressed themselves down against the roof, bathed in the light of the moon, but unseen from the street. Max’s heart thumped. It thumped even harder when he heard men running past below. Rough voices barked instructions. One was louder and more high-pitched than the others. Max wondered if that was Guzman. He crawled to the edge of the roof and looked down at the street. There was a railing that offered some camouflage. He peered down. Sure enough, he saw a group of gang members and BOPE officers below. Eleven men in all, and in the middle of them was Guzman, wild-haired and wild-eyed, waving his Uzi around and screaming angrily at an armed officer in body armour and balaclava. The armed officer stood still, taking Guzman’s reprimand without any apparent emotion. Guzman spat on the ground and turned his back on him. The officer turned to face the building and Max clearly saw, on the forehead of his balaclava, the Jackal’s silver insignia.
He found himself holding his breath.
Then his blood froze as the BOPE officer looked up.
For a moment, Max thought their eyes met. He did not dare move a muscle. Had the Jackal seen him? He was still looking up at the roof. Then he turned. Max quickly wriggled away from the edge, boiling with the fear that he might have given up their position. He found Sami lying next to him. ‘If they find us up here,’ he whispered sincerely, ‘they will kill us.’
Thanks for pointing that out, buddy, Max thought, but he kept silent.
A minute passed. Guzman’s screaming started again, then faded away. Sweating, Max rolled onto his back. ‘That,’ he said quietly, ‘was close.’
‘We’re not out of the woods yet,’ Abby said. Her voice was stressed and tense. None of them dared to stand. ‘We need to get to the rooftop of the school and call Hector for the chopper to pick us up. That means getting out of Blue Command territory, and they’re going to be looking for us.’