Time had no meaning on that awful journey, so Ben couldn't have told how much later it was that his headlamps fell upon a high wire fence and an orange and white barrier blocking the road. The fence was rattling in the wind, but so far it had held fast. There was a booth next to the barrier, but it seemed empty. He came to a halt.
'What now?' he demanded of Danny.
Their captor thought about it for a moment. 'Drive through it,' he instructed. 'Break it down.'
Ben started to argue. 'I can't just—' 'Break it down!' Danny insisted.
Ben found himself biting his lower lip. There was clearly nothing he could say. He gritted his teeth, revved the engine and, when it was almost screaming, let go of the handbrake. The truck shot forward, like a stone from a catapult. Angelo shouted in fright as they smashed through the barrier; a glance from Ben in the rear-view mirror showed the bits of debris flying into the air and then out of sight.
'Continue on this road,' Danny instructed. 'We're nearly there. Hurry up.'
The last thing Ben felt like doing was speeding. He simply couldn't go quickly. As they trundled down the road he occasionally had to swerve to avoid obstacles in their way, but in truth his attention was not entirely fixed on the way ahead. The headlamps of the truck had started to illuminate the outskirts of the metal city into which they were driving.
Without even wondering why he had not done so before, he scanned the dashboard for the switch that would put the headlamps onto full beam. The moment he located it, he flicked it on.
And then he gasped.
It was not the size of the structures that awaited them that astonished him; it was not the way they looked like something out of a futuristic movie; nor the way that, lit up only by the truck, the tops of the towers disappeared into the night. It was not the sheeting rain or the ominous metallic creaks caused by the wind that were so loud they could hear them above the storm.
In fact, it was nothing to do with the oil refinery that made Ben gasp.
It was the dead body, dressed only in its underwear, that was lying by the side of the road. Ben felt his eyes glued to the sight as they drove slowly past. The body's limbs were fixed in horribly contorted positions. Ben had the feeling that it was not lying where it fell, but that the storm had blown it and rolled it towards the road. Most grisly of all was the neck. It was nothing but a gaping wound that barely connected the head to the rest of the body. Ben was no expert in these things, but whoever this was looked like they had been shot in the neck at close range.
He felt Angelo tremble even more violently beside him. 'Don't look at it,' he told his friend, and as he spoke he realized that his voice was wavering. 'Just don't look at it.' Ben dragged his own gaze away from the horrific sight of the corpse and back onto the open road ahead.
And that was when he saw the figure in the luminous green jacket.
It was standing in the middle of the road perhaps thirty metres ahead of them. As they drew closer, Ben saw that it was a man. His legs were slightly apart and he did not move, despite that fact that his hair and clothes were blowing fiercely in the strong winds and the rain was lashing down in torrents. Ben slowed the truck down as the figure showed no intention of moving out of their way.
They came to a halt only metres away from him. Ben squinted his eyes to get a better look. The man had a few days' stubble and the hair on his head was soaked and dishevelled. He was a handsome person, however, despite the fact that he had a strangely dead look in his eyes. And despite the fact that in his right hand he carried a handgun. The moment Ben noticed the weapon, the man raised it to the windscreen. Angelo clamped his eyes shut; Ben just watched as the figure approached, keeping the gun held towards them and walking round to the driver's door.
He rapped on the window with the gun; Ben wound it down.
The man was obviously surprised to see someone as young as Ben in the driving seat. He squinted suspiciously as he peered into the cab of the truck; only when he saw that Danny was holding Ben at gunpoint and that Angelo had his arms tied did he seem to realize what was going on. His face relaxed slightly.
'Everything under control?' he shouted at Danny in a very English accent.
Danny nodded. 'Which way?' he demanded.
'Straight on. The road forks around the main central tower. Stop there — it's where we'll put him.' His eyes passed from Angelo to Ben. 'I mean them.'
'Are you getting in?'
The man shook his head. 'You look cosy enough. I'll travel in the back.'
With that he disappeared. Ben vaguely heard the sound of him loading himself into the back of the truck before Danny spoke. 'You heard,' their captor said quietly. 'Time to go.'
Ben just sat there.
'Move!' Danny instructed. His voice wavered slightly, but he prodded Ben with the gun to reinforce his point.
Ben nodded and took a deep breath. Then he started the car up again and continued trundling along the road.
It took a few minutes to get to the fork in the road that the man had indicated. As they approached it, Ben couldn't help looking, wide-eyed, at the immense tower ahead. There was no doubt that this was the one the man meant, and it was with a sickening coldness that seemed to freeze the blood in his veins that Ben let the truck come to a halt once more. Angelo looked like his body had gone limp: his head was slumped on his shoulders and his nervous breathing came in deep gulps.
'This is where we say goodbye,' Danny announced. He stared straight ahead, seemingly unwilling to look either Ben or Angelo in the eye.
'So this is it, is it, Danny?' Ben asked. 'After everything that's happened today, you're just going to leave us?'
Danny didn't reply. He didn't even give any indication he had heard what Ben said.
Ben carried on talking — suddenly the words seemed to be spilling out of him.
'I want to know something, Danny. It's something only you can tell me. Back at the wardens' station, when you knocked me out — why didn't you just shoot me then? It would have been much easier, wouldn't it? Much easier with me out of the way and just Angelo to deal with.'
Danny's lips curled slightly, but he still didn't answer. From the corner of his eye, Ben saw the figure of the man walking through the wind and the rain to the front of the truck. A new sense of urgency surged through him.
'You know what I think?' he almost hissed. 'I think you couldn't do it. I think you're not cut out for this, Danny. I think you're not the terrorist you're trying to be. You're blinded by your anger, but deep down you know this is wrong.'
Still no response.
'Look at me, Danny!' Ben urged. 'At least look me in the eye before you kill me. Because that's what you're about to do, as sure as if you pulled that trigger on me now. You leave us with that lunatic out there and you're a murderer — not just of us, but maybe of thousands of others. So at least do me the courtesy of looking at me.'
Slowly, as though he had to force his muscles to move, Danny turned his head. And in the dim light, Ben could see that there was doubt in his eyes. His face looked racked with indecision, and in that moment, Ben knew he had a chance.
He knew that now was the time to play his final card.
'What if she were here, Danny?' he asked, his voice low and intense. 'What if Basheera were here now? What if she knew what you were doing? What would she say to you?'
Danny seemed to freeze. 'What do you mean?' he asked, his voice strangled.
'You know what I mean,' Ben replied. At the front of the car the man was standing in the wind and the rain, waving his handgun in their direction to indicate that they should get out of the car. 'You know what I mean, Danny. She would tell you that this isn't the way. She would tell you to listen to me, to listen to Angelo. He can speak to his father. He can get the oil men to leave your island.' He narrowed his eyes. 'If you do this, Danny, the only thing your sister will be remembered for is the death of other people.'