Counterfeit (The Jim Slater series Book 2) Page 3

  The heat was enervating and Vince and Idowu soon dozed off. Around 1100 hours I heard the noise of approaching vehicles. I switched on the receiver to initiate recording. Vince and Idowu were wide awake now and watching the screen over my shoulder. Two SUVs arrived and the passengers got out. The tall figure in the front looked trim and fit; even on the video he had a commanding presence. He was accompanied by two executive-looking types carrying thin brief cases. Max Keller emerged from the second vehicle with two of his boys, and I made a mental note that the tall man must be Cuprex’s CEO, Mark Ridout. The drivers joined them and everyone walked towards the lodge and disappeared from the coverage of the camera.

  It was forty minutes before we heard the drone of another engine. This time it was a single vehicle, a black eight-seater all-wheel drive, shining through a thin coating of dust. I hadn’t come across one of these before but I could bet it cost plenty. The doors opened. The group that got out and moved towards the lodge was led by a big man, big enough that he had to walk with a kind of swagger, arms hung out wide. As he approached the lodge and passed under the camera I got a good look at him: broad cheeks, flat nose, eyes that were small in that face and slightly tilted. They could have been the beardless features of a fat young schoolboy, but there was no innocence in that expression, just a weighty self-assurance. As he disappeared from view the three behind him came into shot, a woman and two men, carrying document cases. Following them were the driver and three more men, all heavily built.

  Now everyone was in place and presumably the negotiations would begin. I drew camo’d scrim around the monitor screen so it wouldn’t betray our presence, and left the receiver in record mode.

  An hour dragged by. I stretched, first my back, then my arms, then one leg at a time, and circled each way with my head, trying to ease the aches out of my joints. A ten-mile tab was preferable to sitting in hot, cramped conditions like this. The others broke out some ration bars. It seemed like a good idea so I did the same. I chewed thoughtfully. Surely if the Russians were going to pull something they wouldn’t have waited this long? Maybe Keller was wrong about this and I’d just got sucked into the general flap. Then again, maybe not. The American negotiators would be in constant touch with their counterparts stateside via satellite – that way their colleagues back home could use specialist software to explore the implications of various offers. If the Russians withdrew too soon it would look suspicious. Something could yet happen.

  I was edgy, looking over my shoulder towards the centre of the woodland, where I’d expect any attackers to approach, and back at the screen. I was about to glance away from the screen again when I spotted movement. People were coming out of the lodge. At first I couldn’t decide which party it was; then I saw the fat man and I knew. They all headed for the big black eight-seater and got in.

  I waited. Were they just consulting?

  An engine started up, and on the screen the big vehicle manoeuvred and drove away.

  I opened the comms channel to David. He responded immediately.

  “Red One.”

  I kept my voice low. “Green One. The Russian team’s left. Looks like game on.”

  No sooner had I said it than I felt a hand on my arm. I turned and found Idowu fixing me with his eyes, a finger to his lips. Something was coming.

  Idowu’s hearing is uncanny. At first I couldn’t make out anything. Then I became aware of a low-frequency thumping, and soon afterwards other sounds like the cracking of twigs. We shrank into the shadows.

  Vince screwed his face up in disgust. “Holy shit,” he murmured. “Didn’t anyone stealth train these guys? Sounds like a herd of elephants.”

  A few moments later Idowu split the gloom with his dazzling smile. “I have news for you, Vince. It is a herd of elephants.”

  Vince’s jaw dropped and his head snapped round. Just beyond the trees, and only metres away, the first of the elephants, a huge female, lumbered past. She was followed by two more, almost as large, and as their massive limbs swung to and fro we spotted a small calf trotting to keep pace with them. Three young adults followed and another large female brought up the rear. Behind them a cloud of dust fanned the air with sunbeams. It looked like they were heading for the front of the lodge.

