Scavenger Hunt

by Barry Buckingham

  While they were gone, Dave got the car jack out to make it look like he was changing a tyre, although, if someone had stopped and offered help he wouldn’t have known what to say as he couldn’t speak the lingo.

  It took Bob and Harry thirty minutes to cover the distance, it was slow going because of the lack of cover. When they got near to the gap they spotted a work gang fixing the fence.

  There were twelve people altogether - six men digging and six guards. Three guards on the Iraqi side and the rest on the Saudi side. There were also two JCB diggers.

  "A bit of overkill on the guard front. Are they expecting a Range Rover with three blokes trying to gate crash or something?” Harry beamed.

  “Let’s get back," Bob smiled. "We’ll hide the Rover and come back with Dave. We'll stay until it gets dark, see if they leave. If not we’ll find another way in.”

  They got the Rover off the road and disabled the engine as there was nowhere to hide it. Hopefully, anyone coming along would just think it had broken down.

  Just as the sun started going down, the workmen put the JCBs across the gap, they then got in the minibus and headed towards Karbala, they couldn’t believe their luck.

  When the two vehicles were out of view, Harry went forward to check out the gap. When he got back, he said, “They've left the key in the ignition of the digger and the place is deserted, not even a guard dog.”

  “It’s too much of an opportunity to let up," Dave said.

  “Let’s get going,” Bob said. “Harry and I’ll move one of the diggers, Dave, bring the Rover through.”

  “Gotcha.”

  When Dave got back to the vehicle he turned the heater on, whacking it up to full. The temperature was starting to drop quickly back to what it had been the night before. By the time he got through the fence, it was fully dark. Harry and Bob moved the diggers back, took one last look to check things over and jumped in.

  They were in.

  37

  Keeping about ten kilometres away, but parallel to the fence, on the east side of the Samawah road, they drove for forty Kilometres, getting deeper into Iraq before they made camp. They found a small tangle of bushes between some rocks and laid low for the night.

  The next morning they set off, having had beans and coffee again for breakfast. They followed the same course for another forty Kilometres, half expecting the guys from the fence to be charging after them, with most of the Iraqi army in tow, but nothing came. It was at this point they decided to cross the Samawah road.

  They had to get to the other side before hitting the little trunk road that joined it just up ahead. They thought it would be less risky crossing the one road, rather than two.

  When they spotted the tarmac they slowed to a crawl, whilst Bob and Harry looked for trouble. Happy it was clear, they crossed quickly, disappearing into the desert again.

  They drove the rest of the two hundred and ninety kilometres to Karbala, staying off any roads.

  They spent another quiet night camping under the stars. Harry smiled, there wasn’t a soul around, “or any bloody goats,” he thought.

  They decided to join R22, twenty kilometres south of Razazza Lake, heading into Karbala, but as they got closer, they could see it wasn’t going to be as straightforward as they would have liked. There was a steady stream of vehicles using the road, everything from cars to huge tank transporters.

  They stopped, deciding to wait until it was just getting dark, hopefully making it easier and less noticeable to catch a gap.

  As they got to within five hundred metres of the road, the day was just approaching the point where you’d probably turn your lights on, just to take the edge out of the dark that was starting to cover everything when they noticed the traffic on the road seemed to be thinning out slightly.

  “Probably all stopped for dinner somewhere,” Harry said.

  But at least the plan was working. They waited, but not for too long, before their chance presented itself. They drove towards the road, coming at it at right angles and bounced up off the desert floor onto the tarmac. Dave straightened up and settled down, hoping the few cars that were there didn’t give a shit!

  “I think we got away with it,” Bob said, looking up and down the road!

  They drove on into Karbala without being noticed too much, a few people looked at then, but probably, as Dave hoped, at the car!

  They found their way to the other side of the city and joined the Baghdad road. They settled down with the rest of the traffic and started counting down the kilometres. Making one more overnight stop on the way, pulling off the road into a copse of olive trees, they got their heads down for some shut eye.

  38

  The next morning, they set off on the final leg into Baghdad, knowing this would be the tricky part.

  When they were thirty minutes of the city, Harry made a call to Anshu.

  “Anshu. Hi mate.”

  “OK. Hello, Harry, my old friend. How are you?”

  “Good. We need to get into Baghdad, can you meet us?”

  “OK. Yes, where are you?”

  “About thirty minutes out.”

  “OK. I’ll see you at the olive grove in one hour.”

  “Right, see you soon.”

  They continued to the meeting spot and parked alongside a wall. They got out and used the tyre change cover again until Anshu turned up.

  Bob and Dave went and hid on the other side of the wall. Harry was going to check him out first before they showed themselves.

  Anshu arrived twenty minutes late, he was riding a clapped-out old moped. He got off and pushed it up against the wall and strode over to Harry as if he owned the place.

  He was loud and bold, which worried Dave. When he looked at Bob he must have been thinking the same. They both started looking up and down the street, half expecting the local army to be following.

  Anshu went over and hugged Harry as if they were the oldest and closest of friends.

  “OK. Harry, my old friend, it’s good to see you again.”

  “You too, Anshu. How're things?”

