‘But if they do that, and start a war, that’ll weaken the whole region, and Al Qaeda will take advantage,’ said Anna.
‘So you’d end up with a messed-up situation like Syria,’ said Dan. ‘Western-backed Morocco on one side; a rebel force saying it’s taking back territory for the Sahrawi, even though we know it’s because the Russians will use them to get their own hands on the mineral assets Morocco holds; and Al Qaeda or Daesh grabbing territory for themselves. It’d be a disaster.’
Anna leaned on the table. ‘So, what do we do?’
Dan frowned. ‘Crawford said the Russians were here yesterday but have disappeared. We know Salim had to wait for instructions from someone and couldn’t do anything except hold us captive in the meantime. He’d already taken delivery of some weapons, which were destroyed by us.’ He tapped his fingers on the table, then stopped abruptly. ‘What if the Russians aren’t sending any more mercenaries?’
‘What do you mean?’
Dan checked Crawford’s progress at the bar, but the man was deep in conversation with someone else.
‘There’s another side to the mercenary business,’ said Dan. ‘Military enterprisers. They raise the cash for the client, put together the mercenary force, but let the commanding officer run the show. The enterpriser simply makes sure there’s enough money to go round.’
‘So you’re saying that Benji and I stumbled on the military enterpriser, not the mercenary group themselves?’ said Anna. ‘That makes sense.’ She drained the last of her beer, then paused as she put the empty bottle on the table. ‘Hang on. Crawford said the Russians arrived twenty-four hours ago and disappeared. If the Russians are the military enterprisers, why are they here?’
‘Checking on their investment?’ suggested Dan. ‘Except when they get to the fort, they’re going to find Salim dead, and us gone.’
‘How come we didn’t see them when we were driving here? The Polisario found us.’
‘Probably because we were following a well-known route,’ said Dan. ‘Remember the tracks we drove on? The Russians would take a diversion to get to the fort rather than a direct route. They’d be trying to avoid the Polisario.’
He sighed and finished his beer. ‘Just as well I can get you over the border tomorrow. It figures that money won’t be used to arm Salim and his men now, but it won’t be long before they raise another willing group of mercenaries to take his place. As Crawford said, there aren’t many other career options around here.’
CHAPTER 37
Abramov grimaced as his skull narrowly missed bouncing off the window next to him, threw a poisonous look at his driver, and turned his attention back to the caller on the other end of the line, his grip tightening on his phone.
‘Nikolai, I can assure you the funding will be in place soon,’ he soothed. ‘It’s a minor issue with one of our banking partners, that’s all.’
As the four-wheel drive vehicle ploughed through a series of hardened sand ruts, he shoved his feet into the foot well and switched his phone to his other hand so he could hold onto the strap that hung above the window.
He closed his eyes as the man at the other end berated him.
‘I’ve never let you down before,’ he said, keeping his voice even. ‘Have I?’
He resisted the urge to exhale as the arms dealer calmed down and instead pinched the bridge of his nose while he listed his requirements.
‘I know,’ he said as his order was questioned. ‘And you know what it’s like dealing with them, too. I’m taking charge now. There’ll be no more delegating until this is set in motion,’ he added. ‘I’ll be staying here to oversee the shipment when it arrives, and I’ll make sure it’s stored properly this time.’
His gaze fell to the door mirror.
The glow from the burning fort had disappeared from view, and so far they’d managed to avoid any contact from the Polisario forces that would surely be hunting for any survivors of the attack.
He knew it was dangerous to return to Mahbes, but it was the only place the Englishman and American woman could have headed towards – if they weren’t already lost to the desert.
He couldn’t rest until he knew for certain.
The arms dealer began reciting a list of what he could provide, and Abramov concentrated on the delivery details. His lips thinned as he listened, realising that the order wouldn’t be complete for another three weeks.
He frowned as the vehicle slowed and jerked his head round to ask the driver what was going on when he realised the man had received a call on his mobile and was speaking in muted tones, the phone tucked between his ear and shoulder as he kept the vehicle on course.
