Алистер Маклин - Time of the Assassins

‘I’ll go out first then you can–’ Graham stopped abruptly when someone rapped sharply on the door.

They exchanged anxious glances then Sabrina stepped back and trained her Uzi on the door. Graham took up a position by the window. A voice called out through the door. Graham and Sabrina looked to Tambese for an interpretation.

‘They were names,’ Tambese whispered. ‘Whoever it is probably saw that the two guards weren’t in the watchtower and thinks they might be in here with the guard.’

‘I’m going outside,’ Graham said softly, placing Tambese’s Uzi on the table. ‘We’ll be trapped in here if he raises the alarm.’

Both Tambese and Sabrina nodded their agreement. Graham pulled the blind up carefully then eased himself gingerly through the window and landed silently on the ground outside. His breathing was shallow and ragged as he moved cautiously towards the edge of the building. There was another knock at the door, this time louder, and the voice called out again in Swahili. He wiped his sweating face as he reached the end of the wall. He gripped the Uzi tightly in his hands then swivelled round to challenge the guard. The man, who was dressed in a pair of shorts and a vest, looked round sharply at Graham, his eyes narrowed in surprise and amazement. He held an AK-47 at his side. Graham indicated for him to drop it. The man swallowed nervously then jerked the barrel up towards Graham who shot him in the chest with a burst from his silenced Uzi. The man stumbled backwards, lost his footing on the steps, and as he fell his finger squeezed the trigger and a row of bullets ripped into the wall several feet above Graham’s head. The noise echoed around the delicate silence. Graham cursed loudly. It would only be a matter of seconds before the whole compound converged on them. He shot off the lock and kicked the door in. Tambese, who already had Mobuto in a fireman’s lift on his shoulders, hurried down the stairs and lumbered laboriously towards the manhole. He could already see several lights on in the barracks.

Sabrina threw Tambese’s Uzi to Graham and they ran ahead, waiting for the first of the rebels to appear.

They were still a good sixty yards away from the manhole. A window pane was smashed in the barracks and the barrel of an AK-47 pushed through the aperture. Graham, holding an Uzi in each hand, raked all four of the windows facing out towards them, spraying glass across the floor of the barracks. The AK-47 disappeared. The door was flung open and a rebel darted through but was cut down by Graham before he could fire. The momentum of his body cartwheeled him across the ground and he came to rest in a crumpled heap several yards from where he had been shot. Graham and Sabrina stood their ground and raked the windows and door of the barracks, giving Tambese precious seconds to get closer to the manhole. Graham tossed one of the Uzis away when the magazine was spent then snapped a fresh clip into the other Uzi and shouted to Sabrina to keep up with Tambese in case any of the rebels were waiting behind the building for them. She nodded then sprinted after Tambese as Graham raked the side of the barracks again.

He continued until the clip was finished. He ejected it, pushed his last clip into place, then ran towards the manhole. The clip ran out as he reached the end of the building. He darted round the side and stopped abruptly as he found himself facing half-a-dozen rebels, all armed with AK-47s. He could see two of their dead colleagues sprawled close to the manhole. And there was no sign of the others. He grinned.

They’d made it. A man who had been standing beside the manhole turned round and looked at Graham.

He was dressed in a grey tracksuit. Graham immediately recognized him as Tito Ngune. His face still bore the bruises from the lynching he’d received several days earlier in Habane.

‘That was quite a show, Mr Graham,’ Ngune said. ‘Don’t worry, though, we’ll catch your companions before very long. They can’t travel very fast under those conditions.’

‘You speak good English for a barbarian,’ Graham retorted, eyeing Ngune contemptuously.

Ngune smiled. ‘Drop the gun, please.’

Graham tossed it onto the ground. He heard the footsteps behind him and was still turning when the butt of an AK-47 crashed against the back of his head. He was unconscious before he hit the ground.

‘We can’t leave Mike back there,’ Sabrina snapped.

‘We’ll have to, at least for the moment,’ Tambese replied through gritted teeth as he struggled to get a better grip on Mobuto.

Sabrina felt gutted. What would happen to Graham? She refused to even think about it. But she knew Tambese was right. There was nothing they could do for him, not without getting caught themselves. They had only managed to get out with seconds to spare before the rebels had descended on the manhole like a plague of rats. She knew she had shot three of them from inside the sewer. One had fallen through the opening and landed in the water. She also knew it would only be a matter of time before a team would be sent after them.

‘There’s a cover about five hundred yards from here. We can get out there.’

‘That’s crazy,’ Sabrina shot back. ‘The rebels will have found the holdall by now. And that means they’ll have the blueprint. They’re sure to have men waiting at all the manholes by now.’

‘Trust me, Sabrina.’

She didn’t pursue the matter. It could wait. She had to concentrate fully on keeping them alive until they reached safety, wherever that may be. After all, she was the only one who was armed. Then she heard it – footsteps. It couldn’t have been an echo of their own footsteps. They were both wearing rubber-soled shoes. These were boots. And there were more than one pair.

She peered into the gloom behind them, not that she could see much further than a few yards in front of her. The lights, which were mounted on the opposite wall at intervals of forty yards, were weak and several of them had fused and never been replaced. If her friends could see her now. The thought brought a faint smile to her lips and helped to calm the sudden burst of anxiety that had swept over her.

Had Tambese heard the footsteps as well? If he had, he wasn’t saying anything.

Then she saw a movement in the shadows thirty yards behind them. She was about to fire then she eased her finger off the trigger. Conserve your ammo, girl, she said to herself. She was down to her last clip and she didn’t know how many bullets were left in it. She flicked the fire selector from automatic to single fire.

Another silhouette flitted across the shadows. Again she held back.

But why hadn’t they opened fire? Unless they had instructions to bring them back alive? Possibly. The thought was still lingering when a figure appeared momentarily in a shaft of light behind her. She fired.

There was an anguished cry followed a moment later by a loud splash.

‘What was that?’ Tambese called out over his shoulder.

‘That was one of the rebels,’ Sabrina replied.

‘Why didn’t you say we were being followed?’

‘I thought you’d have heard the footsteps.’

‘No, I didn’t hear anything,’ Tambese replied guiltily.

‘Don’t worry about it, you just keep moving. How far’s this manhole now?’

‘A hundred yards or so,’ Tambese replied.

‘Thank God for that,’ she muttered.

A bullet cracked against the roof of the sewer above them. Sabrina cursed under her breath. If only she had the torch. Then she saw another movement and she fired again. But there wasn’t any anguished cry this time. This time she cursed herself for firing blindly. The footsteps suddenly grew louder. Bullets began chipping against the walls around them, but they were still only warning shots. Even so, Sabrina found herself doubled over as she moved backwards, her eyes continually darting behind her to make sure she didn’t get too close to the edge of the path. Then they came into view. She counted at least seven of them, and they were closing in fast, their AK-47s held in front of them.