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Jeremy allows a moment of relaxation.
It seems to be going well.
The leader smiles again, as do the other men, and he too slings his rifle over his shoulder.
Now it seems to be going very well indeed.
The man taps his chest. “I am Farez.”
“Pleased to make your acquaintance,” Jeremy says, breathing easier. Ollie seems to sense his relaxation. Jeremy says, “Again, my apologies for trespassing. My Uncle George promises he can sort it all out.”
“Ah,” Farez says, “your wealthy and influential Uncle George.”
He laughs and the rest of the men—except for the old man sitting against the wall—laugh as well, then Farez comes forward and punches Jeremy squarely in the face. Jeremy gasps more in surprise than pain—the code word and acknowledgment had been used!—and staggers back as Farez quickly removes his AK-47 and drives it into Jeremy’s abdomen.
He lets out a cough and he’s on the ground, and so is Ollie, and the kicks and the blows from the automatic rifles rain down, and he squirms and tries to curl into a ball to protect himself as much as possible, but the handcuffs and ropes make that impossible, and he’s drifting into unconsciousness, knowing it’s all gone horribly wrong.