The sound of the arms dealer’s voice faded as Abramov saw his driver’s face pale. He turned to Abramov, his eyes wide.
He blinked, then handed the phone out. ‘You need to take this.’
‘Nikolai? I’m going to have to call you back. Yes, I know. I’m sorry. We’ll finalise the details once you have the shipment ready to leave.’ Abramov ended the call and snatched the other phone from his driver. ‘This had better be good.’
‘It’s Markov.’
Abramov sat up in his seat as his driver floored the accelerator once more, his heart rate increasing so fast a sharp pain stabbed at his ribs.
‘What happened?’
‘She’s safe,’ said the voice, before the signal was briefly lost. When it returned, Abramov pressed the phone to his ear hard, his knuckles white as he held onto the armrest set into the vehicle’s door. ‘She’s fine.’
‘Why are you phoning Peter?’ demanded Abramov. ‘Your instructions were to only contact me.’
‘We couldn’t reach you,’ said Markov. ‘Your phone has been engaged for the past forty minutes. We felt it better to contact you any way we could, under the circumstances.’
Abramov rubbed at his eyes, and then blinked. ‘What circumstances?’ he demanded. ‘What the hell is going on?’
‘We had to move her earlier this afternoon,’ said Markov. ‘We believe the location of the safe house had been compromised.’
‘How?’
‘We don’t know. But our cameras picked up a man and a woman twice within the past thirty-six hours. They’re not local. Too well-dressed, even though they were trying to blend in.’
‘Are you sure?’
‘Positive. They were observing the house from a distance yesterday, a complete circuit. I sent one of the men to follow them, but he lost them at a transit stop. He would’ve been too exposed if he’d tried to keep up. They were back this afternoon. Probably trying to establish a pattern.’
‘Privateers?’
‘No. Definitely official.’
‘And you weren’t followed to your new location?’
Abramov swore. He knew better than to ask where his daughter had been taken. Both he and Markov knew their enemies could be listening in.
‘We were extremely careful, given the new threat. I’ve posted extra lookouts, and the cameras are being monitored twenty-four seven.’
‘You’ve done well; thank you.’
‘I’d get her to speak to you, but she’s sleeping now.’
Abramov swallowed and cleared his throat. ‘Keep me informed of any more breaches to security,’ he said brusquely.
‘Yes sir.’
Abramov ended the call and handed the phone back to his driver, who tucked it into his jeans pocket, his eyes searching the darkened landscape ahead of him. Abramov noticed the man’s jaw clench and chose to ignore him. Peter also had kids at home, but he knew nothing of the threats against Abramov’s daughter.
The military enterpriser felt it safer that way. If his men knew their children could be used as a threat to ensure the success of the operation, it was likely they’d mutiny.
He had bigger problems to deal with.
He hit the speed dial option on his phone and waited for the man at the other end to answer.
‘Nikolai? It’s me. I’m going to need that shipment earlier than three weeks.’
<
br /> CHAPTER 38
Dan climbed the wooden staircase to the upper level of the run-down hotel and used his key to open the door to the room he’d been allocated.
As he shut the door, he checked the internal one that linked his room to Anna’s. She’d declined a second drink and had retired to her room an hour after dinner while Dan continued to talk with the Canadian journalist.
Satisfied the door that separated them was shut, and making a mental note to check on Anna every couple of hours in case she developed signs of delayed shock, he kicked his boots off next to the bed, stripped off his t-shirt, and headed for the bathroom.
He peeled off his jeans and ran the shower water until a hint of warmth filled the small cubicle. He stepped in, closed his eyes, and let out a groan of pleasure as the water ran over his head.
After four days walking and driving through the desert, the dust and dirt turned the water sandstone coloured. He didn’t care if he had to put dirty clothes on again in the morning. He just wanted to be clean before he slept.
