Stephen Leather - The Hunting

‘You’re sure?’

‘What, you think I’m making it up? Fuck you. I’m just telling you what he told me.’

Abdullah raised his hands. ‘I’m not arguing with you, bruv.’

‘So which direction do you think?’ asked Sal.

Abdullah frowned, then pointed towards the sun. ‘If the sun rises in the east, it should be that way.’

‘Yeah, I hear you. Okay, let’s get this done,’ said Sal. He knelt down and Abdullah joined him. They began to pray.

CHAPTER 29

‘We’re coming up to the drop zone,’ said Bell, staring at the GPS unit in his hand. ‘Two minutes.’

Van der Sandt took a deep breath and exhaled slowly. He had asked to be dropped at a clearing to the south-west of the area where they had dropped the jihadists the previous day. They had almost certainly moved on but now that they were armed it would be safer to approach them on the ground. Van der Sandt was sitting in the front row of the helicopter, next to Bell. Two of Bell’s men were behind them, cradling their carbines. Van der Sandt was holding his Ambush between his legs. It held a five-round magazine and he had six spare magazines in his jacket. Seven magazines in total, thirty five rounds. More than enough. He had a transceiver clipped to his belt and a water bottle slung across his shoulder. There were half a dozen energy bars in his backpack, along with a small first aid kit, and other items he thought he might need. On his head was a floppy camouflage hat.

He looked out of the window at the tree cover as it flashed by. The forest was full of wildlife, most of it harmless. There were deer and elk, pine martens and raccoons. There were bobcats, but they usually kept well away from people. The wolves that he had introduced to the woods at Laura’s behest also tended to steer clear of humans. The only real danger came from the black bears that called the forest home. An adult male could be seven feet tall and weigh up to three hundred kilos and could easily disembowel and kill with one slash of its massive claws. Its jaws were wide enough to clamp around a man’s head and they could flip boulders weighing a hundred and fifty kilos or more. But Van der Sandt wasn’t interested in bears. All he cared about were the men who had killed his family.

The helicopter banked to the left and through the window Van der Sandt saw the clearing. Rocks protruding from the ground had prevented trees and bushes from growing there over the years. The clearing was oval in shape and surrounded by towering redwoods.

‘We’re not going to be able to touch down, the ground is too uneven,’ said the pilot in the left-hand seat. ‘I’ll get you as close as I can.’

The helicopter went into a hover over the centre of the clearing and then slowly began to descend. As they went down, the darkness of the forest seemed to swallow them. Bell pulled back the door. ‘Good luck, sir,’ he said, then moved to the side to give Van der Sandt room to get out. The skids of the helicopter were about a metre above the rocks.

‘I can get a bit lower,’ said the pilot.

As Van der Sandt looked out of the door, the helicopter dropped down until the skids were almost touching the rocks. Bell patted him on the shoulder. Van der Sandt gritted his teeth and stepped out of the doorway. The moment his feet were on the ground, the helicopter lifted off. Van der Sandt put his left hand on his hat to stop it blowing away and looked up. Bell was leaning out the doorway. He waved his hook at Van der Sandt and Van der Sandt waved back.

The helicopter reached the treetops and then it banked to the left and headed south. The roar of the twin turbines faded into the distance. Van der Sandt stood at the edge of the clearing, turning his head slowly from side to side, listening to the forest. The birds and insects had fallen silent when the helicopter had descended, but now that it had gone the sounds of the forest gradually returned. Van der Sandt gritted his teeth and walked into the trees. The damp sweet smell of the forest enveloped him. His boots crunched softly on the vegetation beneath his feet. The trees around him were second growth. Logging had started in the 1850s and new trees had grown in their place. Further north there were original growth forests, areas where no man had ever walked. But Van der Sandt wouldn’t be going that far. The men he was hunting were only a few kilometres away.

CHAPTER 30

While the rest of the men knelt and prayed, Raj dismantled the two shelters and threw the branches, ferns and leaves into the undergrowth. He stopped when he heard the helicopter in the distance. He moved his head from side to side, trying to pinpoint the direction of the sound. It was getting louder. He took the knife from its scabbard and checked the compass. The sound was coming from the south-west. Raj couldn’t tell how far away the helicopter was because the trees muffled most of the noise. If it was heading to the clearing where they had been dropped, it would have to fly north. He listened intently. The pitch of the sound changed. It was hovering, he realised, some distance away. He checked the compass again. The sound was definitely not coming from the clearing. He continued to turn his head from side to side, trying to work out how far away the helicopter was. The sound diminished. Was it flying away or was it descending? He peered off into the distance but all he could see were trees.

He checked the compass again. It was definitely south-west of their position. He was fairly sure that it was the same helicopter that he’d been on, the Airbus. If it was, then they were probably dropping off the man who wanted to kill them.

The engine noise started to get louder. The helicopter had descended and the forest had absorbed the sound, and now it was climbing again. The noise reached a peak and then there was a change in pitch and it began to move south. It was flying back to the house. They had dropped off the hunter. Raj rubbed the back of his neck. Just one hunter or more than one? There was no way of knowing. When the man had spoken to them in the hangar, he’d made it clear that he wanted personal revenge for the death of his family. But that was before he had learnt that his quarry were now armed. They had the Heckler and the Glock and the knife. Would that change his plans? Would he now come mob-handed? Were there now several armed men on their trail? If so, then his chances of survival were almost zero.

CHAPTER 31

The jihadists finished their prayers, oblivious to the helicopter in the distance. Sid and Jaffar got to their feet and helped Erol up. Mo hadn’t been able to kneel for his prayers; he had bent at the waist as best he could. Raj was sitting by a massive redwood, cleaning his carbine. ‘What’s his problem?’ asked Jaffar. ‘Why isn’t he praying with us?’

‘He’s not a Muslim,’ said Sid.

‘What the fuck? What is he?’

‘Hindu.’

‘He’s a fucking Hindu? Fuck him, bruv.’

‘Jaffar, he’s our best hope of getting out of here. We’ve got to put our differences aside if we’re going to get out of this alive.’

‘Sid’s right,’ said Erol. ‘The guy knows what he’s doing. You saw the way that he handled that gun. He’s a pro.’

‘Hindus hate Muslims,’ said Mo. ‘They always have and they always will.’

‘He’s not religious, bruv,’ said Sid.

‘Religious or not, he’s a fucking kafir,’ sneered Jaffar.

‘A kafir who might just save our lives,’ said Sid. ‘And the way things are, we need all the help we can get.’ He lowered his voice to a whisper. ‘Look, bruv, he didn’t ask to be part of this. We grabbed him from his hospital and took him to our camp. Now he’s stuck here with us. He could have taken that gun and gone off on his own. You heard what he said, he used to be a Marine. They’re like the SAS, they train for all sorts of shit. He could have just looked after number one. He’d move a lot faster on his own.’