Chapter 29
H annah watched as Tom sprinted across the road to the rebel position. Her heart was pounding in her throat. She could barely breathe.
Please let him make it.
Jamal’s cover had worked, and Tom skidded to a halt behind the bus. He gave Jamal a thumbs up.
“My turn,” Jamal said. He waited until his team unleashed their firepower to the north, then followed Tom across the street.
Hannah had never known such bravery. She was frozen with fright. Her legs had turned to jelly, and she was leaning against a broken shelving unit in an attempt to stay upright.
Her ears were still ringing from the gunfire, and now the men were gone, she was completely alone.
She watched as Jamal introduced Tom to Abu-al-Rashid, and judging by the hand signals, was telling him about the fire and rescuing his nephew. Abu-al-Rashid embraced Tom, thanking him profusely. The rebel commander seemed like a decent man.
Tom, Jamal and Abu-al-Rashid talked for about twenty minutes, before Tom glanced up and pointed to her. Abu-al-Rashid turned and looked.
Should she wave? Perhaps not. She nodded in his direction, and he dropped his gaze and turned back to Tom.
There was another volley of gunfire from the north, and she ducked behind the counter, which was now strewn with plaster, dust, and flakes of paint. Still, it would protect her in case any stray bullets found their way into the shop.
It seemed to carry on forever, making the hairs stand up on her arms and sending chills down her spine. A deadly hail of bullets, and Tom and Jamal were going to charge back across the road in it.
Thankfully, they’d picked up the door to the bus that had fallen to the side, and used it as a shield. Abu-al-Rashid’s men provided covering fire, and Tom and Jamal made it back safely.
“Don’t ever do that to me again,” she hissed, overcome with relief.
His blue eyes twinkled. “I’ll try not to. You okay?”
“Yes, I’m fine. It’s you I’m worried about.”
“I’ve been in worse situations than this and come out the other end,” he told her. She cringed. Was there any worse than this constant barrage of fire from an invisible enemy? Not knowing when they were going to hit, or what?
“What did he say?” she asked.
“He’s going to provide the distraction we need to get behind enemy lines.”
“What kind of distraction?” she asked.
He snorted. “You’ll know it when it happens.”
Jamal glanced at his watch. “Five minutes.”
Hannah’s pulse ratcheted up. That’s when it was happening, whatever this distraction was. The minutes crept by.
“This used to be a great neighborhood,” Jamal said sadly. “The fighting has destroyed it.”
Hannah noticed all the doors and windows overlooking the street were boarded up.
Unlike what she’d seen in Syman City, no elderly men played backgammon on tables outside their front doors, and there was no colorful washing swinging between balconies above their heads.
Instead, glass glinted among the cobblestones and angry, red anti-government slogans covered the walls.
“Nearly time,” Tom said, his voice heavy with foreboding.
Hannah took a deep breath. It was time to move.
All at once, the air around them seemed to erupt with gun fire.
The rebels unleashed a torrent of firepower onto their unsuspecting adversaries to the north.
Several men ran forward, diving behind mounds of sandbags and abandoned vehicles.
They tossed grenades, and two men actually launched a rocket propelled grenade.
Tom grabbed her hand and they ran out of the shop and around the corner. They kept going until they were one street back from the fighting. The armed forces returned fire and the cacophony that ensured was deafening.
“I hope they’re okay,” Hannah whispered, as they flattened themselves against a wall.
“So do I,” Tom said. Even Jamal looked worried.
“They’ll keep them occupied for a while,” he said.
They moved forward another hundred meters, keeping to the walls of the buildings, hiding in the shadows. The sun was stronger now, and the rosy glow had been replaced with a stark white light that hinted of another scorching day. In midsummer, the temperatures could go up to the mid-forties.
The main danger then would be exposure and dehydration. That’s if they made it that far.
“We’re on a par with the enemy line,” pointed out Tom.
Ahead of them was a gravel area that looked like it had once been a car park.
Beyond that, a wide street swarmed with army soldiers.
Sandbag walls and military vehicles had been parked strategically to offer cover, while the men popped grenades into grenade launchers and fired them at the rebel-held district.
Others knelt behind the barricade and unleashed a torrent of firepower into the streets beyond their line.
Tom nudged Jamal. “Look!”
“What the hell?”
The rebel stared horrified at the convoy of army vehicles, including tanks and armored trucks mounted with rocket launchers driving in. It was a breathtaking display of firepower. The rebels were tough, but Hannah doubted they’d be able to outgun these guys.
Jamal had gone white.
“We’re going to need reinforcements,” he whispered. “We’ll have to fall back and regroup. I must warn Abu-al-Rashid.”
“Where did they get all this equipment?” Tom gazed at the tanks and missile launchers. “And how did it get here so quickly?”
