‘Laurent,’ he shouted into his radio as the sound of drums began again. ‘Fifty feet below our position. Use the twenty-millimetre.’
The Rooivalk swooped down for one last pass. The cannon under its belly swivelled, spitting out the last of its rounds in a long burst of gunfire that ripped through the forest. Bits of bark splintered off and the ground became alive in the maelstrom, destroying the next wave of the LRA attack before it had even begun. The helicopter roared overhead, then pulled back into a hover on the far edge of the battlefield, just beyond the range of the RPGs.
‘You can’t do anything else,’ Jean-Luc shouted into his radio. ‘Now get the hell out of here.’
‘Sorry, Major,’ came Laurent’s voice. ‘It’s over five hours before I can reload and get back.’
Jean-Luc pressed the earpiece hard against his head, trying to make out what Laurent was saying above the noise of the drums.
‘Say again,’ he shouted.
‘Rotation. Five hours for reload.’
‘Copy that. Now get clear.’
As he gave the order, Thierry turned to look at him with doubt in his eyes. Their own helicopter was sitting twenty feet behind them with its rotors still turning. It was their only chance of escape. They had to take it.
‘Major,’ he shouted. ‘Five hours? Even with the last of the 7.62mm rounds, we’re only got enough for one more attack, two at most.’
‘Man your post. We wait until Luca and Beatrice get back.’
Thierry’s jaw clenched.
‘Don’t you get it, Major? That was an impossible climb! There is no way he would have been able to get into the mine.’
‘We maintain this perimeter,’ Jean-Luc snarled, reaching out his fist and grabbing the front of Thierry’s webbing. ‘That’s it.’
‘But this is suicide,’ Thierry whispered, his voice rising in desperation.
Jean-Luc’s fist clenched harder. ‘You man up! We’re not leaving this position.’
Thierry stared rigidly down the sights of his rifle. They had already lost one helicopter, but still the Major couldn’t see what had been obvious to them all. No one could have made that climb at night. They were waiting for dead men.
In the distance, they saw two more rockets rise up. The first missed the last Oryx, while the second detonated twenty or so feet to its port side, rocking the entire aircraft. Slowly, it listed over and started to lose altitude, the engines whining under duress, until it fell down into the trees and exploded in a mushrooming ball of smoke and red flame.
‘What do we do now?’ Thierry screamed. ‘What the hell do we do? There’s one chopper left against an entire fucking army!’
Laying down his rifle on the rocks, he stared at Jean-Luc, eyes shining with impotent fury. ‘Major! We have to leave now! I’m getting on that chopper.’
Jean-Luc didn’t turn towards him, but when he spoke his voice came out in a low hiss.
‘Pick up that weapon or I will kill you myself.’
Thierry didn’t move and slowly Jean-Luc’s finger slid up to the trigger guard of his rifle. He was ready to turn round in an instant if Thierry decided to do something stupid and put a bullet in his back. But then, out of the corner of his eye, he saw Thierry slowly pick up the weapon. He chambered the first round, just as the next wave of attacks begun.
Jean-Luc emptied the last of his ammunition in quick controlled bursts, then switched to the 40mm grenades, loading each one into the chamber individually and firing them off. To his right, he could hear Thierry firing on automatic, screaming as he shot at anything that moved.
This was their last stand, and both of them knew it.
As Jean-Luc reached out to grab the last of his grenades, he suddenly caught sight of movement past the Oryx. A small team of LRA had scaled a near-vertical section of the slope and was now trying to outflank them. Pulling back from the edge, he skirted around the tailfin of the helicopter and fired his last remaining grenade. It detonated a few feet in front of the group in a blaze of fire and white smoke, leaving a trail of bodies strewn across the rocks.
Just as he was turning back, he saw one of the bodies slowly clamber to its feet. The man swayed slightly as he fought to regain his balance. Even from the distance, Jean-Luc could see that he was vast, with massive brawny shoulders sloping down into a wide back. He had obviously lost his weapon in the explosion and Jean-Luc waited for him to retreat, but instead he started a slow, lumbering jog towards him.
‘What the hell?’ Jean-Luc whispered, eyes narrowing in disbelief. He stared for a few seconds more, bewildered by the sheer insanity of the attack. The man was now clearly visible, approaching fast. He was half-naked from the waist up, with bulging muscles knotted across his abdomen and arms. A solid mass of V-shaped cutting scars ran down from the crown of his massive head, giving his features a cruel, inhuman look.
