by Chris Ryan
Soames stared icily at him. ‘Don’t forget who you’re talking to, Porter.’
He stood firm and refused to budge. For a few moments no one moved. Porter felt an irresistible urge to slog his old CO in the guts. His veins pounded with rage as all the bad memories came rushing back at him. How Soames had shafted his career in the Regiment after the Beirut op. He recalled how the other lads had looked at him differently after the debrief, steering clear of him in the pubs and looking the other way in the guard room at Hereford. They all knew the score. Everyone knew that Porter was damaged goods. Once Soames had blackballed him, no one wanted anything more to do with him. Anyone who associated with him risked getting dumped in the B stream.
This bastard ruined my life. I didn’t travel three thousand miles to take shit from him.
A sharp trilling sound cut through the tense silence. Porter dug out the sat phone from his pocket and saw the screen glowing. Incoming call. A UK number. He flipped up the long tubular antenna. Hit the green key and pressed the phone to his ear.
Hawkridge’s voice came down the line, buzzing in his ear.
‘You’ve kept the satellite phone switched on, I see.’ His voice was barely audible above a roar of interference. Like he was in a tunnel. ‘Thank God. Listen, where are you now?’
Porter gave his back to Soames and moved towards the balcony for a better signal. ‘The Ambassadors Hotel. We’ve located Soames. He’s staying with one of the lads attached to his PMC outfit.’
‘Who?’
‘Bob Tully. We know him. He’s ex-Regiment. Bob was shacked up in the hotel room with some night fighter when Soames reached out to him. The guy’s been hiding out here for the past couple of days.’
‘Well done.’ There was a long bout of silence. Then Hawkridge cleared his throat and said, ‘Unfortunately, we have a problem.’
‘Let me guess. You’re out of Viagra.’
‘This is serious. There have been some developments in the past hour.’
‘What developments?’
‘The bad kind. The rebels have taken control of the airport at Lungi. All friendlies have been ordered to evacuate the area. All flights suspended until further notice.’
Shit.
‘So there’s no way out?’ Porter said.
‘Not until we retake the airport, no.’
‘How long will that take?’
‘A couple of days. Elements of 1 Para are mobilising as we speak. But they’re currently on exercise in Dakar. Best-case scenario, they’ll mount an operation in the next forty-eight hours.’
Anger coursed through Porter as he listened. Beyond the hotel, the sounds of distant gun battles raged across the city. Directly below the balcony he could see the crowd outside the hotel becoming more agitated, heckling the Nigerians and showering them with abuse. More and more rebels were cruising up and down the main road in stolen UN vehicles. One or two of the peacekeepers shook their fists at the rebels in a show of defiance, but most of them looked as nervous as the crowd. Porter pressed his finger to his left ear and tried to shut out the noise.
‘If the airport’s down, how the fuck are we supposed to get out of the country?’
‘You can’t,’ Hawkridge responded sharply. ‘The only other route is to drive north to the border and cross into Guinea. But it’s a long, dangerous drive and the route is teeming with rebel checkpoints. We can’t risk it. Not unless it’s absolutely necessary.’
‘What the fuck is the plan’
‘Stay where you are. We’re mobilising friendlies for an emergency evacuation plan with our American cousins. One of their aircraft carriers happened to be returning from a patrol off the coast of Gabon when the rebels launched their coup. The USS Lauderdale. The plan is to land a squadron of Sea Stallion helicopters at the hotel and lift people out to the Lauderdale as soon as possible.’
‘How long until they get here?’
‘Tomorrow, at the earliest,’ said Hawkridge. ‘We’re still awaiting confirmation. I’m sure you can appreciate that the situation on the ground is extremely fluid.’
Porter shook his head. ‘I don’t give a fuck what the situation is. You’re not hearing me. The rebels are already scoping this place out. I’m telling you, they’re gearing up to have a crack at us. If that happens, we’re shafted.’
There was a pause down the other end of the line, and for a moment Porter thought he’d lost the signal. Then Hawkridge’s voice came back.