  I soon picked them up on the screen. The paving around the lakes stopped them from getting in, but they were drinking the water, then sucking it up and curling their trunks to spray it over their backs. The water was evidently irresistible, despite the proximity of humans, and presumably the lodge had become a regular watering hole for them. The staff wouldn’t have discouraged it because their guests would enjoy the spectacle.

  “Shit,” Vince muttered, straightening up. “That complicates things.”

  It certainly did. With the Russians gone, Keller would have rounded up the party from Cuprex for a rapid exit, only to find this little lot between them and the vehicles. I cursed. Just a minute earlier and they would have made it. Now the picture was completely different. The elephants would not be leaving any time soon, and Keller would know better than to walk through a group of large females with a calf in their midst, so the party was trapped in the lodge.

  Things had changed for us, too. If a bunch of hostiles was on the way we no longer had a choice: we had to engage.

  I was about to speak to David when Idowu laid a hand on my arm again. I waited, listening, and gradually a swishing noise began to intrude on my senses. Presently I spotted a movement and we ducked down.

  Shafts of sunlight filtered through the tree canopy. A few moments later they were slipping over a succession of camo uniforms and glinting on dark glasses and the barrels of assault rifles. The men were moving quietly through that thin vegetation in the centre of the woodland. I started to count: five… ten… fifteen… They were close enough to leave behind the acrid smell of sweating bodies. Yet more passed and I kept counting. By the time the last ones came through I’d got to twenty-three.

  Twenty-three! It was vast overkill for a job like this and we were outnumbered four to one. But that wasn’t all. Each of those soldiers had a thin green ribbon sewn into his sleeve: the insignia of The Green Liberation Army. Africa had seen some ruthless militias, but even by their standards the GLA’s reputation was extreme. Their total strength was unknown, but it was probably no more than a thousand, divided into a number of small operational units. Their exploits were a catalogue of horrors that sent waves of terror through the countryside. They initiated teenagers into their ranks by making them torture their own families to death, one at a time, surrounded by cheering soldiers who applauded and encouraged every fresh act of brutality. Thereafter discipline was based on a mixture of reward – usually the right to rape and loot – and extreme punishment for any act of failure or cowardice. God knows how the Russians had managed to contact this mob, but they couldn’t have recruited a nastier band of thugs to do their dirty work.

  I looked over my shoulder at the others. Vince pointed to his sleeve and I nodded. I could see the whites of Idowu’s eyes and knew exactly what he was thinking.

  We’d better not fuck this up.

  4

  The militiamen paused before the open ground. I heard no voices and I guessed they were using hand signals. I quickly checked the front of the lodge on the monitor screen and froze. A soldier was crouching up there, just beyond the lakes. The assault rifle he was carrying was fitted with an under-barrel grenade launcher.

  Shit! How the hell did he get up there? He must have come by a different route!

  About ten metres to his right the elephants were still drinking and spraying water. He was certainly closer than I’d want to be. The nearest animal, a huge matriarch, turned her head majestically towards him and flapped her ears. I noticed him glance uneasily in her direction.

  Then I heard the tramp of boots and snapped round. The main group was breaking out of the cover of the trees and running up towards the lodge.

  I opened the comms channel.

  “Select targe
ts but hold your fire. Wait for my order.”

  In preparation, I brought down the arming switch on the panel in front of me.

  They were well up the slope now. I had to time this to perfection: if I waited too long they’d deploy left and right round the lodge and we’d lose our best chance; if I acted too soon I’d leave soldiers behind in the woodland. Vince and Idowu had their rifles levelled. They looked at me, waiting for the signal. Vince moistened his lips.

  I reached for the panel and pressed the first two buttons, detonating the pencil mines closest to the lake area. There were two loud reports followed immediately by a tremendous bellowing and trumpeting from the elephants. I watched on the screen as the soldier with the grenade launcher stood up, then began to run and almost immediately fell under the feet of the panic-stricken elephants stampeding away from the lodge.

