Shots rang out, and Cole realized that the snipers were firing at the alligators, who were storming out of the water, activated by the smell of the blood and the sight of the headless corpse.
Cole stooped to the ground and grabbed the Uzi, his hands still bound at the wrists, and shot the other armed guard in the chest before he even knew what happening.
One of the other men broke away from the group by the water, running towards Cole, but Cole opened up with the Uzi and the man flew back into the water, blood geysering out from the wounds in his chest.
Within seconds, the alligators moved in to tear the body to pieces.
Cole saw Quraishi backing away from the area, gesturing for the men on the roof to leave their friends to it and fire at Cole.
Cole immediately started firing at the rooftop snipers, hitting one and pinning down the others.
Cole waited — Quraishi was still backing away, and the men by the pool were too occupied with the gators to bother him — and then one of the snipers showed himself, and Cole fired two shots, hitting him in the mouth and shoulder.
He knew the other sniper would take his chance while Cole was occupied, and — anticipating the man’s movement — Cole pivoted and fired the last of his rounds. He saw blood fly from the sniper’s arm and chest and knew that — although he might live — at least he could no longer fire his rifle.
Cole turned to Quraishi, but felt the heavy impact of a body as he was tackled by one of the guards who had earlier been controlling the alligators with the pole.
The air was knocked from Cole’s lungs, and both men fell into the writhing, bloody waters of the alligator pool.
It took a lot to surprise Quraishi, but the agent’s actions had managed to do so.
One moment the man who had been posing as Daniel Chadwick was lying there, terrified he was about to have his legs chewed off; and the next, he was moving more quickly than anyone Quraishi had ever seen, except perhaps for Amir al-Hazmi.
And then one of his men was nothing more than a headless corpse, the gators were attacking the others; some fell into the water, others escaped, screaming as they went; then the agent got hold of one of the Uzis, another man was down, then his snipers too…
And still Quraishi wasn’t moving.
What the hell was wrong with him? What was he waiting for?
He didn’t want to admit it, but it must have been shock, rooting him to the spot. But he was unarmed, and against a man like this, he would stand no chance. He had to get away.
Yet still his legs refused to move.
But then — yes! — one of his men sacrificed himself, tackling the agent right into the middle of the alligator-infested pool.
This was his chance.
Run! he ordered himself. Run!
Cole saw the movement of green reptilian armor in the dark water and pulled free of the guard, kicking with his legs to the bottom of the pool. He sensed the huge beast sail past above him, felt the movement of the water as the big head collided with the other man’s body.
Cole felt the thrashing, and heard the screams as the guard was eviscerated by the gator, then something floating past him in the water caught his eye.
It was a severed arm; from who, he didn’t know.
But he sensed another gator approaching from behind, and pivoted in the water, grabbing the arm as he moved and holding it out in front of him between his bound hands, the gators jaws chomping down into it.
Cole kicked away from the thrashing bodies. He was used to swimming with his hands tied — in fact, during SEAL training, he had been forced to repeat lap after lap with both his hands and his legs tied — but the presence of the gators in the murky, bloody water made his heart rate go involuntarily higher, which hampered his progress.
He could feel the water being disturbed as the alligators got closer and closer, but then he was there — back at the concrete slope leading out from the pool — and he pulled his body out, until his feet hit the bottom.
And then he was running, breaking free of the water even as the big head of one of the gators snapped towards him, missing his heels by mere inches.
He turned around and saw the poolside was pure chaos, gators gorging themselves on the guards’ bodies, dragging them back half-eaten into the churning water.
But where was Quraishi?
Cole’s keen eyes scanned the concrete expanse of the city zoo around him, and quickly picked out movement.
Quraishi was running down the dusty main alleyway back to the steel gate, shouting at a shocked zoo employee as he ran.
Cole took off after him as the gates started to open.
Yes! The steel gate eased open, and Quraishi could breathe a sigh of relief at last; he would be back at the Ministry before long, and could order a city-wide manhunt for this crazed man. If the gators hadn’t already killed him, that is.
He risked a look over his shoulder, and his jaw dropped open.
There he was — barefoot, soaking wet, hands still bound in front of him — sprinting down the alleyway towards Quraishi.
Who was this man? A test sent by Allah? A demon sent by Satan?
It wasn’t that Quraishi was afraid to die; he had in fact become used to the idea many years before, and realized that the threat of death was part and parcel of the existence Allah had decreed for him.
But to die needlessly, to die before he had realized his full potential and achieved his great aims, was unthinkable.
The agent, even barefoot on the scorching hot concrete, was faster than Quraishi could hope to be, and would be upon him soon. The man was unarmed, but Quraishi was a realist, and had no delusions about his ability to win a fight with him.
But traffic was at standstill in the streets outside the zoo.
What else could he do?
It was then that he remembered the hot air balloon.
Cole couldn’t believe his eyes.
Ahead of him, he watched as the hot air balloon which had been giving people joy rides all morning, lifted off once again into the air.
But this time it had the relieved features of Quraishi in the basket, his face once more regaining its familiar arrogance.
Quraishi turned to the balloon’s frightened pilot and barked an order, and the flames rapidly burst higher, forcing the balloon to ascend more quickly.
Cole didn’t stop to think; there simply wasn’t time.
Instead, his soles burning on the heat-soaked ground, he increased his pace again and surged towards the lifting balloon, the queue of waiting passengers staring with mouths agape as he jumped.
9
Quraishi felt the basket move as it was pulled a few inches earthwards, as if it had picked up a large weight of some kind.
He had seen the agent sprinting towards him, but by then the balloon had been too high, and he hadn’t seen what had happened below the basket.
But now, the zoo getting smaller and smaller below him as the balloon gained height rapidly, Quraishi risked leaning forward over the side.
What he saw amazed him, although by now he realized that it shouldn’t.
The agent, the ‘asset’, had somehow managed to jump and grab hold of the anchor rope that hung below the balloon. He was now hanging on with his bound hands, suspended by the rope hundreds of feet above the city, wind billowing him from side to side.