He reached out for the soap, scrubbed at his skin until it hurt, and then did the same for his hair. The only thing he couldn’t do was have a shave – there was no complimentary razor.
Conscious of the need to conserve water, he turned off the faucet and grabbed a towel.
His thoughts turned to what would need to be done the next day. The UN commander had probably commandeered the four-wheel drive vehicle after seeing them to the hotel across the street from his office, so new transport would have to be sought if they couldn’t get a flight in one of the small aircraft used to ferry supplies to the remote outpost. After that, there was another two hour drive to the border and the contact David was sending to meet them.
Dan ran a hand over his face and realised he was almost asleep on his feet. The bed had looked inviting, despite his suspicions the mattress had probably worn thin from decades of use.
He wrapped the towel around his waist and opened the door.
He yelped in shock and took a step back.
Anna stood in the middle of his room, her hair wet and her t-shirt knotted around a slim waist. Her jeans clung to her hips, the top button of her fly undone. Her eyes found his, and she trailed her hand from her throat towards her breasts.
‘Can I stay here tonight?’ she said.
Dan swallowed and then held up a finger. ‘Give me a minute. Stay there. Don’t move.’
He closed the bathroom door, ran a hand through his damp hair, and swore under his breath.
‘Get a grip,’ he muttered.
He reached out and turned the cold tap in the sink on full, then ran his hands under the water and splashed his face, his mind racing.
He was in a foreign land, had recently survived kidnapping and likely death, and now a beautiful twenty-something half-naked blonde woman was standing in the middle of his hotel room, offering herself for sex.
The same woman whose father happened to be a good friend, and who had a private army he’d have no hesitation sending after Dan if he found out he’d bedded his daughter.
Dan turned the water off and cast his eyes around the small room until he located the pair of jeans he’d discarded on the floor before stepping into the shower.
He unwrapped the towel from his waist, threw it over the rail next to the sink, and tugged the jeans on. He caught sight of himself in the mirror, bare chest exposing a criss-cross pattern of scars. His face, neck, and arms had borne the brunt of the prolonged exposure to the sun over the past four days and were already turning browner than he’d seen since his time in the Middle East.
He half-shrugged and supposed some women would find him attractive.
If they had recently survived kidnapping and likely death.
Despite a lack of a regimented workout for the past year, he’d kept fit by running circuits of the marina in Essaouria every morning since his arrival. It served both as an exercise regime and as a way to monitor any suspicious activity.
He snorted under his breath as he recalled the yacht explosion, then sighed as he straightened, turned away from the mirror, and twisted the door handle.
Anna stood in the middle of his room, arms hugging her body, her face a picture of misery. When she saw him, she dropped her hands to her side.
‘I’m sorry. I should never have done that.’ She looked up at the stained ceiling, blinked hard, and then exhaled. ‘I should go.’
‘Hey,’ he said, crossing the space between them in two strides, ‘you’ve been through a traumatic experience. It’s only natural to seek comfort in another human being.’ He squeezed her arm, moved past her, and grabbed the t-shirt he’d tossed onto the bed. He pulled it over his head and faced her once more. ‘But we’re not having sex. Your father would kill me for a start.’
He moved back to her as she sniffed loudly and reached out to push a strand of hair behind her ear. ‘And I care about you too much.’
Anna nodded, unable to meet his eyes.
‘You can stay here tonight, though, if you’d like?’ He raised an eyebrow and tilted her chin until their eyes met. ‘Nothing’s going to happen, but if it’ll make you feel safer, then stay.’
A tear rolled down Anna’s cheek, and Dan brushed it away with his thumb.
She exhaled once more, steadied herself, and wiped at her eyes. ‘Thank you.’
Dan smiled. ‘I don’t know about you, but I need to sleep. I’m shattered.’
He moved to the bed, pulled the sheets aside, and propped a pillow against the headboard before beckoning to Anna. ‘Come on.’
Anna choked out a laugh but kicked off her shoes and padded across the floor, sliding across the mattress to where Dan lay.
