by Ian Walkley
Tally fired, hitting the man. She fired again and the man fell, his weapon clattering onto the floor.
“Thanks! “Which way?”
“Left!” Tally shouted.
Mac whipped his head back, avoiding a deafening blast of automatic fire that chipped holes in the tiled wall. He returned fire. Two bearded men wearing traditional white Arab thobes dropped to the floor. Zodhami’s men perhaps? Was Sophia here? Was the operation underway?
They crossed the corridor.
Mac could see through the semitransparent doors people moving around in one of the theatres. “In there!”
Tally shouldered open the door to the theatre while Mac ran up the stairs to the observation room. He was about to kick in the door when more men in white robes rushed out with weapons.
“Y’Allah!” one of the bearded men yelled.
Mac squeezed off a burst and continued firing as he ran over the two dead men and rammed the door. The hail of metal from his weapon cut another man down. Return fire from a pistol shattered a window partition next to him. He took cover around a comer and fired off the rest of the clip from the Spectre, then dropped the weapon.
Mac held the pistol ready as he scanned the observation room, glancing down at Tally holding the medical team at gunpoint in the operating theatre. Orange smoke began to blow out of the vents. Mac scanned the operation room and spotted Sophia. She was unmoving on one of the operating tables. They’d found her! Despite the danger they were still in, Mac felt an enormous relief as he thought of Bob and Elena’s reaction if they knew. But she wasn’t moving. Had they arrived too late? On the other operating table was an old man—Al Qaeda’s second-in-command, Sheik Zodhami.
Tally checked Sophia and signalled him. Thumbs up. She’s alive!
Then he spotted Khalid, playing possum under the dead bodyguard. He went over and kicked him. Khalid granted a protest.
“Get up, arsehole.”
“You have no chance. Best you leave me here and take the girl.” Khalid rolled out from under the bloody bodyguard.
“Sure. We could do that.” McCloud glanced out to see if any more guards were creeping up the corridor.
Suddenly Khalid lashed out with his khanjar. Mac stepped back, but not fast enough. The razor edge slashed his pistol arm. Blood began to soak through the blue scrubs. Mac switched the weapon to his other hand and pointed the muzzle at Khalid’s head. “Give it to me.”
Khalid paused for a moment, shrugged, then handed over the khanjar. “You’ll never get off this island. You will pay in days of pain for this.”
Mac pressed the khanjar to Khalid’s throat. “It would be a pleasure to kill you now.” Spotting one of the Al Qaeda men’s AK-47s, he picked it up and said, “For your sake, you’d better hope we do make it. Because if we don’t you’ll be dead. And any lack of cooperation and I will slice a chunk off your face. Now, where’s the other girl? Danni.”
~ * ~
92
Ziad was walking along the eastern end of the beach discussing with Colonel Boroni and Captain Khan the deployment of their personnel to guard the Yubani Resort, when the intruder alert sounded. He radioed the control centre. “Report.”
“The prisoners are gone, brother. They killed two of our men.”
Ziad began to laugh. He had warned Khalid that the Americans were trouble and that he should be allowed to kill them immediately. But Khalid had wanted to keep them as hostages, fearing that his American contact Wisebaum could cause mischief. Now it had come back to bite him. Perhaps this would make His Highness take more notice of him in future.
Then suddenly, the fire alarm began. He radioed security again.
“They have set fire to the building,” replied the anxious voice. “We are evacuating. They are headed for the operating theatres.”
Ziad considered for a moment. This could be a great opportunity. The other guards would probably stop them. But if not, if Khalid was killed, he would move quickly and take control of the enormous wealth and the nuclear canisters they had stored in the fortress. Or if the Americans tried to escape, there may be an opportunity for him to rescue Khalid and save face following the Sheriti episode. He gave orders to Captain Khan and Colonel Boroni, then ran to get into position.
~ * ~
93
They lined the medical team up in the operating theatre with their masks down.
“Which of you are the surgeons?” Mac asked them.
Nobody stepped forward.
Khalid turned and grinned at Mac condescendingly. “As I said, you have no chance, Sergeant. You and her against my men and Colonel Boroni’s? Ha! You are going to regret this, in the hours that I—”
Mac smashed the butt of the AK-47 into his face. Khalid uttered a howl and lifted his hands to his shattered nose as blood poured down his robe. Mac rammed the butt into his fingers. Khalid let out a scream as the bone of his nose was crushed a second time. His eyes welled up with tears.
“That’s for what you did to my nose. An eye for an eye,” Mac said. “Now, you arrogant prick, you begin your lesson in respect.”
Fear had replaced arrogance on Khalid’s face. “All right. I will do as you want.”
“Yes, you will, arsehole.” He glanced at Tally, who nodded her support. “Now, who are the surgeons?”
Khalid pointed to two men.
“Are these men the surgeons?” he asked, addressing the medical team. Several of the team members nodded.
