‘Any fallout from the road block?’
Galal shook his head. ‘The rumour about the insurance man is that he is a wanted terrorist in Europe,’ he said. ‘He will be blamed for the cold-blooded killing of my men. The others will be well compensated.’
‘Good. Where is Amjad Bassam?’
Galal shrugged. ‘Still at the mine camp,’ he said. ‘They’re treating it as a militant attack.’ He chuckled. ‘Don’t worry, Gregori, no-one will know about your involvement.’
Abramov glared at the policeman. The man was presumptuous, and that made him dangerous. It meant he’d assume he was safe, and that Abramov in turn was untouchable.
Abramov assumed nothing. He planned, double-checked, and included for contingencies.
It ensured a thriving business, and in his line of work, reputation was everything.
He couldn’t afford mistakes.
Abramov exhaled. However, it was much easier to work in a corrupted country, where bribes were recognised as an efficient way to do business, and the people you hired had no compunction about killing to get the job done.
That said, he would have preferred that Galal had managed to kill the forensic accountant and her supposed colleague.
He hated loose ends.
He pulled his handkerchief from his shirt pocket, wiped his brow, and then punched another string of code into the laptop. Surely this time it would work.
His eyes flickered over the screen as a sequence ran its course, the algorithms seeking a way into the machine, probing for a clue to the information Abramov so desperately sought.
The digits and letters jumped down a line and then stopped, the cursor flashing expectantly.
He leaned back and swore.
Galal moved closer. ‘What’s the matter? What’s wrong?’
Abramov didn’t miss the note of panic in the other man’s voice. His Russian temper preceded his reputation, and he’d quickly established a reign of fear amongst those he employed.
He picked up the laptop, stood, and then launched the useless computer at the opposite wall.
The plastic outer casing splintered on impact, carving out a sizeable dent from the decades-old plasterwork and sending shards of stonework scattering over the floor.
The policeman moved back towards the window, his hands seeking out the sill, and tried to put more distance between himself and the Russian.
Abramov forced his breathing under control and rubbed his eyes before he turned and leaned his hands on the desk. ‘Tell me again how they escaped, Galal.’
His right hand moved from the desk to the gun, and he caressed his fingers over the grip. ‘What were there? Eight of you? Two of them?’
Galal’s Adam’s apple bobbed in his throat, and he took a step back. ‘We believe the insurance man saw the road block and chose to escape across country.’
‘He’s not an ‘insurance’ man,’ yelled Abramov.
‘Please,’ said Galal, holding his hands up, ‘tell me what I can do to help.’
The Russian swung his arm around and shot the Moroccan in the chest. ‘You can die,’ he said.
He watched dispassionately as the policeman’s body slumped to the floor, the man’s hand travelling to the gaping wound between his ribs.
Galal’s breath escaped his lips in a mottled gasp, blood flecking his chin as he stared at Abramov. His mouth worked, but no words came.
Abramov sighed, and aimed the gun at the policeman’s head. ‘Christ, you can’t even die properly,’ he muttered, and pulled the trigger.
He tucked the gun into his belt at the sound of running feet and turned as one of Galal’s men appeared at the doorway, his eyes wide as he stared at the body of his boss.
Abramov pointed at him. ‘Now you’re in charge,’ he snarled. ‘Clean this mess up, and tell your men their orders have changed. Don’t kill the woman when you find her. I need her alive.’
CHAPTER 16
Dan exhaled and leaned against the wall of the building that led into the alleyway in which he’d parked the SUV only six hours ago.
Anna remained in the car, rubbing sleep from her eyes as he’d told her to stay put while he checked their surroundings. He’d heard the clunk of the internal locking mechanism as he’d strode towards the quiet street and, not for the first time, had silently thanked the general for ensuring his daughter had basic security training.
Not that he’d relax. Not until she was safely out of the country and on that plane home.
His brow creased as he monitored the street.
A café owner swept the pavement outside his business, a low whistle carrying on the air, while to Dan’s left, other shopkeepers began pulling their display counters from doors, ready to begin the day’s trade.
While Anna had dozed fitfully, Dan had made a mental list of what they would need to complete their overland trip.
His plan was to buy their supplies from several businesses in the suburbs of Laâyoune – large purchases from any one store would mean their presence would be noted, and quite possibly passed onto Galal and his contacts.
While he observed the street growing busier as the trading hour drew near, Dan tried to recall everything he’d learnt about desert survival while in the British Army.
Water was an obvious essential. Food, less so – digesting food used up valuable moisture from a person’s body, so he figured they could reduce their food intake with little discomfort. He planned to buy energy bars if he could: lightweight snacks as a back-up.
He’d found an ATM soon after entering the city and extracted as much cash as he could before driving for another hour to a suburb on the opposite side of the sprawling metropolis to park the vehicle overnight.
When Anna had queried the manoeuvre, he’d explained that if Galal was monitoring their movements, then a large cash withdrawal from a bank would immediately draw his attention – and Dan wanted to be a long way from that location before they could be found.
