thickly accented English, ‘and what are you doing in my ruins?’
Eddie and Kit weaved through the jungle, plants whipping at their faces. ‘Over there!’ Eddie said, seeing footprints heading up the bank. He followed them. ‘Just up this, and we’re—’
Figures standing around the 4×4s.
Too many figures.
Instinct kicked in and he dropped flat, dragging Kit with him as more rifles fired. Bullets ripped into the ground just above them.
The gunfire stopped. Gesturing for Kit to stay still, Eddie crawled sidelong until he was below a plant’s dangling fronds. Very cautiously, he raised his head and peered through the leaves.
The other team members were lined up on their knees before the Land Cruisers, hands behind their heads. Nina was at the centre, between Macy and Cuff. None appeared to have been harmed.
Yet.
A man wearing a tan beret was partially visible behind the nearer 4×4, but Eddie fixed his attention on the person in charge: a Venezuelan officer in sunglasses standing behind the prisoners, one hand on his holstered automatic. ‘Throw your guns over the top and raise your hands above your heads!’ he shouted.
‘What do we do?’ Kit whispered.
They were outnumbered, only limited ammo remaining, and, with the prisoners held at gunpoint and more soldiers closing from behind, the chances of taking down the Venezuelans without suffering multiple losses were almost zero. ‘We’ll have to give up,’ Eddie reluctantly told him. Kit looked shocked. ‘Yeah, it’s a pisser, I know. But if we don’t—’
The officer shouted again. ‘If you do not surrender by the time I count to three, I will kill one of your friends!’ Eddie looked through the leaves again, his blood chilling when he saw that the man had drawn his gun and moved behind Nina. He started to count, with almost no pause between the numbers. ‘One, two—’
‘No!’ Eddie yelled, flinging his AK over the rise and jumping up with his hands held high. Kit did the same.
The cold gaze behind the sunglasses regarded them for a moment. Nobody moved. Then—
‘Three.’
He pulled the trigger.
The bullet hit the back of Cuff’s skull from point-blank range. It shattered into fragments as it punched through bone, red-hot metal chunks liquefying brain tissue. One of the pieces exploded from his right eye socket at the head of a terrible gout of grey and red. Cuff slumped lifelessly in his own blood.
Nina had been almost deafened by the gunshot barely two feet from her head. The ringing in her ears gradually faded, only to be replaced by another sound. Screaming. Loretta was wailing hysterically at the sight of Cuff’s body. The other prisoners were also in shock.
The officer gestured to two of his men. Weapons locked on Eddie and Kit, they recovered the discarded AK-103s, then brought the explorers to their commander. The three golden stars of his insignia told the former SAS man that he was a major general – one of the highest Venezuelan military ranks. He removed his sunglasses, revealing dark, narrow eyes, blinking as infrequently as a lizard’s. ‘Are there any more of you?’ he asked.
‘No,’ Eddie replied.
‘If you are lying, I will kill you all. Starting with her.’ He pointed his pistol at Nina. She looked fearfully at her husband.
‘This is all of us. I’m not lying,’ said Eddie.
The officer stared at him for several seconds before finally turning away, appearing satisfied. His gaze moved on to Loretta, who was still crying. ‘Rojas,’ he said to a man nearby, a sergeant. ‘That noise. Silence it.’
Rojas stepped up to Loretta and with a swift, savage move smashed a fist across her face, knocking her to the ground. ‘You fucker!’ Eddie cried, lunging at him, only to have two Kalashnikov muzzles stabbed hard into his chest, then the stock of a third rifle slammed against the back of his head. He dropped to his knees in pain.
The man standing behind the Land Cruiser spoke. ‘Always did try to play the white knight for the ladies, didn’t you . . . Chase?’
Eddie looked up in shock. He knew that voice. The speaker strode out and stood before him, a smug smile on his chiselled face.
It was Alexander Stikes.
13
‘You know this guy?’ Nina asked, shocked. ‘Unfortunately, yeah,’ said Eddie. ‘He’s a complete fucking bell-end called Stikes.’
‘Alexander Stikes,’ said the man in question, introducing himself to Nina with mock civility. ‘Formerly of the SAS. I had the dubious privilege of commanding Corporal Chase here.’
Eddie gave him a cutting half-smile. ‘Until I got him kicked out.’
Stikes sneered. ‘Don’t award yourself credit where it’s not