Deadfall: Agent 21

by Ryan, Chris

  17

  KNOW YOUR ENEMY

  All four of them slipped inside the camp and Zak immediately heard the sound of wailing.

  There was a crowd of young people 100 metres to his twelve o’clock. They formed two distinct groups. The worker-children – there were about thirty of them – were on their knees. They were lined up with their backs against the wall of one of the huts. They were the ones wailing, of course. It was a horrible, low moan, like the hum of insects somewhere on the edge of Zak’s hearing. The sound of terror.

  The second group was made up of East Side Boys. Zak instinctively counted them out: it was crucial to know your enemy. There were six of them. He wondered for a moment if there were any others hidden elsewhere in the camp, but somehow he didn’t think so. Latifah confirmed his suspicion. ‘They said there would be eight in all,’ she whispered. ‘That is all of them.’

  None of them had noticed the newcomers. They were not well organized and there seemed to be an argument going on. The East Side Boys, with their mismatched clothes and cruelly scarred faces, all seemed to be crowding round one of their number and a few were shouting instructions. None of them, to Zak’s surprise, seemed to be armed.

  ‘Stand back, you two,’ Gabs breathed. She and Raf stepped in front of Zak and Latifah. Gabs held the weapon she had confiscated from the guards. The butt of the assault rifle was pressed into her shoulder. She didn’t hold it with the arrogant swagger with which Zak had seen the East Side Boys brandish their guns. She held it like a pro.

  The wailing of the children continued. Zak saw one youngster – he couldn’t tell from this distance if it was a boy or a girl – with their head in their hands, crying.

  Movement among the East Side Boys. They thinned out, to reveal one kid at their centre. Zak immediately recognized him – he had been in the room when Cruz and Sudiq had stuffed him into his wooden coffin. Cruz had called him Smiler.

  ‘I know that one,’ Latifah whispered. ‘He . . . he let me escape . . .’

  Smiler was the youngest of them by far. He looked miserable. Unlike the other East Side Boys he carried a weapon. And unlike Gabs, he didn’t hold it like a pro. More like a live snake. But his finger was on the trigger and now he was pointing the weapon at the line of children up against the wall.

  Gabs said nothing, but Zak could hear her movements fluently. She seemed quite relaxed, but had suddenly altered the direction of her gun. She was preparing to take Smiler out.

  ‘Wait,’ Zak hissed.

  ‘Stay back, Zak,’ Gabs breathed.

  ‘No!’ He stepped out in front of them. ‘I’ve met this guy before. He won’t do it. Trust me.’

  ‘He doesn’t have a choice, sweetie. I’m sorry, but neither do I . . .’

  As she spoke, one of the East Side Boys barked out a warning. The others all spun round to look at them.

  They were in a diamond formation now: Zak at one tip, looking back towards Raf and Gabs who kept their weapons trained on the East Side Boys. Latifah behind them.

  ‘I can talk him out of this,’ Zak said. He remembered the sickened expression little Smiler had on his face when Sudiq was forcing him to deal with Matilda’s corpse. ‘I know I can. You don’t have to shoot him.’

  Both Raf and Gabs had flinty expressions. Unconvinced expressions.

  ‘He’s just a kid,’ Zak breathed. ‘You have to let me try.’

  A pause. Then Gabs nodded.

  Zak spun round, then started walking forward. He was aware of Raf and Gabs flanking him.

  ‘Smiler!’ he shouted. ‘Put the gun down. We won’t hurt you, but you have to put the gun down first.’

  Distance between them: seventy-five metres. Zak could tell, even from here, that the boy was trembling.

  ‘I know you don’t want to do this, Smiler,’ Zak called, still moving towards the younger boy. ‘And you don’t have to. You’re not like the others. I can tell. You’re not a killer. Put the gun down. Put it down and we can make all this OK again. I promise.’

  Fifty metres.

  Smiler’s glance alternated between the group of East Side Boys who were surrounding him, and Zak. Zak saw him waver. The gun wobbled in his hands. His shoulders slumped . . .

  Suddenly, another of the East Side Boys moved, very fast. From somewhere among his clothes he had pulled a handgun. He pressed the butt up against Smiler’s head. An arrogant expression spread across his face.

  Zak and his companions stopped. ‘What’s this dude’s name?’ Zak whispered to Latifah.