He waited until she’d settled into the crook of his arm.
‘We’ll leave at first light,’ he said. ‘That’ll give us time to rest for a few hours. We’ll take all the water we can from the vending machine downstairs, too.’
‘Do you think we’ll be able to get our vehicle back before the major finds us?’
‘I can’t imagine he’ll be in his office until six o’clock at least,’ said Dan. ‘And he’s not expecting us until nine.’
Anna managed a low chuckle. ‘You think we’d be spoiling his lie-in otherwise?’
‘Something like that. No, we’ll just have to see if we can charm our way past the guards at the gatehouse. I’m sure they won’t be keen to wake their boss up just so we can take our vehicle to refuel it before setting off, do you?’
‘Sounds perfectly reasonable to me.’
Dan wrapped an arm around Anna’s shoulder and pulled her to him, stroking her hair.
‘Sleep,’ he murmured. ‘I won’t let anyone hurt you.’
CHAPTER 39
Dan blinked in the darkness and raised his head off the pillow, all his senses alert.
There was a moment’s silence, and then a scream and the sound of suppressed gunfire filled the air.
Dan rolled off the bed pulling Anna with him. She woke as they hit the floor.
‘Dan? What the hell?’
‘Shh. The hotel’s under attack.’
‘Wha—’
‘Where are your shoes? Put them on. We’re leaving.’
Dan squinted at the ancient radio alarm clock on the table next to the bed.
Three o’clock in the morning.
The perfect time for an ambush.
Dan crawled across the floor to where he’d discarded his boots, sat down, and pulled them on, then inched across to the window and carefully raised his head above the sill.
The guardhouse on the opposite side of the street appeared deserted, the compound beyond floodlit under a swathe of powerful lights that cast the rest of the road into shadows.
Movement beneath his position caught his eye, and he moved back.
Two men in black fatigues were in the road outside, guarding the front entrance to the building, their hands wrapped around assault rifles.
Dan noticed the way they held the weapons a
nd quickly concluded the men were professionals, unlike Salim’s rag-tag group of followers.
He heard movement in the street below the window and lowered his head as both men turned, their heads snapping round in unison as a figure lurched out of the shadows and began to run from the hotel, towards the UN compound.
‘Shit,’ he murmured, as he realised it was Crawford, trying to escape. ‘Idiot. Why didn’t you just try to hide?’
He grimaced as both armed men brought their rifles up at the same time and fired.
The journalist didn’t stand a chance.
‘Dan?’
He moved back to Anna, who crouched next to the bed, her eyes wide.
‘It’s the Russians, isn’t it?’
‘I think so, yes.’
‘What are we going to do?’
‘Follow me.’
He grabbed her hand and hurried to the door that separated their rooms. Checking the space was clear and the door to the hallway was closed, he hurried to the window and dropped to his knees, pulling Anna down with him.
The window to her room faced the back of the hotel, and if Crawford’s information had been correct, then the Russian team comprised six men – two of whom were out front guarding the street.
‘Won’t the guards at the UN compound help?’ asked Anna.
Dan shook his head. ‘I don’t think the guards are going anywhere,’ he said. ‘The guardhouse was deserted – I didn’t see anyone appear when Crawford started running towards it. I’m guessing whoever was on duty has been killed. It could be a while before anyone discovers them. We’re sure as hell not hanging around to find out.’
He motioned to her to stay down, then moved forward and ran his fingers under the window sash. He closed his eyes, hoped the fitting had been oiled recently, and pulled.
The window slid open easily, and he breathed a sigh of relief as he crouched once more and got his bearings.
Shouting from the floor below reached them, and Anna moved closer. He reached out and squeezed her hand while his mind raced.
There would be at least two men clearing the rooms one by one, a methodical process that would ensure they didn’t miss their intended targets. That meant at least one, maybe two men, patrolling the lower level in case anyone tried to escape.
Behind the Wire (A Dan Taylor thriller) Page 16