Dead Centre - Andy McNab [133]
‘Listen in. As soon as they land, so will Joe – right on top of them, while the dust is up. We’ve got to be really quick. Get in there fast and take those fuckers on. Hopefully the ramp’s still going to be down. I don’t know if you can land with it like that, and I really don’t care. We’ll find out when we get there.’
Mr Lover Man translated. Then he turned to me. ‘We will kill them all. Mr Timis wants them all dead. All of them.’
I got it. If I’d zapped Stefan, that included me.
‘I will take care of Stefan. That’s still my job, to get to the boy. OK?’
Both of them understood what I was saying that time.
‘Justin – he’s not going to kill Stefan unless he knows he’s lost. At that point, he won’t give a fuck. So we must let him think he’s got a chance. We let him escape out of the aircraft. If we get in there and corner him, Stefan is dead. Let him run. I know him. I know how he thinks. I’ll get the fucker.’
Mr Lover Man wasn’t happy at all, but fuck him. ‘You want the responsibility of fucking up and getting the boy killed? Do you?’ I poked his chest. ‘I’ll take that fucking responsibility. Just like I did hitting the fuel tanks. Let Justin get out of that fucking aircraft, think that he’s running. I’ll sort him out. Don’t corner him.’
Joe rejoined the party. ‘This is it, man. The fucker’s dumping down. He can’t make it to the town. We’re about twenty klicks short. The moment I get you on the ground, I’m going to fuck off while there’s rounds flying about. That’s if you want an airframe to get you home, man.’ He played about with his instruments, his eyes constantly flicking up to lock onto the Skyvan and the terrain below. ‘Assuming I’ve still got fucking landing gear in five minutes’ time.’
I ripped off the cans and went and started pulling up the shutter. The Cessna descended. Mr Lover Man put his body armour back on and Genghis checked his M4.
He saw me looking at it and the scowl I got in return told me it was staying where it was.
28
THE WIND RUSHED in but not with such force now. We were lower and slower. The scrub was no more than two hundred feet below us.
I stuck my head out into the slipstream. The Skyvan was touching down ahead.
The Cargomaster’s engine revved higher as Joe corrected. Mr Lover Man and Genghis watched the action from behind the seats.
Power back. The plane slowed. We hit the final fifty feet.
Frank’s lads moved back with me and took up position in the doorway. A huge dust-cloud erupted and swallowed the Skyvan. Grains of sand pitted my face.
I could see the Skyvan’s wheel-prints in the hard red crust directly beneath us. Joe was making sure he landed on proven ground.
Our wheels touched. Joe braked as the Cargomaster bounced towards the dust-storm.
Mr Lover Man jumped, curling his body, ready to take the hit on his Kevlar. Genghis followed. The Cargomaster was bouncing along at about thirty miles an hour. We’d only been down for two seconds.
Fuck it. Why not? I pulled out the mini-flares, gripped one in each hand, and went for it.
The thump as I hit the ground drove the wind out of me. I rolled into a bush, dropping one of the flare packs. Inch-long needles pierced my skin, but I kept on rolling.
I finally got up, spitting out sand and grit.
Genghis sprinted past me. He disappeared into the dust-storm, weapon at the ready. Mr Lover Man was no more than a metre behind him with the axe.
I retrieved the flare pack and started to leg it after them.
29
JOE REVVED HARD, taking off to the left of the Skyvan. The shed was static, but its engines were still running, still stirring up a maelstrom of red dust. There were shouts from inside. I could hear the signature of 5.56 being fired.
I ran to the right of the cloud, to get ahead of it, and dropped into a dip, panting, trying to get oxygen into me. My feet told me there were needles in them too.
There were more shots inside the Skyvan. The props began to wind down. One of them coughed to a halt.
BB stumbled out of the front of the storm, M4 in hand. No Stefan. Fuck.
I willed