Dan’s head jerked to the left at a shout from further along the street, and then his shoulders relaxed as he saw the café owner hold up his hand to a neighbouring business owner. Loud banter ensued before the man waved and turned back to his shop and flipped the sign on the door to “Open.”
Dan glanced over his shoulder.
Anna’s eyes were wide as she watched him through the windscreen.
He smiled and gave her a thumbs-up, then turned and began to walk towards the café.
He’d already decided against using his broken Arabic to buy their supplies; the locals used a different form of the dialect, with some of the older generation maintaining Spanish as a second language – a trait from past colonial days. Dan figured it was simpler to stick to English and point to what he needed. He realised it would single him out further should Galal’s contacts sweep the area in search of himself and Anna, but it was a quicker process, and one that meant they’d be on their way out of the city sooner.
He entered the café, nodded to the owner, and was relieved to see a glass-fronted refrigerator near the counter. He pulled out eight of the two-litre sized water bottles, put them on the counter and raised his eyebrow at the owner.
‘How much are these?’
The owner frowned, shook his head, and then reached out for a scrap of paper and a pen next to the cash register. He scribbled on it, turned the page round to face Dan, and stabbed his finger at the amount he’d written down.
Dan chuckled, shook his head, and held out his hand for the pen.
The café owner scowled but acquiesced.
Dan wrote down a lower figure and pointed at it.
The café owner’s bottom lip jutted out, but then he shrugged and nodded.
Dan grinned and handed over the cash. He pointed at an empty box that stood on the floor next to the owner’s feet. ‘Can I have that, please?’
The owner bent down and picked up the box, shoved it across the counter at Dan, then stood with his arms across his chest.
Dan sighed. Small
victories, he reminded himself. ‘Thanks,’ he said.
He loaded the bottles, then took the box and exited the café, checking the street as the door swung shut behind him.
The area was clear, no sign of anyone monitoring his movements, and the only pedestrians within his line of vision were the business owners he’d spotted before entering the café and a handful of early morning customers like himself.
He walked back to the SUV at a brisk pace, not too fast – just a Westerner returning to his accommodation with the day’s supply of water.
Anna leaned forward across the dashboard as he rounded the corner and entered the alleyway. Before he reached the vehicle, she’d unlocked the doors once more, and he pushed the box of water bottles onto the back seat.
Climbing behind the wheel, he checked the mirrors and started the engine.
‘Anyone show up while I was gone?’
‘No,’ said Anna.
She sounded out of breath, and her face was pale once more.
‘Hang in there,’ he said.
‘I wasn’t sure you’d come back.’ She shook her head. ‘Stupid, I know.’
‘It’s okay to be scared,’ said Dan. ‘It’ll keep you alert. But don’t let your fear turn to panic.’ He smiled. ‘And by the way, I’d never leave you. You’re stuck with me.’
Anna managed a small smile. ‘Good.’
‘Right. Next stop.’
Dan braked as the vehicle exited the alleyway, then turned into the street and increased his speed. He tilted his wrist towards him, checking the time. He wanted to be out of the city before the larger businesses such as banks and the like opened their doors for the morning’s trade.
No doubt Galal would be seeking assistance from the banks to see if a large sum of money had been removed from an ATM that day, and Dan had no intention of being anywhere in the city when he found the information he sought. Despite making his purchases several miles away from the cash machine, Dan preferred to err on the side of caution.
And therefore caution dictated he be the hell out of Laâyoune before nine o’clock.
He drummed his fingers on the steering wheel as he criss-crossed the streets, looking for a store that would sell the items he needed. He’d hoped to avoid the city centre, preferring to skirt around the smaller pockets of shops around the outer perimeter, but after half an hour of searching, he knew it was pointless.
‘We need a camping store,’ he said to Anna. ‘I want to buy some emergency supplies – water purification tablets, extra layers of clothing for us. Keep your eyes peeled.’
‘Okay.’
Anna sat up straighter in her seat, her eyes flickering over the shops they passed and down side streets as the road became more congested with traffic.
Dan ignored the sweat that began to tickle the back of his neck. The closer they got to the city centre, the more likely it was their vehicle would be spotted and reported.
A store on his side of the road caught his eye, and he braked suddenly, swinging the SUV next to the kerb.
Anna looked around, her eyes wide. ‘What is it? Is it them?’
‘Relax,’ said Dan, and pointed through the windscreen. ‘I need to go to that shop over there. Lock the doors again.’
‘Oh. Okay.’
‘Won’t be long.’
He slammed the car door and strode across the pavement towards the shop, its window display uniformly tidy and nondescript.
Pushing open the door, he was immediately struck by the silence in the space, which offered an almost cocoon-like sanctuary from the noise and heat outside.
An elderly man shuffled out from a back room at the sound of a bell above the door, his hands clasped in front of him.
Dan pointed towards the mannequins in the window display and then pointed at himself before indicating a shorter person.
The man’s brow furrowed, and then he held up a finger and smiled. He nodded and beckoned Dan towards the counter, where he dragged out two pre-packaged black robes, one an extra-large size from what Dan could make of the labels, and one a petite size.