‘I understand your concerns. Rest assured, we’ll continue to monitor the situation at our end. If there’s a problem with the evacuation, then you’ll have to extract Soames via land. But that is strictly a last resort. Your orders are to protect Soames at all costs. Do you understand?’
‘Fine,’ Porter replied.
I’ll keep Soames safe, he thought. I’ll follow my orders. But if the worst happens, I’m not taking a bullet for that prick.
Hawkridge said, ‘I’ll be in touch as soon as we have more details about the evacuation. In the meantime, stay put and don’t let Soames out of your sight. If he comes to harm, both our necks are on the line. Make sure it doesn’t come to that.’
TWELVE
0849 hours.
Porter stood listening to the dead air, feeling the hot wind blasting against his face. He shaded the sat-phone screen against the sun and checked the battery icon. Three bars. Which meant the phone had maybe eight hours of battery life left. Stuck in a hotel in the worst city in the world, surrounded by psychotic rebels, with no weapons and a half-dead sat phone for company. He stashed the phone in his pocket then stepped back through the balcony door into the hotel room. Soames stood up and looked across at him.
‘Well? What’s going on?’
Porter gave them the bad news. Once he had finished explaining the situation, Soames folded his arms across his chest, smiling triumphantly.
‘What did I say? I told you it was too dangerous to leave. Even your bosses agree with me. Perhaps next time I offer my advice, you should try listening to it.’
Porter tensed his neck muscles and glared at the ex-Rupert. Another twenty-four hours cooped up in the hotel with this smug bastard, he thought to himself. Another twenty-four hours putting up with this shit.
Tannon said, ‘What’s the plan?’
‘First things first, we need to secure the hotel,’ Porter said. A plan was already taking shape inside his head. He nodded at Tannon. ‘You reckon you’re friendly with the hotel manager?’
‘That’s right,’ she said.
‘Let’s go and have a chat with him.’
‘Right now?’
Porter nodded.
‘I’ll go with you,’ Tully cut in, glancing quickly at Soames. ‘It’s getting hot out there. You’re going to need all the help you can get.’
Porter considered it, then nodded. ‘Fine.’
The hooker pulled a sour face at Tully. ‘What about me?’
Tully grinned at her. ‘You stay here, sweetheart.’ He stroked her swollen jaw. ‘Now, remember. You’d better be here when I get back. Otherwise I’ll be pissed off. And you don’t want to piss me off, do you?’
The hooker bowed her head obediently.
‘No,’ she whimpered.
‘No, what?’
‘No, master.’
‘That’s more like it.’ Tully ran his fingers over one of the bruises on her neck, causing the hooker to wince in pain. He gave his back to her and nodded at Porter and Bald. ‘Right, fellas. Let’s go.’
‘What am I supposed to do?’ Soames said.
Porter turned to him. ‘You can stay here and keep Tully’s night fighter company. Keep the door locked, and for fuck’s sake stay away from the window.’
He turned away before Soames could reply and marched out of the room. Tannon, Bald and Tully hurried after him. All four headed swiftly down the stairs to the ground floor. The lobby seemed even busier than it had been earlier, if that was possible. There had to be at least seven hundred people crammed inside th
e lobby now, Porter reckoned. With the guests bottled up in their rooms, the total number of civilians inside the hotel was probably close to a thousand. A steady stream of bewildered and terrified expats filtered through the front doors, seeking refuge in the hotel. Many of them carried little or no luggage. Exhausted men and women slumped against the walls, drenched in sweat, some of them looking on the verge of passing out in the stifling heat. Charity workers rushed over to those worst affected, handing out bottles of water.
Porter could feel his heart thumping fast as Tannon led them past the crowd towards a door at the side of the reception desk. The situation inside the hotel was becoming critical, he realised grimly. He glanced over at the front of the hotel at the Nigerians manning their defensive cordon at the end of the access road. They were looking agitated, reacting nervously every time the rebels roared past in their pickup trucks. It was only a matter of time before the soldiers abandoned their posts and legged it inside, Porter knew.
