The Collectors - Book Four: Diamonds and Sand (The Collectors Series 4)

by Sewell, Ron

  For three hours, Bear monitored the vehicles’ movements. He laughed when the lights faded. “Dickheads should have waited.”

  Amadou took over and at six made tea for everyone. Breakfast consisted of a handful of dates.

  Petros clambered up the slope until, with the aid of binoculars, he saw two green Land Rovers in the distance. We’ll know what they want in a couple of hours, he thought. He remembered ZZ’s comment; mad men and wild camels travel this region.

  Back at the camp, he positioned the Toyotas behind the tents with their fronts towards the mountain.

  Akeem pointed. “Why?”

  “Gut feeling that those in the Land Rovers are not on a friendly mission. Overconfident without a shadow of doubt. They don’t care, which for us spells big trouble.” He paused. “Bear and Amadou, behind the wall. ZZ and Eva, inside the cave. Akeem, grab your weapon, you’re with me.”

  The two men sat on boulders, legs crossed. In their arms rested their AK 47s. They chatted to pass the time.

  ”Listen,” said Akeem.

  “I don’t hear a thing. Even the night wind has stopped,” said Petros.

  “Nor do I and that scares the shit out of me. Their vehicles have stopped but where are they?”

  In one movement, both men slid to the ground. One of the boulders shook and stone splinters filled the air.

  “Large caliber,” said Petros. “Makes the AK the equivalent of a water pistol.”

  “I needed to know that,” said Akeem. “What now?”

  Petros shook his head. “We wait.”

  Akeem grinned. “I wasn’t going anywhere, were you?”

  From behind the dunes, a man with a harsh German accent shouted in English, “Mr Kyriades, Mr Morris, give me the diamonds and we will go away.”

  Petros kept his voice relaxed. “If I give them to you, I’m up shit creek with a bullet in my head.”

  “Mr Kyriades,” screeched Eva. “I know this man. He followed my tracking device.” She held up her camera. “In case you double-crossed me.”

  Petros glanced towards the defensive wall. “I’m a businessman, Eva. My word is my bond, you should know that.”

  “I trust no one.” With the sack of diamonds in her right hand, she clambered over the rock wall and descended the slope. “Jan, I have the diamonds.”

  ”A tall, blond-haired man dressed in army fatigues appeared from the dunes. “The others are dead. I now have a new employer who offered more.” He held out his left hand. “I’ll take them.”

  Petros stared straight at the man’s hard, uncompromising face

  Eva stopped, remained motionless, and stared at him, her eyes curious. In German she shouted, “No you won’t.”

  His voice rose. “You stupid whore. Do you believe our illustrious leader wanted you by his side? He fucked you because he needed these diamonds to feed his crazy notion of ruling the world. My new employer and I have a better use for them.”

  “If you want this,” she held up the sack, “you’ll have to kill me.”

  Jan pointed the muzzle of his AK47 between Eva’s eyes. “The diamonds.” With his left hand, he grabbed the bag as Eva’s head burst as a watermelon struck by a sledgehammer. “Stupid bitch.” A stream of bullets tore into her chest and stomach.

  Catapulted backwards, Eva’s blood and brains splattered the ground.

  “The shit has hit the fan,” said Petros. “Time to run.”

  Both men zigzagged for alternate cover nearer the cave and dropped flat behind rocks.

  “You will not escape,” shouted Jan.

  Petros threw himself to one side, stood and fired a burst in the direction of the voice and dropped to the ground.

  “You fucking bastard.” Jan clutched his left arm.

  “You didn’t think we’d lie on our backs with our legs in the air and let you murder us, did you?”

  “Doesn’t matter. You’ll be dead by nightfall.”

  “Don’t count on it. Bear, your turn.” The rattle of a heavy machine gun shook the air. The lighter AK filled in the gaps.

  “Bloody hell,” said Petros, “that’s a Bren.”

  Four shots thumped the ground nearest Petros. “We can’t stay here.”

  Akeem smiled. “Seventy metres and up hill. Do you think we can make it?”

  “But of course. Ready?”

  With heads low, they balanced on their feet.