Dan nodded and indicated he’d take both. A similar transaction to that for more water bottles ensued, and five minutes later Dan hammered on the window of the SUV.
Anna jumped in her seat before reaching out and releasing the locks. She frowned when Dan handed her the packages.
‘Black? I would’ve thought white would have been a better colour in this heat.’
Dan started the engine and pulled away from the kerb before turning the vehicle down the first side street he could, happier to be away from the main road and prying eyes.
‘White reflects heat,’ he explained. ‘Black absorbs it – and your body’s own heat, so it’s a cooler option. Especially away from the city and any shade. If we do have to get out of the vehicle for any reason, covering yourself from head to toe in black material is a much better option.’
Anna gazed out of the window. ‘I forgot you were in Iraq.’
‘It was a long time ago.’
‘But you haven’t forgotten.’
‘No. I learned a lot from the locals,’ Dan said. ‘We all did.’
Ten minutes later, he finally found the camping store he’d been seeking and bought the last of the supplies.
As he started the engine for the last time, he peered across the seats at Anna. ‘Last chance to say no.’
He saw her swallow, and she appeared to gauge her response before answering.
‘Given the alternative, I’d rather take my chances,’ she said at last. ‘If we don’t get out of this country and tell the UK government what’s going on down here, no-one else will.’ Her face fell. ‘Not now that Benji is dead.’
Dan slipped his sunglasses over his eyes. ‘Ready?’
Anna nodded. ‘Let’s get out of here.’
‘Copy that.’
CHAPTER 17
Dan pointed the SUV in the direction of one of the north-eastern suburbs of Laâyoune and weaved the vehicle through the side streets, avoiding main roads wherever he could. The inhabitants of the city were arriving at work, and he was fifteen minutes over his self-imposed deadline.
Within minutes, phones would start ringing in busy offices, questions would be asked, bribes would be taken, and he and Anna would become easy targets if they remained in the area for much longer.
He found a road leading directly north, the residential area becoming more and more sparse before the city finally spat them out of its clutches.
They’d been driving on dust and dirt for the past mile, and once the city had become a speck in his rear view mirrors, Dan finally relaxed his hands on the steering wheel and let the vehicle suspension take the strain of the uneven surface.
Anna picked up on his mood and sighed. ‘I didn’t think we’d ever get away,’ she said.
‘It’s still early,’ said Dan, ‘so with any luck it’ll take them a few hours to pick up our trail. I want to put as much distance between them and us while we still can. It’ll be too dangerous to drive overland at night, so we’ll keep going as long as possible and then try to find somewhere we can hide the vehicle.’
‘I can drive for a bit if you want.’
Dan nodded. Anna’s father had a large ranch in the Arizona desert, and from an early age Anna had learned how to handle the four-wheel drive vehicles the farmhands used to manage the property.
‘Be my guest. Two hours each?’
‘Sure.’
Dan shuffled in his seat, got his long legs comfortable in the foot well, and thanked David’s foresight in hiring a vehicle with an automatic transmission. Driving a manual over the uneven terrain would have been exhausting.
‘How did you end up working in Rotterdam?’ he asked. ‘Last time I saw you, you still had a year to go at university.’
Anna smiled. ‘Yeah, and by the end of it I decided if I was going to be an accountant, I wanted some excitement with it.’ She bounced her fist off the window. ‘I didn’t expect this, though,’ sh
e added as she stared out at the bleak landscape passing them.
Dan could see that it’d take a long time for her to recover from what she’d been through the previous day, and he pressed on, hoping it would help her to talk about it. From personal experience, he knew it would do her no good to bottle up her feelings, and Anna was well aware of the demons he’d battled in the past.
‘So,’ he said. ‘How did you end up in Western Sahara? I mean, I know you got a call from the mine development company’s insurers, but surely you could’ve carried out your investigation from your office.’
‘Only up to a point.’ Anna brought her knees up to her chin and wrapped her arms around them, kicked her shoes off, and curled her toes. ‘Like I said when we spoke to David and Mel, the Internet access here in Western Sahara is atrocious. We’re only an hour ahead of them in The Netherlands, but the insurer was becoming more and more frustrated at the length of time it was taking to conduct the investigation – they needed fast results; their client was waiting to be reimbursed, and at the same time its head office in Houston was being investigated by the FBI to make sure nothing untoward happened at that end.’
‘Had it?’
‘No. They were clean. It was definitely a remote attack, but somehow linked to the new mine here.’
‘What happened next?’
‘My boss caved in – agreed with the client to send Benji and me down here to see if we could speed up the investigation by auditing the in-house systems.’ She sniffed. ‘Benji was a computer whizz-kid. They’d employed him even before he’d left university – he worked part-time for them until he graduated. If anyone could find out where that money went, it was him.’
‘What was your role?’
‘To collate the information in such a way that it could be audited and verified,’ she said. ‘It falls to me to decide whether the insurance client reimburses the mine development company, or whether we decide that they were negligible in their actions and therefore responsible for the missing money.’
‘How did it go missing?’
Behind the Wire (A Dan Taylor thriller) Page 8