  “OK. They're good. I’m working now, I run my own coffee shop, very good business.”

  Anshu looked around, “OK. Where’s your friend, Harry?”

  “He’s just gone for a pee.” With this, Bob made his way around the wall and over to the two of them, he offered his hand. Anshu took it and pulled Bob into him for a hug. Bob returned the gesture. “Nice to meet you, Anshu. Can you help us?”

  “OK. Yes, yes. But first, you must rest and eat. You’ll be my guests in my house.”

  Anshu looked at the Rover up on its carjack, “OK. Car trouble?”

  “No. We were just checking something out,” Harry said.

  Bob looked at Anshu, and said, “We have one more friend with us, Dave.” He looked over towards the wall and waved him over.

  Dave wasn’t that keen. Something about Anshu wasn’t right! He jumped the wall and came over offering his hand, but again Anshu opened his arms and wrapped them around him before he could object.

  “OK. Dave, don’t be shy, we’re all friends.”

  “Hi,” is all Dave managed to say. He looked at Bob and winced, Bob just shrugged.

  “OK. Follow me, my friends, I’ll take you to my home. We can rest and talk.”

  With Anshu's help, they put the wheel back on. He then led them through the centre of Baghdad, cutting through the back streets until he pulled up outside a row of houses. He pushed his moped up against the wall, next to a gate and came over. He directed Dave to park over behind some bins, just past his bike.

  “What a shithole!” Dave said, to Harry.

  “Hasn’t changed a bit, apart from the bullet holes!” he replied, looking round.

  Anshu came over and opened the door for Harry. “OK. Welcome to my house, while you are my guest it is your house.”

  They got out and Anshu showed them in. As they entered, a pretty young woman carrying a baby came through and looked at them. Ansh
u said something to her and she went off, coming back shortly with tea and food.

  “Please, no more bloody beans!” Dave thought.

  “OK. Harry, you’re looking good my friend.”

  “You look older, Anshu. Who’s the woman?”

  “OK. I’m married now. I have two beautiful children, a boy and a girl. My wife, she’s very beautiful?”

  “Yes, she is.”

  The young woman came back and poured the tea, she then sat behind Anshu, her baby in her arms.

  “We need somewhere to stay, can you help us?” Harry asked.

  “OK. You can stay with me, my old friend.”

  “No,” Harry said.

  “OK. I insist. You are my old friend who helped me, so now I help you.”

  “Does your wife speak English?” Bob asked.

  “OK. No, she doesn’t.” Anshu then said something to her, she nodded and got up and left.

  “I need some information, Anshu,” Harry asked.

  “OK. What is it you need, my friend? I’ll help however I can.”

  “I need to meet with people who know about a bomb.”

  “OK. What kind of bomb?”

  “A dirty bomb, a miniature nuke.”

  “OK. What is this... miniature nuke?” he said, with a quizzical look on his face.

  “It’s called a suitcase bomb, it could take out half of Baghdad. I need to find out who has it. Do you know anyone who could help?”

  “We’ll pay you," Dave added. "Enough money for you and your family to live like kings for the rest of your life!” Dave thought, “What the hell, the British government can afford it.”

  “Can you help us?” Harry asked again. “OK. My friend, if this is true what you say, then I’ll find out who can help.”

  They finished their tea and food. Dave gave Anshu a bag full of money, about ten thousand pounds.

  “There’s more when we’re finished,” he said, smiling.

  Anshu looked at the bag and then came over and hugged Dave.

  “We need the address of somewhere to stay,” Bob said.

  “OK. My friend.”

  Anshu gave Bob an address for a small hotel. A chain of them had sprung up along the highway, and this one was near the football ground. It was a type of Travelodge, or at least that’s what he said.

  “A shithole more like it,” Dave thought, looking at the cracks in the wall large enough to put your head into.

  They threw their gear down and got some shut eye.

  ****

  It was dark when the phone rang. Harry picked it up.

  “OK. Harry, my friend.”

  “Anshu, what have you got for me?”

  “OK. I've arranged a meeting for you with one of our leaders, he’s very worried about what you said.”

  “That was quick, well done, old friend. When can I meet?”

  “OK. Tomorrow, in the morning. I’ll ring you then with the meeting point.”

  “Thank you, Anshu.”

  “OK. Sleep well, my friend.”

  39

  Back in the U.K.

  It was Saturday, and the sun was out. The promenade at Hunstanton was bustling with happy, smiling people. They were there for the great British seaside experience: fish and chips, ice-cream, sticks of rock, candy floss and a number of different species of dead sea-life immersed in vinegar.

  Babies were dressed in fancy swimsuits and were wearing kiss-me-quick hats. Smiling people were writing funny messages on saucy postcards and sending them to friends around the world. The amusement arcades were making penny fortunes from people who were splashing out their hard-earned savings, all in the hope of winning a cheap watch or a real fake gold Galleon to spend in Diagon Alley. There were even one or two people swimming in the sea.

  Lucy was walking along the promenade with Mary. They’d finished eating their fish & chips and were now enjoying the view along the sandy beach. The weather was warm with a slight sea breeze coming off the water, just enough to move their hair.