  ‘I don’t know,’ Latifah replied. ‘I call him Kicker, but that’s just my nickname for him.’

  Kicker’s face threw out a challenge. Put your guns down, it seemed to say, or the kid dies . . .

  Zak started walking forward again. He knew he was gambling, and he didn’t like it. Surely Kicker understood that the moment he pulled that trigger, Raf and Gabs would open fire. He’d be dead before Smiler hit the ground.

  Or was he not bright enough – or too arrogant – to realize that his life hung by a thread?

  Gunfire.

  It came from Gabs’s weapon.

  Several of the captive children screamed. Zak nearly jumped out of his skin. For an awful moment, he expected to see a shower of blood. But he didn’t. Just a cloud of dust billowing up from the ground at Kicker’s feet, where a round had landed.

  All of a sudden, Kicker didn’t seem so brave. He jumped back and his handgun fell to his side.

  Thirty metres.

  Smiler was still clutching the weapon. The other East Side Boys were edging back. Some of them looked like they would disperse at any moment. Others looked aggressive. The situation was still not defused.

  Twenty metres.

  The East Side Boys were looking desperate now. Their eyes flitted from left to right and many of them were flexing their fingers, ready for a fight they couldn’t have, because they were held at gunpoint.

  Smiler slowly turned. The gun turned with him. It was pointing in Zak’s direction.

  Zak’s heart stopped.

  But Smiler didn’t stop moving. The gun didn’t stop swinging round. Now it was pointing directly at the remaining East Side Boys. The closest of them was only five metres from Smiler’s position.

  The captive children had fallen completely silent. Now the only sound came from the East Side Boys themselves. It was a low murmur, with an undertone of fear and indecision – they didn’t know what to do.

  Ten metres.

  Zak, Raf, Gabs and Latifah stopped. The eyes of everybody else in the camp were on them.

  A moment of tense silence. A bird called somewhere overhead. It sounded louder than it should.

  ‘Are you going to kill them?’ Latifah breathed, quietly enough that only her new friends could hear.

  Another pause.

  ‘That’s not really the way we operate, sweetie,’ said Gabs. ‘They might be messed up, but they’re still just kids.’ She glanced at Raf. ‘But we do need to think what to do with these guys. If we set them free, they’ll only regroup and come at us again.’

  Raf had steel in his eyes and Zak couldn’t help thinking that he had a more terminal solution in mind.

  ‘I’ve got an idea,’ Zak said.

  ‘I’m all ears, sweetie,’ Gabs replied. Her mouth barely moved as she spoke.

  Zak stepped over to Smiler. Now all eyes were on him alone. One of the captive kids was still sobbing, but they had mostly fallen silent. ‘Give me the gun, mate,’ he said. ‘Then go over there and stand behind my friends. They’ll make sure you stay safe.’

  Smiler swallowed. He looked reluctant to let go of his gun.

  ‘Trust me, Smiler. Look at these boys. They’ll kill you if they get their hands on that weapon.’

  The barrel of the rifle dropped a couple of centimetres. Zak stretched out one hand and grabbed it.

  Sudden movement from the East Side Boys. One of them – it was Kicker – was darting towards Zak and Smiler.

  A massive ba
ng as Gabs immediately let loose a round from her weapon.

  Kicker hit the ground.

  A groan from the East Side Boys. For a shocked instant, Zak thought Gabs had killed him. But there was no blood. Kicker was still alive. The bullet had hit the ground perfectly in front of him. He’d dropped to the dirt in surprise and terror.

  Smiler let go of his rifle, leaving it in Zak’s grasp. Then he scurried the ten metres back to where Latifah was standing. Like everyone else in the camp, he stared at Zak.

  Holding the weapon as professionally as Gabs held hers, Zak turned to the group of East Side Boys.

  ‘Take your clothes off,’ he shouted.

  Nobody moved.

  Zak gave Gabs and Raf a sideways glance. Gabs had a sly smile. ‘You heard him,’ she called. ‘Strip.’

  All of a sudden, these aggressive East Side Boys looked like surly, scolded children. Half-heartedly, they each removed a single item of clothing – a bandanna, maybe, or at best a khaki jacket. They dropped the clothes on the floor in front of them, casting sidelong glances at each other. Then, chins jutted out, they looked back at Zak.