“They’ve got outside support,” Hannah murmured, without thinking. “Sympathetic neighboring states.”
Jamal gave her a sharp look. “How do you know that?”
“I–I used to work at the royal compound.” She glanced fearfully at Tom.
Had she just made a humungous mistake by revealing this information to the rebels?
Jamal had been so friendly, that she’d lowered her guard.
She’d begun to think of him as a friend on their side, but he wasn’t.
Any enemy of Prince Hakeem was her enemy too.
“You worked with Hakeem?” Jamal’s voice was incredulous.
She gave a tiny nod.
Jamal turned on Tom. “Why did you not tell me?”
Tom shrugged. “It’s not important. She was a secretary at the palace, but she escaped before the trouble started. We’ve been hiding her at the U.S. Embassy for days.”
“It’s true. I got scared and wanted to go home, so I ran to the embassy, but I was too late. Everyone had gone. Tom agreed to help me get back to England.”
Jamal studied her as if seeing her properly for the first time. “Perhaps she has information that can help us.”
“I had the same thought,” said Tom. “Unfortunately, she doesn’t know anything important. She’s never even met Hakeem.”
“I worked in admin,” she said.
“That’s why she’s still here. She wasn’t important enough to extract. Now we’re being forced to do it the old-fashioned way.” He gave a wry grin.
Jamal seemed to accept that.
“What else do you know of their weapons supply?” he asked.
She pretended to think. “Not much. I remember organizing a meeting with some foreign dignitaries. Abdul Anwar was there. As I was setting up, I overheard them talking about a shipment. I wasn’t privy to the meeting and didn’t take minutes or anything. Sorry I can’t be of more help.”
“Do you know what the shipment was or who was supplying them with armaments?”
“No, like I said, I wasn’t involved in the meeting. I just set up the overhead projector and made tea.”
Jamal ran a frustrated hand through his hair.
“After all you’ve done for us, if there was any way I could repay you, I would,” she said, hoping he’d believe her. Lying wasn’t amongst her skillset, but in this case, her performance had to be Oscar-winning.
As soon as they got out of here, they could hand the intel to the Western nations, who’d be best equipped to take out Hakeem. These guys didn’t have the resources or the firepower. It would be a disaster.
She jumped as a RPG launched in the air, its trajectory curving right into the center of town. Seconds later, they heard a muted explosion.
“That’ll do some damage,” muttered Tom, thankful for the distraction. “We’d better keep moving. The longer we stay here, the more chance we have of being discovered.”
“We’re going in there?” She stared at the frenetic activity behind the row of sandbags and military vehicles.
“Yeah, do you know how to shoot a gun?” Tom asked.
She shook her head.
“Well, you’re about to learn.” Tom unclipped the 9mm pistol from his thigh holster. “It’s loaded. Use two hands to keep it steady when you fire it. The safety is here.” He pointed to the little switch. “Make sure it’s off before you engage. Then all you have to do is aim and pull the trigger.”
It didn’t sound too hard. She took the gun, unprepared for the sheer weight of it. It was warm on the one side, from the heat of his thigh, and icy cold on the other. She gripped it tightly in her hand. Aim and fire, she repeated silently. She could do that.
“How are we going to get across the road?” she asked.
Jamal pursed his lips. Abu-al-Rashid will handle that.
“Time for round two,” said Tom.
Another surge of fighting followed during which they ran along the outskirts of the carpark toward a bombed-out building that looked like a large barn.
“Hannah, stay here and don’t move,” Tom said.
She looked up in alarm. “Where are you going?”
“Scout around,” he said. “We need to meet Abu-al-Rashid’s contact, the man who’s going to get us out of here.”
“In the army vehicle, you mean?” She remembered the original plan.
Jamal nodded. “We need to find him first. With the cell networks down, we have no way of contacting each other.”
That wasn’t good. Hannah sank down behind a pile of crates. Her legs felt like lead but she was sure it was just the adrenaline wearing off.
“You’re invisible here,” Tom told her. “But if you’re discovered, use your gun.”
Would she be able to? Could she shoot someone at close range?
He sensed her hesitation. “Before they shoot you,” he said.
“Okay,” she whispered.
The men disappeared out the back and she settled down to wait. Would they be long? Would they even find Abu-al-Rashid’s contact? What if they didn’t? What would they do then? They were behind enemy lines. Exposed.
A lump formed in her throat. Too many what ifs… too much uncertainty.
She wrapped her arms around herself and shut her eyes. Perhaps she could use the time to recharge her batteries, she hadn’t had much sleep last night. Waves of exhaustion flowed over her, and she was about to nod off when a rustling made her open her eyes.
She gasped. A soldier stood directly in front of her, pointing a gun at her head.