Десмонд Бэгли - The Spoilers

Tozier laughed. ‘They’re just as explosive if not handled right. Give it to me.’ He tried the squeeze test and added a little more oil. This proved to be too much and the mixture was rebalanced by the addition of fertilizer and charcoal. It was quite a time before he pronounced himself satisfied, but at last he said, ‘That’s it; now we make the bomb.’

He took the tube, checked that the plug was screwed home firmly, and began to stuff the explosive mixture into the other end, using a long bolt to ram it down. Follet watched him for a while, then said tensely, ‘Andy — stop right there.’

Tozier froze. ‘What’s on your mind?’

‘That’s a steel tube, isn’t it?’ asked Follet.

‘So?’

‘And you’re using a steel bolt as a ramrod. For Christ’s sake, don’t strike a spark! ’

Tozier eased out his breath. ‘I’ll try not to,’ he said, and used the bolt much more carefully. He crammed the tube full of the mixture, well packed down, took the clock and set it, then pressed the detonator spike into the end. ‘There’s a few bits of sheet metal back there, and the box Warren is sitting on is screwed together. That’s how we fasten it to the door.’

It took a long time because they had to work quietly, fearing to attract the attention of the guards outside. Tozier’s small penknife, which they used as a makeshift screwdriver, had all its blades broken by the time they were finished. He regarded the bomb critically, then looked at his watch. ‘It took longer than I expected; it’s nearly five now — just over half an hour to go.’

‘I don’t want to appear difficult,’ said Follet. ‘But we’re now locked in a cave with a bomb that’s about to explode. Have you thought of that little thing?’

‘We should be safe enough lying at the back behind those boxes.’

‘I’m glad we have a doctor along,’ said Follet. ‘You might come in useful, Nick, if that firecracker really works. I’m going to pick me a good safe place right now.’

Warren and Tozier followed him to the back of the cave where they built a rough barricade of boxes, then they lay down using the sacks of straw as improvised mattresses. The next half hour crawled by and Warren was mightily astonished to find himself nodding off to sleep. If anyone had told him this could — or would — happen in such a critical circumstance he would have laughed; yet it was not surprising considering that this was his second night without sleep.

Tozier’s elbow jerked him into wakefulness. ‘Five minutes — get ready.’

Warren found his mind full of questions. Would Tozier’s ridiculous bomb work? If it did, would it work well enough? Or too well? Follet had already expressed his apprehensions on that score.

‘Four minutes,’ said Tozier, his eyes on his watch. ‘Johnny, you go first, then Nick. I’ll bring up the rear.’

The seconds ticked by and Warren found himself becoming very tense. His mouth was dry and he had an odd feeling in his stomach as though he was very hungry. In a detached manner one part of his mind checked off the symptoms and he thought — So this is what it’s like to be frightened.

Tozier said, ‘Three minutes,’ and as he said it there was a sound from the door. ‘Hell’s teeth!’ he exclaimed. ‘Someone’s coming in.’

Follet grunted. ‘A hell of a time to pick.’

Tozier raised his head cautiously as the door creaked open, and saw men silhouetted against the grey light of dawn. The mocking voice of Ahmed echoed from the stone walls. ‘What — all asleep? No guilty consciences here?’

Tozier pushed himself up on one elbow and stretched as though just aroused from sleep. ‘What the hell do you want now?’ he said in a grumbling voice.

‘I want somebody to talk,’ said Ahmed. ‘Who shall it be? Who do you think we should take first, Mr Tozier?’

Tozier played for time. He looked at his watch and said, ‘You start too early for my liking. Come back in an hour. Better still, don’t come back at all.’ One and a half minutes to go .

Ahmed spread his hands. ‘I regret I cannot oblige you. My father sleeps lightly — he is an old man — and he is now awake and impatient.’

‘All right,’ said Tozier. ‘Wake up, you two. I’ll give you one minute to be on your feet. One minute, do you hear?’

Warren heard the emphasis and pressed himself to the floor of the cave. He said, ‘What is it, Andy? I’m tired.’

‘Ah, Mr Warren,’ said Ahmed. ‘I trust you slept well.’ His voice sharpened. ‘Up with you, all of you; or do I have to have you dragged out? My father is waiting to entertain you with some of our typical Kurdish hospitality.’ He laughed.

Tozier took one glance at him before throwing himself flat. Ahmed was still laughing when the bomb exploded. It blew the door off its hinges and hurled it bodily at the laughing man and swept him aside to smear him bloodily against the rock wall. Dust billowed and far away someone screamed.

‘Move!’ yelled Tozier.

Follet was first out of the door as planned. He skidded to the left and stumbled over a body on the ledge and nearly went over the edge of the cliff. Warren, right behind him, shot out his arm and grabbed him before he toppled.

Follet recovered and plunged forward along the ledge. At the top of the path there was a guard, his mouth opened in surprise and desperately trying to unsling his rifle. Follet was on him before he could get the rifle free, and hit him in the face with his closed fist. The fist was wrapped around a big steel bolt and Warren distinctly heard the crunch as the man’s jawbone was smashed. The guard gave a choked wail and fell aside and the way down the narrow path was open.

Follet ran down it at a dangerous speed, slipping and sliding, with his boots starting miniature avalanches of dust and pebbles. Warren stumbled over a loose stone and pitched forward and for one blind moment thought he was going to fall, but Tozier’s big hand grabbed him by the belt and hauled him back. That was all the trouble they had going down to the valley floor.

Across the valley things were happening. A fusillade of small-arms fire popped off, interspersed with the deeper note of exploding grenades. One of the further caves erupted with an earth-shattering explosion and a part of the ledge on the cliff slid abruptly into the valley. Metcalfe’s ‘diversion’ was taking on all the aspects of a small war.

In the dim light of dawn they ran towards the Land-Rovers. A man lay writhing with a broken back just below the cave in which they had been imprisoned, and Warren surmised he had been blown off the upper ledge by the force of Tozier’s bomb. He jumped over the feebly moving body and hurried to catch up with Follet. Behind him he heard the regular thudding of Tozier’s boots.

A small herd of camels tethered close by were much alarmed by the sudden noise and some of them plunged wildly and, tearing up their stakes, went careering up the valley ahead of them, adding to the confusion. A bee buzzed past Warren’s head and there was the sharp spaaang and a whine as a bullet ricocheted from rock, and he realized that someone had recovered enough from the general alarm to shoot at them. But he had no time to worry about that — all his attention was directed to getting to the Land-Rovers in the shortest time possible.

There was a hundred yards to go and the breath rasped in his throat as his lungs pumped hard and his legs pumped even harder. Ahead, in front of the vehicles, three Kurds had materialized from nowhere and one was already on one knee with rifle poised to shoot at point-blank range. It seemed he could not miss but as he fired a camel cut across between them and received the bullet. Follet swerved to the right, using the staggering camel as cover, and the second of the Kurds was bowled over by another maddened beast.