  “I’ll go left and you go right. He can’t zero in on both of us.”

  “On my count,” said Akeem. “Three, two, fucking run.”

  They darted left and right across the open space and at full tilt dived and rolled over the defensive wall.

  “What took you so long?” said Bear.

  “Took the scenic route,” said Akeem.

  “Can you see them?” said Petros.

  “No,” said Amadou. “But you creased the bastard who killed Eva.”

  Single shots from the heavy calibre weapon punched the air.

  “What’s he firing at?”

  “The Toyotas. Without transport we’re fucked.”

  “I don’t think they’ll leave us to walk home,” said Bear, “but a frontal assault is suicidal.”

  “We have the advantage of food, water, shade and the diamonds,” said Petros.

  “What the fuck?” muttered Akeem.

  “Well you didn’t think I’d give a few million pounds worth of diamonds to her. Did you?”

  “I did wonder,” said Bear, “You’re right I should have known better. What did you give her?”

  “Fakes. I had them made by a friend in Hatton Garden. Any half-decent diamond merchant might give you fifty quid for them but not much more. For the moment those morons haven’t a clue.”

  A round from the heavy calibre rifle hit the defensive wall with regularity.

  “Bear, give those prats a couple of mags from the Bren.”

  “With pleasure.” In a deliberate arc, he traced a line across the dunes, raising and lowering as a Mexican wave. Empty cartridge cases flew out of the side and covered the ground. He rested for a while before repeating the procedure. “That’ll keep their heads low.”

  A small rock in the wall splintered showering them.

  “So the smart arse gets his own back,” said Bear as he discharged another mag.”

  “Mr Kyriades,” shouted Jan as he raised an RPG. “No more games. Goodbye.”

  “Into the cave,” screamed Petros.

  Bear grabbed ZZ by the scruff of the neck and charged through the entrance. The others followed.

  They ran fast. A white light flooded the cavern. An explosion shook the ground. A thick, powdery black cloud rolled from the entrance passage. One detonation followed another; shock waves funnelled along the passage, grabbed and tumbled their bodies over the hard ground. The thunder of rocks falling vibrated the floor. Blocked noses and dust-filled mouths made breathing hard. The searing light faded and the pitch black cloaked them.

  “What the fuck?” spluttered Bear.

  “Grenades and plastic,” said Petros. “The first to make us run. The second to close the door, forever.”

  “Anyone hurt?” said Bear.

  Between coughing and wheezing everyone spluttered, “No.”

  “Stand still and the dust will drop,” said Petros. “Akeem, where did we put the torches?”

  “On top of a box. Wait, let me get my bearings and I’ll find them.” He cursed and swore as he inched his way. “Found them.”

  The wide beam of light cut through the murk, the descending dust resembled London smog. Hair, faces and clothing were powdered with black.

  “At least we can breath,” said Amadou.

  “But for how long?” said Bear. “Akeem, give me a torch, I’m going to check on the damage.”

  Their eyes followed the beam of light as it disappeared round the corner into the gloom. Moments passed before it reappeared.

  “The entrance tunnel no longer exists. Give us a week and we might be able to dig ourselves
out.”

  “Why are we waiting? Let’s start,” said Akeem.

  “Hold on, I said might.”

  “So we curl up and die?” said Amadou.

  “No way,” said Petros. “We search for the way out. People lived here and I bet they had more than one entrance. Our job is to find where, without getting lost. Bear, you Akeem and ZZ check out the cavern to the left. Amadou and I will go right. Did I see hammers in one of those crates?”

  “There are enough tools in here to run a garage.” Akeem rummaged in the crate retrieving four claw hammers. “One, two for you.”

  The thought of dying underground spurred them on as the two teams separated.

  Petros scratched the right hand side of the wall of the first passage and began to make his way. Amadou followed a metre behind hammering marks as he went. Forty paces later, they entered another cavern.

  “Which way?” said Amadou.

  “Straight ahead takes us deeper into the mountain. I suggest we take the tunnel to the right.”

  “You lead and I’ll mark the walls. It gives me a great deal of satisfaction every time I smash the stone.”

  “This is better than doing nothing.”