“There’ll be no more operations here,” he said, and shot the two surgeons in the head.
Several bursts of automatic fire came from outside, clattering against metal equipment. Nobody was hit.
“Tell your men to pull back!”
“Stop firing!” Khalid yelled. His own men had almost shot him. “Get back! Go outside, you fools!”
“Now we move.”
They slowly made their way along the corridor into the deserted lobby. Two of the medicos pushed the gurney with the unconscious Sophia, and two others pushed the gurney with Sheik Zodhami. Four of the medical staff walked ahead of them and four behind.
“Do you believe him about Danni being sold?” Tally asked.
“Don’t know. She could be here, could have been used in a transplant even. Hopefully we’ll see her among the people being evacuated.”
A dozen or so people, medical and nursing staff, other employees, and patients were evacuating. Three attendants were pushing young males in wheelchairs. They had bandages suggesting mainly arm or leg injuries.
“Patients or donors?” Mac asked, prodding Khalid with the khanjar.
“These men are from the crew of the Princess Aliya” Khalid replied, having some difficulty speaking. “Shot when Israelis attacked us on the way here.”
The elevator behind them sounded a ding. Mac pulled Khalid behind a huge Romanesque column, holding the pistol at his head. The elevator doors opened and an attendant wheeled a young, semiconscious female out into the lobby towards the exit. She was bandaged around the abdomen. Another woman accompanied them. For a moment, Mac thought the patient might be Danni.
“Who’s that?” he asked.
“Just another guest.”
Tally said, “I recognise them. It’s Rubi, his sister, and Jamila, his wife.”
Mac reversed the khanjar and sliced off Khalid’s left ear.
“No!” Khalid screamed. He sank to his knees. “What have you done?” He picked the ear up off the floor.
Rubi ran over to him and found a cloth to hold against the wound.
“I warned you. Now get up! You! Bring the woman here!”
The attendant wheeled Jamila over. She was deathly pale.
“Is there anyone else upstairs?” he asked the attendant in Arabic.
“She is the last one to be brought down, sir.”
They moved to the exit door. Mac opened it slightly and looked out. He glanced back at Tally and said, “We’ll take the launch at the jetty.” He turned to Khalid. “Tell your men to dr
op their weapons and stand with their backs to us and their hands on their heads.”
“What about me?” Khalid said.
“We’ll take you with us and leave you along the coast, once we’re safe.”
“You expect me to believe that you’ll release me unharmed? No. I need to stay here. You may keep my wife as hostage. I’ll order my men to give you safe passage. You have my word.”
Tally leaned her face close. “You think we’d accept the word of someone who takes organs from children while they’re still alive?”
“To save the lives of world leaders, successful businessmen, great scientists and artists. That’s what we are doing here. Making the world a better place.”
“Giving a living girl’s organs to one of the world’s worst terrorists is not making the world a better place,” Mac said. “Who are you to judge the value of one life against another?”
Khalid grunted. “People make such judgments all the time.”
Tally aimed the pistol between Khalid’s legs. “You are sick. And I thought you were just greedy for wealth and power.”
She fired.
The shot echoed through the lobby. Mac glanced down, shocked by her action, expecting to see blood. The bullet had left a hole in his white thobe where it wrapped around his legs, but had somehow missed him.
“God, you must have a small dick,” Tally said, aiming the weapon higher.
Khalid too was looking down. The front of his thobe showed a spreading yellow stain. “All right! I will order them!” Khalid said, his face a mess of sweat and blood. He turned to Rubi. “Go and tell the others to do as he says.”
Rubi hurried outside, along the path, and passed Khalid’s instructions to the men. There was considerable arm-waving and shouting. The Pakistani solders dropped their weapons. But Colonel Boroni looked towards the resort, evidently reluctant to take orders from a woman.
Stalemate.
Mac glanced at Tally “All or nothing, right?”
Tally pursed her lips and gave a slight nod, pointing the pistol at Khalid. “All or nothing.”
~ * ~
94
From her perch ten metres up, Anastia watched through the Swarovski laser range-finder binoculars. She could see smoke billowing from one of the resort outbuildings. Her clothes were still damp from the previous night, and her ankle pained her. But at least the sun was out and there was only a light breeze. A good day for snipers.
However, she had another problem. Throwing the gear from the boat had broken the telescopic sight. She would have to use the normal sight. Not nearly as precise, but her skill would hopefully overcome the limitations of the equipment. She adjusted the sights to nine hundred metres.
The sound of an alarm drifted across the bay. A short time later, a second alarm sounded as smoke rose from behind the resort building. As she watched, a few minutes later, people began to evacuate. A group of people dressed in blue surgical scrubs was pushing two gurneys slowly along the path towards the jetty. Near the jetty, eight armed men dropped their weapons and put their hands on their heads. The five Andaran soldiers and their officer stayed put with weapons at the ready. Anastia was confused. What was going on?