Tannon pushed through the door to the manager’s office and ducked into a cluttered office. There was a cheap metal desk next to the window and a bunch of certificates hanging from the walls. A portable fan in one corner whirred noisily. An overweight guy in a short-sleeved white shirt sat behind the desk, cradling a Cisco phone receiver under his chin. He hung up and stood up to greet Tannon, acknowledging the three guys standing next to her with a terse nod of his head. The guy was in his mid-fifties, Porter guessed. He had thinning grey hair, deep frown lines and sweat patches under his armpits the size of China.
‘Jim, I’d like you to meet some friends of mine,’ Tannon said. She motioned towards the three Hereford men standing next to her and briefly introduced them. ‘Jim Crowder is the manager here at the Ambassadors Hotel,’ she added.
‘So you guys know Dominique,’ Crowder said. He spoke in a slow hillbilly twang that stretched every word out into a long and lazy note. American, thought Porter. But not from either of the coasts. Somewhere to the South or Midwest, he figured. ‘What can I do for you? I’m afraid we don’t have any free rooms left, if that’s what you’re after. Things are kind of hectic round here.’
‘We’re not after a room,’ said Porter. ‘We’re here to help defend the hotel.’
Crowder leaned back in his chair. He studied Bald and Porter carefully. ‘That’s a kindly offer. Truly. But we’ve got all the help we need.’
Porter tried again. ‘Listen, mate. We’ve all served in the British Army. Take it from us, that lot outside are going to have a crack at us sooner or later. We need to put the hotel on lockdown before it’s too late.’
‘We’ve already taken precautions. Those Nigerians outside will have our backs.’
‘No,’ said Bald. ‘They won’t.’
Crowder wrinkled his features into a deep frown. ‘What makes you think that?’
‘There are fifty soldiers guarding this hotel. There are ten times that many chogies running about in the streets. At least. Once they’ve cleaned out the rest of the city, they’ll be making a play for the loot in here. The Nigerians won’t be able to stop them then.’
‘So you say. But the Nigerians are telling me different. I’ve just got off the phone with their colonel. He’s given me his word that his men will protect us in the event of an attack.’
The manager was digging his heels in. Porter could see they were getting nowhere. The man’s professional pride was at stake. He had a hotel crammed with guests, and three strangers telling him he was making a serious mistake.
‘Even if that’s true,’ Porter said, ‘don’t you think we should be planning for the worst?’
Crowder looked unconvinced. He steepled his fat fingers on the desk. ‘You really think we’re in danger?’
Bald nodded. ‘We’ve been in situations like this before. This is what we do. And we’re telling you, we have to act now if we’re going to stand a chance of stopping the rebels. It’s that, or we sit back and wait to get chopped up.’
‘We should really listen to these guys, Jim,’ Tannon interjected. ‘They know what they’re talking about.’
Crowder looked at her. ‘You trust these guys?’
‘I do.’
Crowder paused as he chewed on a thought like it was a pound of beef. Then he held up his sweaty hands.
‘Okay,’ he said. ‘I’m listening. What do you propose we should do?’
Porter had been working through the plan in his head and he addressed the manager in a calm, authoritative tone. ‘Our first priority is to clear out the ground floor. The front entrance is the most obvious target. If the rebels break through those doors, anyone in the lobby is going to be a target. Same goes for the first floor.’
‘Where the hell are all these people supposed to go?’ Crowder asked, his frown deepening.
‘The upper floors. That’s the safest place in case of an assault.’
‘That’s not going to be easy. We’ve got almost a thousand people in the hotel, with more folk coming through those doors all the time. Some of these people have been hiding out in their basements for days. They’re scared shitless. I can’t turn them away.’
‘How many rooms are there in the hotel?’ Porter asked.
‘A hundred and eighty. Plus a dozen suites on the top floor, junior and Presidential.’
‘That works out to roughly five people to a room. Six if we leave out the rooms on the lower floor. Which means everyone’s going to have to quadruple up. Families take priority. They’ll room together. Couples too. Everyone else will have to share with strangers. They’re to stay in their rooms at all times and draw up rosters for keeping the bathrooms and showers clean. It won’t be comfortable, but it’s our best chance of keeping everyone safe if things get noisy.’