  ‘All your clothes,’ Zak said. He raised the rifle slightly to emphasize his point.

  If the situation wasn’t so serious, it would have been funny. And that’s what Zak wanted; he wanted to embarrass them. The East Side Boys slowly stripped, casting mortified glances all around them as they did so. Within a minute they were standing among piles of clothes, all six of them wearing nothing but their underwear. It was amazing how, now that they were semi-naked, they looked a lot less scary. Zak even heard a giggle from one of the captive children behind him.

  ‘What do you think, sweetie?’ Gabs called. ‘Do we let them keep their pants?’

  Zak shook his head. He wanted them naked, because a naked kid in the jungle has more to think about than causing trouble for other people.

  ‘I don’t think so,’ he said with a frown. ‘Without their clothes, they’re totally harmless. If you can think of a better way that doesn’t involve bullets, I’m all ears.’ Gabs shrugged, so he turned back to the boys. ‘Lose them,’ he instructed.

  Steaming with embarrassment, the East Side Boys removed their underwear.

  Zak looked at Kicker. ‘Pick up all the clothes and put them in a pile, then step away,’ he said. ‘Now!’

  His eyes burning with shame, Kicker did as he was told. Moments later there was a pile of clothes on the ground. The East Side Boys, huddled in a group about ten metres away and covering themselves with their hands, couldn’t take their eyes off their clothes.

  Zak still had the little flask of fuel in his rucksack that they’d taken from Cruz’s aircraft. He un-stoppered it and sprinkled the remainder over the clothes. Then he set his lighter to the pile. It immediately whooshed up in flame. While it was burning, he looked through the shimmering haze above it, to the awkward, naked East Side Boys beyond. For a moment he felt sorry for them, but then he remembered what they’d been trying to make Smiler do.

  ‘Get out,’ he called across the fire. ‘Stay away from the camp and stay away from the river. If we see any of you ever again, we won’t be so lenient.’

  The humiliated East Side Boys started filing towards the exit. Without their warlike clothes and their weapons, they were just skin and bones. As they got closer to the exit, they started running. They clearly wanted to be out of there.

  And that suited Zak just fine.

  He felt himself relaxing. Gabs had lowered her gun. She had walked over to the trembling Smiler and had one hand lightly on his shoulder as she checked he was OK. Raf was heading over to the gate to relieve the unconscious guards of their clothes too. Latifah, however, was still a picture of anxiety. She tugged on Zak’s sleeve. ‘We can’t wait,’ she said urgently. ‘We have to follow Señor Martinez.’

  Zak blinked. ‘Why?’ he asked. ‘What’s happening?’

  Latifah’s lip wobbled. She looked like she was about to cry.

  Zak listened, stunned, to what she had to say next.

  18

  VODUN

  Zak, Raf and Gabs stared at Latifah in astonishment.

  ‘They’re trying to do what?’ Gabs exclaimed.

  ‘I . . . I’m sorry I didn’t tell you everything. I was just worried that you might leave the children in the camp in your hurry to go after Señor Martinez.’

  ‘Forget about that now,’ said Zak. He was standing in a group with Raf, Gabs and Latifah. Latifah seemed to be more comfortable talking with someone more her own age, so it was up to Zak to lead the conversation. ‘Let me get this straight. Cruz and Sudiq have more than a hundred heavily armed East Side Boys, and they want to bring down the president of The Gambia. Then they’re going to install Sudiq in his place. I mean, is that even possible?’

  ‘It depends what sort of army he has with him,’ Gabs said. ‘The situation in The Gambia is fluid at the moment. It’s just left the Commonwealth, and they’ve got a history of sudden regime change.’

  ‘I think there are at least one hundred East Side Boys,’ said Latifah. ‘All armed.’

  Raf looked grim. ‘You can do a lot with a hundred armed thugs. There have been coups in bigger African states than The Gambia, using fewer men than that.’

  ‘And in the meantime,’ Zak continued, ‘they’re going to mastermind some sort of atrocity against a tourist target in Banjul, to scare westerners out of the place.’

  ‘You forgot about Malcolm,’ Raf butted in helpfully.

  ‘Right. And they’ve got Malcolm, who they’re going to use to disable all communications in the capital.’

  Latifah nodded silently. ‘Does he really know how to do that?’ she asked.

