Уильям Мейкл - Operation - Congo

“I’ll take my chances,” she said and grinned. Before he could reply, she’d stepped aside, waving her hands and trying to shoo the vultures as if they were recalcitrant chickens. To Hynd’s amazement it worked, after a fashion. The birds moved back into a wider circle more than ten feet away now, leaving enough room for the other people to come down. He had Davies stay up on the ledge until last as cover in case anything was waiting to ambush them from the shadows under the canopy but when Davies dropped down a minute later, he shook his head.

“All quiet, Sarge. I thought I heard a drum sound over to the right. Maybe some cheering too?”

“Aye. I heard it. Sounds like there’s a party going on. But we’re not invited. Let’s go and gatecrash.”

“A pint of Stella and a packet of crisps for me if you get there first, okay, Sarge?”

“The same for me,” Debs added. “And make it snappy. I’m working up a thirst here.”

Hynd took Debs to one side while Wilkins and Davies took point and headed into the undergrowth to scope out the path.

“Look, lass, I’ve spoken to you and to yon black-haired climber, but as for the rest of your team, I’ve hardly said or had a word all night. I need to know they’ll go the right way when I say jump. It might be a hard road out of here and I need to trust you all without worrying unduly about you. That’s the way this goes.”

She put a hand on his arm again.

“If they won’t do it for you, they’ll do it for me,” she said. “We all just want to go home.”

Wilkins came out of the shadows.

“All clear as far as we can see in the gloom under there, Sarge,” he said.

“All right, lad, lead this lot out. I’ll watch our backs. Make for the gate but stay in the shadows. They’ve got a good view from on top of it. I don’t want them to see us coming.”

Wilkins led the group out with Davies in a central position among them and Hynd bringing up the rear. As he left the carcass of the raptor behind and the vultures moved in again, he heard another drumbeat and a cheer, louder than before.

“Whatever it is, I hope they’re fucking enjoying it,” he muttered. “Because I plan to spoil their day.”

Morning dew dampened the foliage and they were all wet through within seconds of moving under the canopy. In daylight, Hynd saw it was more open than he’d thought the night before, with several clearly defined trails snaking through the trees. The area was well used by something large and he had a good guess as to what that might be.

Spiders, snakes, woolly bloody mammoths, and now fucking dinosaurs? Wiggins is right. We are monster magnets.

If there were more raptors around, they weren’t obvious by their presence, but Hynd had seen that movie—in real life, they were just as likely to be sneaky wee bastards as in the film… at least it was best if he went on thinking that way. His nerves were on edge with every step so he was surprised when the people in front of him came to a halt and Davies motioned him forward.

“We’re approaching the gate, Sarge. You’re up.”

He moved forward. Debs put a hand on his arm and squeezed as he went passed, silently wishing him luck. He passed the other WHO members and saw young Wilkins standing behind a thick tree, looking out at the clearing before the gate.

The platform on which the captives had been winched down the night before had been raised again, and the huge wooden gate was still firmly closed. Six men armed with spears patrolled the top of the wall and although Hynd could definitely now hear the sound of an excited crowd on the far side of the gate, the guards did not seem distracted and had their focus on this side of the wall.

There was no sign of the captain and Wiggins.

Hynd knew that he, Wilkins, and Davies could easily take two men each with their rifles and wipe the guards from the top. The problem was what would they do then, for the gate would still be closed and the platform would still be up top and no use to them. The shots would raise an alarm, more guards would come, and they’d be back where they started.

We’re going to have to do this the hard way.

He pulled Wilkins back under cover, bent close, and spoke quietly in his ear.

“I need your climbing skills again, lad,” he said. “We need to get up onto the top level there on one side of the gate or other. I need you up there and you’ll be taking me with you. We’ve got six men to take down nice and quiet, commando style. So find me a way up. Back here in five, one way or the other.”

When Wilkins left under cover of the foliage, the dark-haired doctor went with him, needing no prompting. Hynd went back and joined the rest of the group under the trees. He brought Debs up to speed on the situation.

“And if they don’t find a way up?”

“Then we shoot the guards, rush the gate, and hope we make it up top before anybody gets there from the other side. That’s a risk I don’t want to take so keep your fingers crossed.”

Hynd checked his watch every minute but Wilkins was never one to slacken on punctuality and the lad, with the doctor in tow, was back inside his allotted time.

“Our luck’s in, Sarge,” the private said. “Thirty yards to the right there’s a big tree we can shimmy up, get out onto a branch, and drop down right on top of the ridge. The drop’s a wee bit risky, looks like it’s onto a narrow ledge, which is probably why nobody’s watching it. But I can make it and I’ll be there to steady you when you come down.”

“I can make it too,” the black-haired doctor said. “I want to help.”

Much as the extra man would come in handy, Hynd knew he couldn’t put a civilian in harm’s way.

“This is going to be dirty work, knife work,” Hynd said. “I can’t ask that of you, it’s too risky. Sorry.”

He turned and called Davies forward.

“Wilko and I are going in. We’re going to try to take out the guards on the sly. I need you to cover us from below. Don’t take a shot unless we get into trouble, but if we do, shoot as much as you like then make a run for the gate. We’ve got to get over or through, one way or another.”

As plans went, this one had the benefit of simplicity, but that was about all it had going for it.

“Down, and sharpish,” Banks said as another roar rose from the crowd. He turned for a look towards the gate but the walls were too high to see what progress the raptor might be making. Those in the seats had a clear view though and judging by the cheering, the beast was already moving in the right direction.

Wiggins still hadn’t moved.

“I said down, lad, that’s an order.”

Together, they dropped down into the maze, and the echo of the crowd’s resultant roar rang around them.

Banks immediately checked for weapons, but there was only the worked stone wall of the alley and some pebble-sized rubble on the ground. He gathered up some pebbles and gravel, filled his shirt pockets, then went to the nearest junction.

“We’re heading right,” he said and made as deep a horizontal score as he could manage on the right-hand wall at eye level just inside the alley that lead that way. “This will tell us we’ve been here before if we get turned ’round or if we double back. Double-time, Wiggo, we’ve got a maze to solve before we get eaten.”

The very first alley they took was a dead end. They returned to the junction where Banks put a vertical line down through the horizontal one.

“And that means it’s an instant no-go down that one.”

Before they moved on, Wiggo gathered his own supply of pebbles and gravel.

“Just in case we get split up, Cap. I’ll make the marks too so you’ll ken where I’ve been and where not to go.”