Crowder made a pained face and squirmed in his chair. Like he had piles. ‘Some of the guests won’t be happy about that. There are guys on the top floor who come here for a little R&R, if you know what I mean. Businessmen. Europeans, mostly. They won’t appreciate the interruption.’
‘Tough,’ said Bald. ‘The situation takes priority. We need to get everyone to safety as quick as possible. If the rebels start popping rounds at the hotel, anyone on those lower floors is going to be vulnerable.’
‘I’ll see what I can do.’
Porter nodded. ‘Just make sure that everyone knows to stay away from the windows at all times. Get them to take the mattresses off the beds and shove them against the windows. We need to turn the hotel into a fort.’
‘Where will everyone sleep?’ Tannon said.
‘On the floor. Safest place for them.’
Crowder nodded. ‘I’ll brief my staff. Get them to spread the word.’
‘Good,’ Porter replied. Then another thought occurred to him. ‘How many people can you squeeze into the restaurant?’
The manager stroked his chin. ‘Two hundred. Two-fifty at a push. Why?’
‘We’ll have to draw up a roster for meal times. One hour for each group. Once they’ve finished their meals they’re to head straight back to their rooms. Make sure everybody knows the drill.’
Crowder clicked his tongue. ‘Feeding everyone is going to be tricky. We’re running low on supplies. The rebels have cut off the route to the warehouse across town. There’s no chance of us bringing in more provisions.’
‘Then we’ll start rationing water and all the non-perishable food. From what we’ve heard, it could be a day or two until help arrives.’
Tannon said, ‘There’s another problem. We need to keep people updated. There are a lot of anxious faces out there. If we keep them in the dark, it’s only going to make them more worried.’
Porter thought for a moment, then nodded. ‘We’ll hold daily briefings, twice a day. Once after breakfast, and then again after the evening meal. That way we can update everyone on the evacuations, and they can ask questions and air any grievances. The most important thing is to reassure everyone that help is on the way, and under no circumstances is anyone to leave the hotel. If they
do that, they’re gonna get themselves carved up by the rebels.’
Crowder said, ‘Anything else?’
‘We’ll need to barricade every entry and exit point around the hotel. Any entrance that the rebels might use to sneak inside will need to be sealed or boarded up.’
A brief look of alarm registered on Crowder’s face. ‘Is that really necessary?’
Bald nodded firmly. ‘The Nigerians have got the front door covered. For the moment, anyway. But that still leaves the rest of the building unguarded.’
‘You think the rebels might creep around the back?’
‘Probably not. But we should block up all the exits just in case.’
‘We’ll need volunteers as well,’ Porter added. ‘Six to a floor. They’ll be responsible for organising the rooms and getting everyone’s luggage sorted.’
‘Shouldn’t be a problem,’ Tannon said. ‘There’s a ton of aid workers out there wanting to help.’
‘What are we going to do about Soames?’ said Bald. ‘We can’t just leave him in his room.’
‘Why not?’ Tannon said.
Porter said, ‘Jock’s right. He might try and escape. He’s not exactly enthusiastic about leaving Sierra Leone. We need to put him somewhere secure, where he can’t escape. Somewhere we can keep an eye on him.’
Crowder said, ‘There’s a janitor’s storeroom on the second floor. No windows, reinforced concrete walls, sturdy lock on the door. Your buddy can stay in there.’
Porter nodded. ‘We’ll get him moved.’
‘How much notice will we have?’ Tannon asked. Something like concern flashed behind her pale green eyes. ‘When the rebels attack.’
Porter considered. ‘Not much. If there’s gonna be a surge, it’ll be just before first light. That’s what I’d do, if I was in their boots. Build up my forces first, then assault at dawn while everyone’s still fast asleep. Right now they’re just strengthening. They won’t have a pop until they’re confident they’ve got enough men for the job.’
The concern in Tannon’s eyes grew larger. ‘How long until that happens?’