  The soldiers stopped in their tracks, hovering uncertainly. I began to press the remaining buttons in random order. Up and down the slope the ground erupted in small, lethal explosions. It looked like heavy incoming and they spun about in confusion. One man went down.

  I gave the order:

  “Engage!”

  The militiamen started to tumble in the withering crossfire. One or two threw themselves to the ground and returned fire and we heard the bullets zinging and tapping through the leaves above our heads. But we were under cover and they were in full view. As each one was hit we concentrated fire on those remaining until quite suddenly all the shooting stopped, leaving a silence that pressed on my eardrums.

  A movement caught my eye. Two soldiers were running low along the wall of the lodge. If they made it to the rear of the building there was a real danger of losing them. Someone else had spotted it, too, because a figure broke out of the opposite side of the woodland and began to run up after them. I narrowed my eyes against the bright sunlight and saw it was Sally Kent. It was gutsy but…

  The men suddenly dropped into a slight depression, turned, and opened fire. Sally fell. We started to put down suppressing fire but dust spurted in a line down the slope and I winced as Sally’s body jerked. Then I heard a shout from David as he appeared at the edge of the woodland and sprinted, doubled over, to where she was.

  My blood turned to ice. I bit my lip, muttering, “No, David, no!”

  Bullets were flying in both directions as he hurled himself on top of her and set both of them rolling down the slope.

  “Vince!” I shouted, but Vince had already moved into position, setting the laser rangefinder on his weapon. I heard the thud of the under-barrel launcher, and a brilliant flash appeared above the two militiamen as the smart grenade exploded, followed by the tinkle of glass from lodge windows that had been blown in. For a brief instant a puff of white smoke hung in the air, small tendrils radiating in every direction. There was no more firing.

  “Vince, Idowu,” I said, pointing at the slope. “Tidy up.” And I ran towards Sally and David.

  Sally was lying on her back, her face grey. David had already torn the blood-soaked trouser leg away and he was applying a pressure pad. He secured it, then said, “Back in a moment.”

  I kneeled at her side and she looked up at me.

  “The Nanovlar took the first round,” she said, waving a finger feebly at a tear in the body armour, “but the bastard got me in the leg after I went down.”

  She made no complaint, although the leg already looked swollen and I could bet there was a painful bruise spreading under that body armour, too. I opened my own medical pack and gave her a shot of morphine. She knew the routine and held still as I used the small marker in the pack to write the dose and time on her forehead.

  David came back. He’d detached the under-barrel of his assault rifle and now he used it as a splint, strapping Sally’s wounded leg to it as firmly as he could. He looked over his shoulder at me.

  “Lot of bleeding. From the trajectory it could have hit the bone. I’m not taking chances.”

  “Hang in there, Sal,” I said. “We’ll get you to a hospital as quick as we can.”

  Her eyes rolled a little. “It’s nice… and warm.”

  “Good,” I said to David, “the morphine’s kicking in.”

  Charlie came down from the top of the slope, where he’d evidently checked on the two who’d made a dash for it. Vince and Idowu joined us.

  “Any survivors?”

  They shook their heads.

  “They wouldn’t have talked anyway. Charlie, Vince, you carry Sal. Nice and easy, now. Idowu, you go ahead of them and get the vehicles out of cover. Strap her in across the back seat. We’ll travel three and three.”

  When they’d left, I turned to David. “Captain, going out to her under fire like that was truly fucking stupid.”

  He grinned at me, his face glowing. “I know.”

  I could almost read his mind. He’d probably acted out of the best of motives. At the same time he was aware that his little escapade would raise his stock no end with the ORs. I punched him lightly on the arm.

  “Well done, anyway. Come on.”

  As we approached the lodge I said, “You go with the others. I’m just going to have a word with our friends in the lodge.”

  As I started over the bridge Keller made a cautious appearance at the entrance.

  “What the fuck was all that about?”

  “You were right. Two dozen militiamen. You would have been toast.” I saw the alarm in his eyes and went on, “Don’t worry. They won’t be giving us any more trouble.”