  As they walked, arms folded into each other, they watched the waves working their way up the shoreline destroying the sandcastles that had been built too close to the edge.

  Since returning home, Lucy had been having the same reoccurring nightmare - the woman she’d shot was standing in front of her, bleeding and crying, except it was herself looking back. She would wake up in the middle of the night, covered in a cold sweat.

  She’d also started to imagine there were people in the house, trying to kill her. There never was, but the thought still gave her the shivers.

  When she was out walking with Mary she had a feeling they were being watched, she kept turning around to see if anybody was following them. She thought, “if we were being followed, I probably wouldn’t see them anyway.” But it didn’t stop her from checking every few minutes.

  She hadn’t told Mary what had happened or what she’d done. Her friend would’ve tried making her go to the police, thinking they could sort the problem out.

  They continued their stroll and went to a nearby pastry shop they frequented whenever they were in the area. Finding a space at a window table, they sat next to a young couple who were having coffee and pointing out to sea, obviously enjoying the day.

  Lucy and Mary started to people watch but this soon moved on to how the tourists coming in was good for the local economy.

  Lucy decided to tell Mary about Bill but left out how he’d died. She just said when they’d turned up, they’d found him having a fit on the floor and he’d died later in hospital. Mary said she was sad to hear about Bill, they’d known him for years and he always looked really fit and healthy.

  "I suppose everyone has to die at some point," she said, sadly.

  They finished their tea and cake and set off along the promenade, passing the old lighthouse, until they came to the cliffs. They then turned and walked back.

  “Have you been to see the seals?” Mary asked. She was looking out at the lorry, which was now up to its chassis in the sea.

  “Yes, but a long time ago.”

  “Would you like to go again, now? My treat.”

  “Are you sure?" Lucy said. “I can’t promise I won’t feel sick, but okay.”

  Mary clapped excitedly, then wrapped her arms around Lucy and hugged her close.

  At the booking hut, Mary paid for two tickets, then holding Lucy’s hand they waited in the queue, excitedly chatting about sitting at the front of the boat.

  The young couple from the café arrived and booked two tickets as well. They came over and stood behind them.

  “Hello," the young lady smiled.

  Lucy smiled back, recognising them from the café. "Hello."

  The young couple introduced themselves and said they’d heard them mention the seals. "We didn’t know you could get a ride out to watch them," they smiled. They turned and looked out to sea, pointing at the ships and chatting about the day they’d had.

  The boat ride was very enjoyable. Mary and Lucy spent most of the time looking at the aquatic life, the seals mainly, and chatting with the young couple.

  They'd recently got married and were travelling around Norfolk on their honeymoon. They were looking for places to park their van and pitch their tent for the night.

  "We're just touring around, looking at all the beautiful places Britain has to offer. We're off to Europe next week," she said. "We're going to drive down through France and work our way through to Italy, then take a ferry across to Slovakia."

  "You can pitch at mine tonight if you want to," Lucy suggested.

  "We couldn't possibly do that!" she said.

  "I don't mind, really. If it'll help you out!"

  They introduced themselves as Helen and Gavin, then spent the rest of the day looking at the sights with Lucy and Mary.

  Lucy gave them her address and phone number and said she’d see them later.

  The young couple arrived just after nine pm, they set their tent down the side of the house. Lucy gave them a k
ey to the back door so they could use the bathroom.

  At eleven thirty, Helen yawned. Gavin looked at her, "Tired, darling?"

  "Hmm. It's been a long day." She turned to Lucy, "Thank you so much, Lucy. You've been very kind."

  The next morning, before they left, Lucy cooked them breakfast. They spent the next hour chatting about where they were heading next and where the closest petrol station was. Just after ten am they went on their way, promising to be in touch the next time they were in the area.

  When the couple left, they looked at each other and smiled. They couldn’t believe how easy it had been. They’d gone into the cottage when Lucy was asleep and replanted all the devices Lucy had ripped out. As they drove off, they high-fived each other and smiled.

  40

  The next morning, just as the sun was rising, they approached their first checkpoint on the western outskirts of Baghdad. Anshu had informed them that the clothes they were wearing were no longer used in the area unless you travelled the desert all the time, so he had clothed them out in the local attire.

  “Checkpoint ahead,” Dave warned.

  “OK. I will do the talking,” Anshu said.

  As they approached, a guard flagged them over, directing the driver to drive to an area sectioned off at the side of the road.

  “Marhaba!” Anshu greeted, as he wound his window down.

  Bob, Dave and Harry smiled, nodding. Dave fidgeted as he watched the soldiers check them out, their weapons across their chests, ready.

  The conversation between Anshu and the soldier sounded heated, but Dave knew that's how a lot of the locals spoke to each other. He still didn't trust Anshu, though. Something about his manner told him to be cautious around him.

  Ten minutes later, and a hundred thousand dinars down, about fifty pounds, and they were driving to the next checkpoint. In all, it cost them just over three hundred thousand dinars to leave Baghdad, but at least they were alive.

  They headed towards Fallujah, then on towards Habbaniyah Lake to meet with the contact Anshu had set up.