Deep Black - Andy McNab [101]
I leaned forward again. ‘How long have you known Nuhanovic?’
Salkic stared ahead at the empty road. It took a while before I got an answer. ‘Hasan is a truly remarkable man.’
‘So I hear. Thank you for passing on our message.’
He stared through the perfectly cleaned windscreen, not a bug splash in sight. The Motorola crackled and he concentrated on what was being said before responding. ‘I gave him your message. He was interested to hear about you being at the cement factory.’
‘How did you come to work for him?’
He turned round very slowly and deliberately, and in the strobed light I could see that his face was set like stone. ‘I do not work for him,’ he said simply. ‘I serve him. He saved me and my sister from the aggressor when the British, the French – everyone – were just standing by and wringing their hands.’
He tapped the driver on the shoulder, waffled off to him, and he nodded and waffled back. It looked like they all felt a similar obligation.
‘Nasir says it was a shock in Baghdad when you asked about Hasan. Nasir begged him to leave the city within the hour. He, too, is always worried about security.’
Salkic faced the front again.
I took the hint and sat back. Before long we were heading out of the city and up on to the high ground. Apart from our headlights, the only light was what spilled now and again from the houses dotting the road.
We were on a metalled single carriageway that snaked its way across the ridge and down into the valley the other side.
Acouple of Ks later, I spotted tail-lights in the distance. They were static, and off to the right. Salkic got on the net and the lights began to move and rejoined the road. We soon closed up behind them.
I leaned forward. ‘Benzil?’
Salkic nodded. ‘I’m the only link to Hasan in Sarajevo. Nasir will take us only part of the way, then I alone will take you on to him.’
Nasir’s seat creaked softly as his weight shifted. There was nothing out there but inky darkness, the headlights catching the odd tree-trunk and house at the roadside as we drove past. A couple of times a scabby dog rushed out from behind one to take us on.
Jerry was doing the same as me, peering out into the night. His hands rested on the camera in his bumbag, as if he was still worried the camera gypsies were about to pounce.
77
Tuesday, 14 October
We had been following the Audi’s tail-lights at a distance for about an hour and forty when Salkic sparked up. ‘We are nearly at the transfer point.’
I guessed the next stage of the journey wasn’t going to be as comfortable. He dug down round his neck and pulled out two keys on a chain, the sort ID tags are attached to. With luck, they belonged to a nice warm vehicle. I didn’t fancy tabbing through the cuds in this kind of weather.
‘Everything you have with you will stay with Nasir.’
Jerry leaned into the space between the front seats. ‘What about my camera? If he lets me take some shots, I’ll—’
Salkic turned to him, his face steely. ‘Nothing must be brought with us. Certainly no electrical devices. We will also search you. Don’t worry, everything will be returned after you have seen Hasan.’
The front Audi’s tail-lights glowed red, and stayed on. As we closed, Salkic talked cautiously into his Motorola.
We were almost on top of them before we could see the problem. The way ahead was blocked by a dead cow, and her mates didn’t seem keen to let us through. We couldn’t drive round them because of the barbed-wire fences either side of us.
It looked as if the road ran past a farm. A collection of barns stood just off to the right, rough old things knocked up out of concrete blocks and corrugated iron.
Nasir braked to a complete halt, lifting his foot off the pedal when we’d stopped to kill the rear lights. Then he threw the gearshift into reverse and started backing up as the other driver and a leather boy got out to investigate.
Salkic held the radio near his mouth, his eyes fixed on where we’d just been. ‘This is where we leave Nasir and his people. They will go back to Sarajevo.