  “Jesus, they said you guys were good. What about the elephants?”

  “Yeah, they helped.”

  “Wh…?”

  “Never mind. Get your party into the vehicles and wait for us. We’ll escort you, one in front, one behind.”

  “Right.”

  As he went back inside I noticed the frightened group of staff watching us from the doorway.

  I said, “Who’s in charge here?”

  A tall African stepped forward. “Who are you?” he demanded.

  “Never mind that,” I snapped. “You people have just survived an attack by militia of the Green Liberation Army. There are two dozen lying dead out there. If their friends come looking for them you’re not going to get a second chance. You have transport?”

  “We can use the safari trucks.”

  “Good, get your people into them and clear out of here – fast.”

  “We should contact the police, and the army—”

  “Okay, but get out first.”

  I turned my back and walked over to where Idowu was already standing with our vehicles. As I did so I realised that Mark Ridout had yet to make an appearance. I wasn’t anxious to speak to him. Keller would take charge of his people now.

  *

  Our little convoy moved off. I was in the lead with Idowu in the back seat and Vince, next to me, was driving as fast as he dared. It was a rutted road and I knew the bumping would be hard on Sally back there in the other vehicle but the quicker we could get her to proper medical help the better her chances.

  We’d travelled about five miles down the trail when I spotted a plume of smoke rising between the trees ahead.

  “Oh shit, not more trouble. Stop here.”

  I got out and ran back.

  “There’s something up ahead. You civilians stay put and keep your heads down.” I went right back to the vehicle fetching up the rear. “David, you stay with Sal. Charlie – with me.”

  We approached warily, rifles in our hands. When we’d rounded the bend in the trail we just stood there, speechless. There was no doubt about it. The smoking wreckage in front of us was all that remained of the big Russian eight-seater.

  “Fan out,” I said quietly. “It could be an ambush.”

  Charlie went off the trail to the left and Idowu and Vince to the right. I crept forward, feeling a trickle of sweat inside my collar.

  The heat from the burning vehicle was tremendous and I couldn’t get close. Some of the metal had actually melted
. If anyone had been inside they’d have had no chance whatever. I retreated, then whistled softly and the others joined me further back on the trail.

  “What was it, an IED?” Charlie asked.

  “That or an RPG. Hard to tell at the moment.”

  “There must be more of that militia around.”

  I rubbed my fingers through the moist hair at the nape of my neck.

  “I don’t get it. If the Russians were paying those guys, what was the point of wiping them out? It doesn’t make any sense – unless it was a different militia.”

  Vince pointed. “The brush is thinner on this side if we want to get around it.”

  Idowu grimaced. “They could be waiting further up the trail. We could go the same way as this lot.”

  “You’re right,” I said. “But we’ve got to get Sal to a hospital or she’ll bleed to death. It’s a gamble but my feeling is, we have to take it. What do you say?”

  They pulled faces and nodded.

  “Okay, but keep your eyes skinned. Charlie, tell David: windows down, rifles out. If you see anything move, shoot first and ask questions later. We’ll do the same.”

  We rejoined our small convoy and started to roll.

  5

  “And did you encounter any further trouble?”

  “No,” I replied, flicking off the wall screen, which I’d used to illustrate my report. The room lightened automatically as the electrodimming on the windows relaxed. “No further trouble.”

  The question had come from Helena Brooke-Masters, Deputy Secretary of State. It was Bob Cressington, Secretary of State for Defense, and Ted Zander, Secretary for Commerce, who’d asked for this meeting with General Harken, and they wanted me to give them a first-hand account. The conference room was on the fifth floor of the Pentagon. My rank, my I.D., and my invitation from Bob got me as far as the E-ring, but it was major league up here and I was checked more thoroughly and held until I was collected. Right now I was looking along the length of a highly polished table on which there were digital note pads, crystal tumblers, clusters of soft drinks, and bowls of peppermints. The four were seated together on one side.