  “Can’t argue with that.”

  This time the tunnel came to a dead end and disappointed they retraced their steps.

  “Bear may have found something.”

  “Petros, are you always this positive?”

  “Amadou, there’s a solution to every problem my old maths teacher used to say. The difficulty is finding it.”

  Back in the first cavern, they waited until a beam of light announced Bear’s return.

  “Find something?” asked Petros.

  “More chambers. One has a hole in the roof which I assume acted as a chimney,”

  “We found more chambers. What do you think is the height of the roof?”

  “High.”

  Petros let the beam of his torch wander across the many wooden crates which littered the floor. “How tall a pile do you reckon that lot will make?”

  “Fuck knows,” said Bear, “but there’s one way to find out. Count them.”

  ZZ scurried from box to box counting until he reached thirty-two. We have plenty, Mr Petros.”

  “Steady, ZZ. If they are stacked one on top of the other they might reach the roof. One wrong move and they tumble and we end up in a snotty heap. I’d prefer to get out of here in one piece and we still have to find a way back to Waw al Kibir. Right now, a cup of your wonderful tea would hit the spot.”

  ZZ busied himself, lit the primus stove, and served the tea.

  “How much food do we have, ZZ?”

  “Eat well, one day. Eat poor, three days. There are the old tins of food.”

  Petros grinned. “I hope to be out of here tomorrow. Food and water are not the problem. Light is. We have three torches and the spare batteries are in the Toyotas.”

  “Why not light a fire?” said Akeem. “There’s enough scrap wood scattered over the ground to give us heat and light.”

  “You must be reading my mind. Let’s collect and burn.”

  In his search to find wood, Petros discovered a heap of damaged crates in a passage. Tinder dry, it was not long before a fire illuminated the cavern and gave encouraging warmth.

  “We have work to do.” He pointed. “Those crates have to be emptied and taken through to the cavern where Bear discovered the hole in the roof.”

  With passion each crate was emptied and its contents searched for anything useful. Most contained motor spares or ammunition. Those with tinned food were more than half full.

  Bear made it his duty to test a few samples. “Corned beef, sausages, strawberry jam, beef stew and dry biscuits. PK, we could live on this lot for a couple of weeks. When we’re finished with the crates I’ll do a fry up if I can find something to use as a pan.”

  “Sounds wonderful,” said Amadou, “Hope there’s no pig in any of that stuff. Come, give me a hand carrying these crates.”

  “How are we going to fix this lot together?” said Akeem.

  “Haven’t a clue,” said Amadou.

  Late in the evening they finished. Bear rummaged and retrieved an old shovel with half a handle, washed it and cooked three tins of sausages. “Great grub this. Haven’t had square sausages since I was in the army. You’re in luck, Amadou, these are beef.”

  Petros gazed at him but said nothing.

  “Fried corned dog next,” said Bear.

  “I don’t eat dog,” said Amadou.

  “Army slang for tinned beef,” said Akeem.

  “Why didn’t he say that?”

  “He has a weird sense of humour.”

  In the glow of the fire and with full stomachs they sipped tea.

  “Could be worse,” said Amadou.

  “Not much,” said Akeem.

  Petros checked the time. “Midnight’s come and gone and I’m going to try and sleep. I suggest you do the same.”

  ZZ placed more wood on the fire. “Will we get out of here, Mr Petros?”

  Petros shrugged.

  Bear, with his eyes closed, appeared to be asleep. “I guarantee it. Now shut up.”

  ***

  The aroma of sausages cooking woke everyone. “Biscuits with jam. Sausages if you want. Tea’s made. Help yourselves. The beef stew we can try tonight or before we leave.”

  “You’ll make someone a good husband,” said Amadou.

  Bear grinned. “That part of my life is complete. I can read the menu these days but can’t order.

  “Why not build the platform until we run out of wood,” said Akeem. “If it doesn’t reach, then worry.”

  “I suggest we use the old winch wires as stays,” said Amadou. “The last thing we want is to clamber up and the whole kit and caboodle tumble.”

  “ZZ,” said Petros. “Will you take charge of the fire and light another one in the far cavern. I’d rather we saved the batteries in our torches.”