  ‘You bet he does.’ Zak turned to his Guardian Angels. ‘We have to warn someone.’

  ‘Pass the phone,’ Raf scowled. ‘I’ll call 999.’

  They stared at each other.

  ‘What sort of a head start does he have on us?’ Gabs asked.

  ‘Three hours,’ Latifah said. ‘Maybe four.’

  Gabs cursed. ‘We could do with that helicopter,’ she muttered.

  ‘If the East Side Boys we just scared away were going to join them, there must be more boats down by the river,’ Zak said.

  ‘If we’re going to go, we need to go now,’ Raf added. He looked around at the other children. ‘They can’t come with us. Latifah, you need to stay here with them. We’ll leave you a weapon and I’ll show you how to use it. If any of those East Side Boys come back, you’ll need to defend yourself. As soon as we get to Banjul, we’ll get word to someone that you’re here. Can you look after these children?’

  Latifah nodded.

  Raf looked over at Smiler, who was sitting on the ground hugging his knees. He lowered his voice. ‘We should take him with us, though. He has the marks on his face and Cruz is expecting him. If we need to get close to Cruz, that could be useful.’

  ‘Don’t you think he’s gone through enough?’ Zak asked.

  ‘It doesn’t matter. This thing’s bigger than any of us. We’ll need to throw everything we have at it. We’ll need to take the coffin full of money too. How much did you say was in there, Latifah?’

  ‘Two million, three hundred and forty-six thousand, six hundred and twenty-five US dollars.’ Latifah recited the number like it was imprinted on her brain.

  ‘That’s a lot of dough, even for Cruz. He won’t want to lose it. The money and the kid could be our ticket to get in to see him, wherever he is. But we need to get moving. Gabs, spend fifteen minutes with the kids. Calm them down. I need to show Latifah her way round this AK-47.’ Raf turned to Zak. ‘Speak to Smiler,’ he said. ‘We need him on side.’

  ‘We’re asking a lot,’ Zak said.

  ‘Then you’d better be persuasive. Let’s get moving everyone. Time’s running out, and Cruz sure as hell isn’t going to wait for us.’

  Zak’s Guardian Angels strode off to attend to their business, so he hurried up to Smiler. ‘You OK, mate?’ he
asked.

  Smiler nodded, but he didn’t look OK. The wounds on his cheeks were inflamed and sore, but it was the haunted look on his face that gave him such a dejected air. Zak wondered what was going through Smiler’s head. Would he have shot those children if Zak hadn’t stopped him? Had he been on the point of no return?

  ‘What’s your real name?’ Zak asked. ‘I mean, you’re not really called Smiler, right?’

  Smiler shrugged. ‘My name is Kofi. But I prefer Smiler. It’s what my parents called me.’

  Zak put one hand on his shoulder. ‘You did a very brave thing back there, Smiler,’ he said. ‘Thank you.’

  Smiler didn’t reply, but Zak thought he perhaps looked a little better.

  Zak drew a deep breath. ‘We want you to come with us,’ he said. ‘I can’t guarantee you’ll be safe, and we know we can’t force you into it. We can leave you here if you want.’

  Smiler glanced down at his shoes.

  ‘The truth is,’ Zak continued, ‘I was hoping you could help us. Sudiq and Señor Martinez, they’ve got my friend. He didn’t want to be involved in this any more than you do. But sometimes . . .’ He gave a little shrug. ‘Sometimes, you don’t have the choice, right?’

  Smiler raised his head and looked straight at him.

  ‘I’m giving you the choice now, though,’ Zak said quietly. ‘You can stay here where it’s safe – well, safer – or you can help us stop them killing a lot of people. It’s up to you.’

  There was a moment of silence.

  ‘Did Sudiq really kill your mother and father, like Señor Martinez said?’ Smiler asked.

  Zak nodded.

  ‘So you have no family, like me?’

  Zak thought about that for a second. ‘Oh, I have family all right,’ he said finally. He pointed at Raf and Gabs. ‘They’re right here.’

  ‘The East Side Boys said they would be my family,’ said Smiler. ‘At first I thought that would be a good thing. But I’ve changed my mind.’ A hint of steel entered his expression. ‘If you can choose your family, so can I.’ He paused. ‘If I come with you, might I die?’