They strode briskly through the meeting point. Hassad glanced at the one corpse Porter had left behind, then glanced at Porter. He could tell from the expression on his face that he knew exactly what had happened. Porter jabbed him forward with the AK-47. They kept walking towards the room where Katie had been tied to a stake. Porter was struggling to keep track of time: he reckoned it was three thirty in the morning, but it could be as late as four. The two soldiers stood rigidly to attention as they saw them approach. Their own assault rifles were snapped into position.
‘It’s OK,’ said Hassad softly. ‘We’re just going inside for a moment.’
Smart, thought Porter. He knows they could shoot me, but it would be a bloodbath, and probably all four of us would die. Once you started letting off AK-47s in a confined space, the bullets would shred everyone. Better to let me inside: there’s still a chance he might be able to talk me into dropping the gun.
Pale light had spread across the room. Porter glanced at Katie. It was only a couple of hours or so since he had last seen her, but her condition was even worse. So far as he could see, she had lost consciousness: she could be sleeping, but with the pain she had endured Porter reckoned she’d gone under.
He kept his gun trained on Hassad.
‘Untie her,’ he snapped.
He knew his drill. Get her off the stake, then try and fight his way out of here, room by room. It was probably the worst plan he’d ever heard. Against so many men, there was practically no chance of success. But at least this way they’d take a few of the bastards with her. And it wouldn’t be on worldwide TV.
‘No,’ said Hassad, with quiet determination.
As he spoke, Porter could see Katie’s eyes slowly open. He could see the pain each movement caused her, but there was a glimmer of defiance in her expression. Her boss was right, thought Porter. The woman has nerves of steel. She glanced first at Hassad, then at Porter. ‘I …’ she croaked, coughing as she struggled to form the words on her lips.
Porter raised a hand to stop her from speaking. He pushed the AK-47 closer to Hassad’s chest. ‘Then she’ll at least have the satisfaction of watching you die first,’ he said. ‘And then I’ll untie her myself.’
‘I hope she enjoys the show.’
‘Please just do …’ started Katie, her voice turning into a cough.
While Porter’s attention was distracted, Hassad leapt forwards, smashing the AK-47 from Porter’s grip as he did so. He jammed as hard as he could on the trigger, loosening off a few rounds of bullets, but the barrel of the gun had already been deflected, and the shots smashed harmlessly into the solid stone walls of the cell. Christ, thought Porter. The noise of that gunfire is certain to alert the rest of the guards.
Hassad was forcing him onto the ground, crushing him with his weight. Using his right hand, Porter curled his fist, and smashed it into the man’s jaw. He could tell at once the blow was a good one: he could feel his knuckles crunching into the bone underneath the skin. Hassad reeled back, the pain shooting through him. A smear of blood was trickling away from his lips.
Hassad was preparing to strike back, and even though he’d been unbalanced by the blow, his boot was drawing back, and Porter could see at once he was about to take a kicking. He started to try and scramble to his feet, moving as fast as he could to deflect the impact of the first inevitable blow.
A huge explosion rocked through the mine.
For a second, Porter was too stunned to react. His mind went numb. He could hear the sound of explosives detonating, and the crumbling of rock. How far away? he wondered. The explosion was muffled at first, but the noise was rumbling through the tunnels and rock like a train rumbling through the night.
Christ, he thought. Maybe it’s the Regiment. Maybe they’ve come for us.
Let’s hope to God that’s what it is.
Hassad was looking around desperately, then running for the door. Outside, Porter could hear men screaming, and the din of a rolling series of aftershocks from the first explosion, rattling though the mine like a persistent, steady cough. ‘What the fuck is it?’ he shouted.
‘A bunker-busting missile, I reckon,’ Hassad snarled, his expression grim.
Porter could hear more shouts, and more screams. An ugly smell was drifting under the closed door. It took Porter a moment to recognise it — he had smelt it once before on the battlefield: a mixture of scorched foam and stewed meat, it was the distinctive smell of men burning to death. Christ, he told himself. The place is going up in flames.
If we don’t get out of here, we’re all going to die.
‘Cut her down,’ yelled Porter, gesturing towards Katie.
Hassad was reaching for the door, throwing it open. Outside, the corridor was filled with a thick, noxious smoke, and he instantly slammed it shut again. He looked back at Porter.
‘We need to get her out of here,’ Porter shouted, his voice hoarse. ‘She’s no bloody good to you dead, is she?’
There was no reply. Hassad looked to have been stunned into muteness.
‘If it’s a British attack, and she dies, then we’ve fucking won, haven’t we?’ screamed Porter, handing him a knife.
Snapping back to attention, Hassad took two steps forward. With a swift movement of his hand, he slashed at the ropes that bound Katie to the stake. The knots were strong, and expertly bound, and it took several attempts to free her completely. But then she fell forwards. Porter caught her in his arms. She was so groggy, she was close to losing consciousness, but if they could just get out of here, there was still a chance of saving her.
‘What’s happening?’ she muttered.
Porter no longer had any idea. When he first heard the explosions he reckoned it must be the Regiment coming in to rescue them, but now he wasn’t so sure. They might have used some stun grenades to prepare the way for an assault. Maybe some gas. But this looked like some kind of cruise missile making a direct hit on the mine. Why the hell would you do that? It would risk killing the very people you were meant to be capturing.
Her voice was cracked and weak, but as Porter cradled her in his arms, he could feel some of the strength coming back to her. For the first time in days she believed she might live, and it was amazing what resilience that knowledge could give a person.
‘Reckon we can get out of here?’ said Porter, glancing at Hassad.
He didn’t reply, but the brutal expression on his face suggested he didn’t think so. Porter pointed his gun straight at the man, nudging him forward, while holding on to Katie as well. He pulled the door ajar, reeling back as a cloud of thick black smoke hit him straight in the face. He coughed violently, his whole body shaking as his lungs tried to get rid of the air he’d just breathed. ‘Corpses,’ he whispered, his face drained of all colour.
Porter put Katie onto the ground, and held his breath as he slipped his face around the door, glancing out into the corridor beyond that ran down to the meeting point. It took a moment for his eyes to adjust to the clouds of smoke, and the fumes that were stinging his pupils, but as he focused it was clear that the mine had been turned into a scene of total devastation. The two fighters who normally stood guard against the door had been reduced to a couple of charred skeletons, and there were more corpses as you looked towards the meeting point. A huge fireball, Porter reckoned, must have swept down the corridor, burning everything it met, then, as it sucked all the oxygen out of the space, it would have extinguished itself, leaving behind the heavy clouds of smoke. Only the thick door to Katie’s cell had saved them. Even so, to get out they would have to fight their way through the smoke, and the secondary fires and explosions still rippling through the rest of the mine.
Porter tore the shirt from his back. ‘Tear this into three strips, then dunk them in water and put one over your mouth,’ he barked. ‘It’s the only chance we’ve got.’