  “Ten minutes, Mr Petros.”

  “Time to work,” said Bear. He stood, picked up a burnt sausage and ate it. While whistling the tune from Snow-White he strolled towards the cavern.

  “Wait, Bear, we might as well use one torch. You lead. We’ll follow,” said Petros.

  In the cavern, the daylight entering the vent barely lit the floor.

  “The higher level will be dodgy,” said Bear.

  “We’ll manage that when the time comes,” said Petros. “Bear, you’re in charge. The rest of us will do as we’re told.”

  “Cheers, bastard. So if it goes tits-up it’s my fault.”

  “You’d better believe it. You can take the weight with your broad shoulders.”

  Bear stared at the hole in the roof and dragged four crates into position. “Akeem, you remove nails from the unused wood, hammer them as straight as possible. PK and Amadou, use what you can find to fix this lot rigid.”

  ZZ lit a fire increasing the illumination three fold.

  With large boulders used as anchors the rusted wire stabilised the rickety stack.

  “It’s one on one now or we won’t make it,” said Bear.

  “We still have a way to go,” said Petros. “I’ve an idea. If we try to clamber up the sides, it will topple. If we remove two or three slats from the base and top, we can climb through the centre.”

  Bear nodded. “Increases the odds.”

  Five more crates completed the tower.

  “Doesn’t make it,” said Bear.

  Petros stared at the rickety wooden construction in front of him. “How far are we off?”

  Akeem shouted, “Two metres, maybe three.”

  Petros turned to where ZZ stoked the fire. “ZZ, do you trust me?”

  “Yes, Mr Petros. What is it I must do?”

  He glanced up and back at ZZ. “Balance on my shoulders while I stand at the top of our wooden mountain.”

  “What if I can’t reach the top?”

  “You will.”

  ZZ looked at h
im quizzically.

  “Bear,” said Petros, “when we emptied the crates did you come across something we can use as a beam and a length of rope?”

  “I’ll go and have a gander.”

  Petros pondered the feasibility of his idea. Heights made him dizzy.

  “Will this do?” Bear held a shaft of metal two metres long in his right hand. “Couldn’t find rope that wasn’t rotten. These electrical cables will have to do. Akeem, grab hold and pull.” He tossed one end and both men tugged. “It has two chances.”

  “Ready, ZZ? Amadou, you carry the metal bar and wire to first level. Bear, Akeem, this lot might start to sway. Make sure those wires stay in place.”

  Petros, followed by ZZ and Amadou, ascended to the first level.

  “Amadou, I’m going to tie the wire round my waist and scale the inside to the top. Once there I’ll lower one end for you to secure the metal rod.”

  “I’ll be ready.”

  “ZZ, you stay here. Okay, here goes,” Petros murmured.

  Crate by crate he twisted and climbed until he reached the top. He glanced at the hole a metre from his fingertips. “I’m pulling the wire. ZZ, your turn and watch yourself.”

  With the cable tied to his waist, Petros dropped the free end and waited.

  “Secured,” shouted Amadou.

  To be sure Petros heaved with outstretched arms until the bar rested in his hands.

  “Mr Petros.”

  He lowered his gaze as ZZ crawled between his legs and stood close.

  “Bear, Akeem, keep your eyes on those wires or ZZ, followed by me, will be attempting to fly.”

  Impatient, Bear commented, “PK, stop pissing around, get on with it. Remember to close your eyes.”

  Petros widened his stance and stiffened his back. His pulse raced as his heart beat increased. “Ready, ZZ?” Without answering, ZZ slithered over his frame and sat on his shoulders.

  “Keep going,” said Petros, his eyes closed.

  “Mr Petros, I can touch the rock with my fingers.”

  Smoke from the fire stung their eyes. Petros breathed through his nose so as not to drag in the fumes. “Good. Stand on my shoulders.”

  With agile movements, ZZ stood. “Mr Petros, my hands feel the wind.”

  “Great. Stay as you are and I’ll pass this bar to you. Place it outside the hole. Pull the wire to make sure it’s safe for you to climb.”