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A few hundred metres in, where the van had gone down a ridgeline onto flatter ground, Harry drove up. Just far enough to get the utility out of view and hopefully give him an elevated viewpoint, and he turned off the engine.
The silence was so damn loud.
He took the duffle bag and trekked further along, crouching and fast, down into what looked like an old creek bed, and soon enough some weathered shack-like buildings came into view. One longer rectangular building, one smaller square one, maybe just over a hundred metres away. The white van was parked near the bigger shack, but also another four-wheel drive.
Which meant a possible four or five other people, not including how many were in the van with Asher.
Harry found a good spot to get a view from and took Asher’s binoculars from the duffle bag. The smaller shack appeared empty. No lights, no activity. The larger building had black plastic over the glassless windows, but there was an orange glow from the edges. Three men stood outside, guarding each side Harry could see. He assumed there was a fourth man on the far side.
They wore dark fatigues with beanies, each man was armed with AK-47s, and the guy at the front had a walkie-talkie. Possibly some Omani special unit? About to be very dead.
Harry had to choose which gun to take them out with. One of Asher’s babies, the MAC 50, probably, though it would take time to set up, and he had doubts on the Compact’s accuracy over the distance. He really was better in close-contact.
Then he heard yelling from inside the shack, and he no longer cared about the guns.
He took both his pistols, one in each hand, both with suppressors, and crept out of the trench. He ran, low to the ground toward the shack, the uneven ground, rocks and sand, was unforgiving on his tender ankle.
He didn’t care.
He heard more voices from inside the shack. Gibson was yelling—Harry knew the voice—and muffled grunts like someone was being used as a punching bag.
Asher.
Running faster now, Harry raised the gun in his right hand and aimed it at the man with the walkie-talkie in front of the shack. He seemed surprised to see him until Harry shot him in the chest.
Harry kept running, now toward the right side of the shack.
The man turned just as Harry reached him and Harry shot him in the head. Not his prettiest shot, but effective, nonetheless. Without stopping for even a second, Harry ran toward the back of the building and almost collided with another of the guards. He was so close that when Harry shot him point blank in the face, a fine red mist plumed upward from where the man fell backwards, sideways, absent the back of his head.
Harry stepped over him, slipping one gun into the waistband of his jeans, and went in search of the fourth guard. He must have heard the thuds, surely.
Harry had to move fast.
He rounded the far end of the building, to what had been the left side when he’d watched with the binoculars. There was no guard. Harry ducked down low and ran the full side of the building, back around to the front. The first dead guard was there. But no one else.
Harry wanted to forget the fourth guy and just get inside as fast as he could, but he knew better than to leave a threat behind. So he backtracked to the rear of the building just as the guard was heading back the other way.
It really wasn’t Harry’s style to shoot someone in the back.
“Psst.”
The man spun around at the sound, and Harry shot him in the forehead.Much more Harry’s style.
Now it was time for the main event.
Harry didn’t know how many men were inside or how armed they were, but he did still have the element of surprise on his side. Harry could only guess no one could hear anything over the way Gibson was yelling.
Dumbass.
Harry was at the back of the shack, and there was a door. There was no handle, but the hinges creaked loudly when he pushed on it.
There’s no hiding that.
“Go and see what that was,” Gibson yelled.
Harry stepped into what was a smaller room. It was dark, the only light coming through another doorway. There, he was met by another guy dressed in black fatigues like the other guards. He made a startled sound before Harry shot him in the heart.
There was definitely no element of surprise now.
