Алистер Маклин - Borrowed Time

‘I don’t think I can.’

‘When the time comes, do what I told you,’ Sabrina said. ‘Do what we’ve gone over and over. I’ll lead the way, all you have to do is follow, and have faith.’

Deena nodded and took a deep shaky breath. ‘I am very afraid. I can’t help that. I’m sorry.’

‘Afraid is better than too confident.’ Sabrina squeezed Deena’s arm. ‘Afraid is cautious and alert.’

Throughout the night there had been sounds in the temple, distant creaks and clicks, the sounds of shrinkage in wood, cooling in glass and in stone. Now there was a different sound, harder, louder. It grew and there was a sudden bump from the direction of the temple door.

‘They’re back,’ Sabrina whispered.

Deena let out a whimper and clamped her hand over her mouth.

‘Act drowsy, as if you’ve chewed up all the bhang.’

The sounds of boots on the tiled floor shuffled and bumped at random. The men muttered and once or twice they laughed. The two women sat side by side on a blanket, scarcely breathing. Their heads were bowed, making them look obsequious and small, the very opposite of a threat.

‘They are coming,’ Deena whispered.

‘Sit tight. Just be ready. Your wits’ll do the rest.’

Feet approached along the passage outside and a key clattered in the lock. The door swung open, letting in bright morning light. Sabrina kept her head down on her chest. Deena did the same. From under lowered eyelids Sabrina saw two pairs of boots, standing two metres away. A moment later tin plates were placed on the floor, each with a pile of yellow rice and chopped vegetables. Another dish of marijuana leaves was put beside them.

One of the men clapped his hands. Sabrina pretended to wake up. Her hand slid under the blanket.

The man leaned down and pushed the plate towards her. Sabrina’s hand swung out from under the blanket clutching a chair leg. It went up at speed, hitting the man on the jaw, and came down faster, cracking him behind the ear.

As he fell Sabrina sprang to her feet. The second man drew a knife and lunged at her. Deena threw herself at him and wrapped her arms round his legs. He toppled and Sabrina swiped him savagely across the throat with the chair leg, cutting off his voice before he could shout.

Deena rolled away as the man landed on his back. She jumped to her feet. Sabrina stooped over him. She pocketed his knife as she put her index and middle finger on the side of his neck.

‘What is it?’ Deena was wide-eyed, shaking violently. ‘What is it?’

‘He’s dead.’

‘But he can’t be!’

‘It’s called vagal inhibition. It takes too long to explain.’

Sabrina took the pistol from the waist of the dead man’s trousers and shoved it in the baggy pocket of her jacket.

‘See if the other one has a gun, Deena. Hurry!’

Deena dropped to her knees and searched the man. ‘Nothing. No gun, no knife.’

‘Come on.’ Sabrina pulled the door wide and saw Deena was staring at the dead man. ‘It’s them or us, Deena! Now come on! Hurry!’

They ran along the passage on their toes, making no sound, Sabrina clutching the chair leg, straining her ears, trying to pick up sounds as they approached the door to the temple.

There was a small oval window in the door. Sabrina peered through it. The temple looked empty. She squinted the other way. The main door was half open. Beyond it she saw golden loamy earth and trees. She took the gun from her pocket and elbowed open the door.

‘Stick close, Deena.’

They slid into the temple. Five metres in, Sabrina put a finger to her lips and paused. She looked all around her. The place was silent and empty. She pointed at the main door. They made their way steadily towards it, keeping to the wall, Deena panting softly.

Three metres from the door Sabrina saw a rifle leaning against a pillar. She ran across the tiles to get it. Halfway there she froze at a sound behind her. She spun and saw Hafi in the open doorway of an anteroom. He had his arm around Deena’s waist. His other hand held a long pointed knife at her throat.

‘Put down the gun and I will not kill her.’

Sabrina knew that was nonsense. He would cut Deena’s throat whether she put down the gun or not. To avoid a catastrophe Sabrina needed time, a few seconds at least.

‘All right,’ she said, ‘all right, I’m putting the gun down. Don’t harm her. I’m putting it down.’

Sabrina crouched slowly, her arm outstretched as she put the gun on the floor. As it touched the tiles she watched Hafi’s eyes. She stood up again, still watching him, waiting for the movement in his eyes, the split-second signal.

It came and an instant later the point of the knife moved. Sabrina threw the chair leg. It struck Hafi’s wrist with a crack. He howled and dropped the knife. Deena whirled away from him.

A bound and a jump put Sabrina on top of Hafi, shoving him backwards, ruining his balance. She kicked his right foot clear of the floor as her weight carried him down. As he hit the floor he twisted sideways, holding on to Sabrina’s arms, putting her under him. She tried to lift herself. Hafi banged her in the mouth with his elbow, stretched out his arm and snatched up his knife from the floor.

‘Get off me!’

Sabrina punched him in the neck. She drew back her fist for a second shot and felt the point of the knife against her cheek. She let her arm drop to the floor.

Panting hard, his breath hot on Sabrina’s face, Hafi let all his weight settle on her. He shifted the knife from her cheek to the tip of her nose. He inched the pointed end of the blade down the entrance to her nostril. Sabrina tried not to move her head. Her hand slid to her pocket.

‘Let me tell you what I will do now, Petrushka,’ Hafi grunted. ‘I will split your nose to the eyebrows, then I will fillet your face. Have you heard of such a thing? Have you?’

She had. She had seen it, too. Her fingers closed round the handle of the knife in her pocket. She drew it out slowly.

‘Please don’t do that to me,’ she said.

‘Aw.’ The knife edge touched the margin of her nostril. ‘A big tough Russian girl like you is frightened? Surely not. I would have thought–’

Hafi stopped talking. He stiffened and jerked back. His eyes went wide. He sucked air with a rasping noise as the knife in Sabrina’s hand sliced upward between his ribs and punctured his heart.

Sabrina pushed him off her and jumped to her feet. Deena was crouched by the wall, whimpering into her cupped hands. Hafi lay in a frozen, buckled spasm. Blood flowed from his mouth. As brain function disintegrated, his body twitched and jerked, the knife sticking hideously from his chest, his boots and belt making scratching noises that echoed through the temple.

Deena yelped. Sabrina turned and saw the man whose knife she had taken. He had snatched up the rifle from against the pillar and was pointing it at her.

She didn’t hesitate. She dropped to her knees, forcing him to adjust the angle of the gun. Her left hand found the pistol she had put on the floor. It was in her hand and pointing at the bandit as his finger tightened on the rifle trigger. Sabrina fired three times and put three holes in his face. He jerked backwards and fell across a marble table. The rifle fell from his hand without firing.

Sabrina got up, pocketed the gun and went to Deena. She was trembling so hard she couldn’t make herself speak.

‘Listen to me,’ Sabrina said. ‘What has happened here will make a miniature earthquake. It will mean a huge change in the balance of criminal power in these parts. Hafi’s followers will be really sore about that. So I have to get well away from here, and so do you.’

Among the bags of money by the altar Sabrina found her own shoulder bag. She checked and was again grateful to find that everything she valued was intact – even her gun, snug below the false bottom. She snatched up a leather folder full of papers and stuffed it into her bag.