Then, as she watched the scene through the binoculars, she could see that Mac and Tally had taken Khalid hostage. Anastia frowned. They would never make it to the launch with a sniper on the roof of the resort building.
~ * ~
95
They were about a hundred metres away from the jetty when Boroni’s men brought up their weapons to the firing position.
Then all hell broke loose.
Two shots echoed off the cliffs. Mac couldn’t tell where from. Above them a sniper toppled from the roof with his weapon, landing on the concrete below. The unarmed Pakistanis took off, fleeing up the sand dunes. Rubi took off with them and they were soon out of sight.
Who was the shooter? Mac wondered. Then it hit him. Wisebaum had sent a raiding party. He smiled at Tally. They’d made it!
Not quite.
One of Boroni’s men panicked at the shooting and fired. Several of the medical staff forming the cordon fell, dead or injured. Tally pushed Sophia’s gurney to cover behind one of the concrete tidal barriers. Khalid ducked behind Jamila, who bucked and jerked as several rounds hit her. Mac fired, cutting down three of Boroni’s men.
“Stop, you fools!” Khalid shouted. “Boroni! Order your men!”
Colonel Boroni turned to his men to give an order, but his head exploded, followed by the belated sound of the shot from the sniper. That was enough for the remaining two men. They dropped their weapons and fled.
“Mac!” Tally screamed.
In the confusion of the shootings, Ziad had crept from behind a day tent and grabbed her. He dragged her up towards the sand dunes, the muzzle of his pistol tight against her head.
“It’s over, Ziad!” Mac yelled. “We have a team surrounding the place. Let her go!”
Ziad slammed the pistol butt down on Tally’s shoulder. Her legs gave way and she cried out in pain, as Ziad grabbed her around the waist. “Release His Highness! Or next time I shoot!”
Mac hesitated, considering his options. None were ideal, even with a sniper helping them. One sniper. It seemed that Derek hadn’t sent a team at all. Mac realised then that it must be Anastia. He yelled at Ziad: “All right! I’ll let Khalid walk slowly back to the resort building, and you will let Tally walk to the boat.” He lowered the AK-47 and kept the pistol aimed at Khalid. “Walk, arsehole. And take your wife.”
“You are a dead man. You are all dead!” Khalid pivoted on his heel and strode towards the building, wheeling his dying wife in front of him.
Tally stepped away from Ziad and headed towards the jetty. Mac ordered two of the uninjured staff to push Sophia on the gurney to the jetty. Lying on the gurney might have saved her from being hit. Ziad retreated back up the beach, increasing his distance. Now he was about sixty metres away. They needed to get to safety before Khalid made it to the resort building.
“Hurry, Tally!”
Tally quickened her strides. Khalid left the wheelchair and ran the last few metres. Ziad raised his pistol.
Fired.
At Mac.
Mac squeezed his trigger at the same time. A burning sensation swatted the skin of his thigh and blood spattered the sand.
CLICK. His pistol was empty.
“Fuck!” Mac started running, limping towards the jetty.
Ziad stopped retreating up the dunes and reversed direction, running across the sandy mounds to cut Mac off before he could reach the jetty.
More shots from the sniper. Ziad was hit. He dropped to one knee and took aim. Close enough for an easy kill.
Mac turned, pulling the khanjar from his waistband. As Ziad fired, he dived and threw the weapon. Felt the shockwave of a bullet whizz above his head. The khanjar tumbled end over end and the blade thumped into Ziad’s belly, knocking him back onto a sandy mound.
Ignoring the hot pain in his leg, Mac rushed over and grabbed Ziad’s pistol. Ziad’s expression changed from pain to terror as the mound came alive like a miniature volcano. Thousands of black fire ants swarmed out of their nest to attack the invader. Ziad screamed, trying unsuccessfully to brush the insects away. The swarm quickly covered his face, thousands of the stinging ants crawling into his mouth, nose, ears and eyes. Soon the seething black mass covered his entire body, which writhed in agony, unable to escape the onslaught. The screaming stopped.
“Welcome to Hell, Ziad,” Mac mumbled as he turned away.
He pushed Sheik Zodhami’s gurney onto the jetty as the sniper from the cliffs covered their escape, shooting at any of Khalid’s men who tried to fire at them from the resort building.
“Let’s hope we can start this boat,” Tally said as they laid the two unconscious patients in the launch.
~ * ~
96
Mac cast off and pushed the throttle forward and the boat sped away from the jetty on the smooth gree
n waters of the bay. He turned to Tally. “Tank’s almost full—that’s a plus. A hundred gallons will get you safely to the Rabi. To Grand Comore even, if necessary.”
“By you, you mean what exactly?”
“I have unfinished business here.”
“No, you don’t. You’ve done enough. Let Derek handle it now,” Tally said, checking Sophia’s pulse. She undid the straps holding her to the stretcher. She was still unconscious, but her heart was beating strongly.
“Derek? Are you kidding? Where’s the rescue team? He’s fucking useless!”