right. ‘Okay. You watch for—’ He stopped, sniffing. The stench of garbage was unpleasant enough, but there was another, more ominous odour mixed in with it. ‘You smell that?’
Castille’s large nostrils twitched, and his face fell. ‘Yes. Do you think . . . ’
‘Yeah, I think.’ Chase peeled away a mouldering piece of sacking to reveal what he had feared – a corpse. White skin, not olive or brown. One of the hostages. ‘Shit!’
‘There is another here,’ Castille reported mournfully. ‘No, two more. Their throats have been cut.’
‘Saves on bullets,’ Chase said bitterly as he found a fourth body beneath the first. Even in the moonlight, he recognised the face from the mission briefing. ‘I’ve found our spook. Fuck!’ He sat back on his haunches, fuming. ‘Any more?’
‘No. So, they’ve killed four of them.’
‘Which still leaves eight.’ He looked at the barn . . . then an object beside it. A large, old-fashioned refrigerator lying on its side, the door missing. Churned-up dirt showed where it had been dragged from the trash and pushed against the wall. ‘Keep an eye out, I’ll check the barn.’
Castille covering him, Chase crept forward. As he suspected, the fridge had been moved to act as a barricade, blocking a gap. He peered between the planks.
Holes in the roof provided pools of moonlight inside, enough for him to make out the slight movement of somebody’s breathing. The man was bound, his face darkened with bruises and blood. Another man’s tied legs were visible nearby, other forms in the shadows.
The mission wasn’t over, then. He moved to the corner of the barn and glanced round it, seeing another half a dozen large tents behind the house, as well as more tethered horses. He returned to Castille, and they dropped back into the ditch. Another long crawl, and they reached the scrubby bushes where the others were waiting. ‘They’ve killed four of the hostages,’ Chase reported. ‘Including the guy from MI6.’
That prompted a round of muttered obscenities. ‘The mission’s down the lavatory then,’ said Stikes.
‘There are still the other hostages,’ Mac reminded him. ‘Did you see them?’
‘Yeah,’ said Chase. ‘They’re tied up in the barn. But there’re another six tents behind the house, and more horses. I think we’re talking at least forty Terries altogether.’
‘Hrmm,’ Mac rumbled, thinking. ‘Jason, get on the radio and see if any additional air support has become available. It’s a long shot, but it’s worth a try.’
‘You don’t think we’ll be able to take ’em?’ Baine asked.
‘Not all of them, and if we have to make a run for it with the hostages I’d like to have as much firepower covering us as possible.’
‘There’s something else,’ said Chase as Starkman made the call. ‘There’s a hut past the barn, and there are more prisoners in it. Women.’
‘So what are you proposing we do?’ said Stikes with a sneer. ‘They’re not our problem – our only concern is rescuing our hostages.’
Chase stared at him in disbelief. ‘Are you fucking serious? These Taliban arseholes hate women. Whatever they’re planning on doing with them, it won’t be giving ’em flowers and foot massages!’
‘Watch your language with me, sergeant,’ Stikes hissed. ‘Much as you might want to play the white knight, we can’t take them with us. There isn’t enough room in the helicopters.’
‘Four of the hostages are dead,’ Chase insisted, ‘so we’ve got spare seats – and if there’s more of them some of us can ride on the skids.’
Baine snorted. ‘I’m not hanging off the bottom of a fucking chopper so some silly bitch in a burka can get a free ride, Yorkie. Fuck that!’
Chase made an angry move towards him, but Mac raised his hand. ‘Eddie, I’m sorry, but Alexander’s right. The hostages are our priority. The women will . . . ’ He shook his head, downcast. ‘They’ll have to fend for themselves.’
‘Can I at least let them out of the hut?’
Mac considered for a moment. ‘If the situation allows.’
Chase nodded, then everyone looked round as Starkman finished his radio call. ‘Good news and bad news,’ the American announced.
Bluey chuckled. ‘There’s a surprise.’
‘Good news is, there’s a Spooky, call sign Hammer Four-One, in the air. Bad news is, it’s currently on another op and they don’t know when, or even if, it’ll be able to get to us.’
‘No helicopters?’ asked Mac. Starkman shook his head. ‘That settles it, then. We can’t wait for backup – it won’t be long before somebody realises those sentries are missing. We move in now.’