It was the Captain of the LRA patrol When he was within ten paces, Jean-Luc swiftly reached for his pistol but his fingers encountered the empty leather of the holster. He had given the pistol to Luca! Just as the Captain bore down on him, Jean-Luc yanked out his throwing knife and spun it hard at the man’s throat. The blade dug deep into the Captain’s breastplate, but did nothing to stop him.
The man roared with pain, reaching out to grab Jean-Luc. As his fingers widened in anticipation, Jean-Luc ducked swiftly out from under him, smashing his fist directly into the Captain’s jaw with an audible crack.
Jean-Luc stepped away, retreating in a wide circle and shaking his hand,. The Captain slowly turned round to face him. The punch had split the skin over his chin and lip, splattering blood across his mouth, but the man seemed not to have noticed. He smiled, revealing the blackened points of filed teeth. He threw his head back, roaring in defiance as he reached up and ripped the throwing knife out of his own chest.
Jean-Luc had his fists raised like a prize fighter as they came together again and landed a clean one-two on the
Captain’s
face and chest before ducking out from under his reach. He danced round, feigning a left jab, before swooping in low and twisting up with a massive right hook. It slammed into the side of the Captain’s face, jarring his whole head to one side.
Backing away again, Jean-Luc watched as the monster before him simply stretched out his jaw and gave a slow shake of his head. That hook was one of the hardest punches Jean-Luc had ever thrown, yet it hadn’t stopped his opponent for a second. As the Captain loomed closer, Jean-Luc could see the line of saliva oozing out from between his teeth. His eyes looked glazed from drugs which coursed through his veins, blocking out any sensation of pain or emotion.
Jean-Luc connected with another jab, but as he tried to roll out again, found his whole body being swung off balance as the Captain pulled him closer. He had managed to grab hold of Jean-Luc’s front webbing and, with a swing of his gigantic head, butted him on the corner of his eye and lashed out with the knife. Jean-Luc went reeling backwards as the blade flashed past his throat, missing him by an inch.
Collapsing on his knees, Jean-Luc ran his fingers over the deep indentation in his face where his cheekbone had been caved in. The Captain came in for the kill, with the knife raised high above his head. As he drew level, Jean-Luc suddenly pivoted round, sending the heel of his right boot crashing into the man’s kneecap. It snapped, backwards, instantly dropping him him on to the ground.
The Captain bellowed a scream of pure rage as he swung his huge torso round in the dirt. Jean-Luc pulled himself
backwards
over the ground, trying to get clear, but as he finally stood up, his vision swam from the blow to his head and he fell to the ground again.
The Captain flung himself forward so that his body landed on top of Jean-Luc’s. He gripped the knife in his right hand, driving it into Jean-Luc’s belly with all his strength. As the blade went in deeper, Jean-Luc’s body spasmed and he let out a low gurgling sound. The Captain pulled himself closer, so that his face was right in front of him.
‘
Oui
,’ he breathed. ‘
Sentez-le
.’ Feel it.
Jean-Luc stared back into those black, gleeful eyes, filled with absolute evil. He couldn’t tear his gaze away. It felt as if they were draining the life from him with each second that passed. Then a single gunshot rang out and the Captain’s head suddenly slumped down on to Jean-Luc’s chest. For a moment he lay there, unable to move, while warm blood soaked into his neck and shoulders.
‘Major,’ Thierry shouted. ‘Are you all right?’
He was standing just to their left with his rifle still raised. After a moment’s hesitation, he ran forward and pulled the deadweight of the Captain off Jean-Luc.
Jean-Luc stood up with his legs wide, trying to steady himself. He knew enough about abdominal wounds not to pull the knife from his body, but could feel that the blade had gone deep into his stomach. Too deep. As he stood there, swaying slightly, he knew that now it was only a matter of time.
‘Major!’ Thierry shouted.
‘Yes, I’m OK,’ Jean-Luc whispered, resting his arm on Thierry’s shoulder. ‘Thank you.’
As they staggered back towards the helicopter, Jean-Luc could see the black hilt of the knife protruding above the line of his webbing. It felt surreal, such a small thing, yet there it was. And now, without proper medical attention, there was nothing more that could be done.
Reaching up to his breast pocket, he pulled out a cigarette. The tobacco was crushed flat, but it still lit and he drew down deeply on it.
‘Bring the GPMG back from the edge,’ Jean-Luc ordered. ‘And stack up the last of the ammo.’
As Thierry moved off, Jean-Luc gripped the knife hilt. He had seen many men die of stomach wounds before; watched as they writhed in pain, begging for it to end quickly. Whatever happened, he couldn’t let Bear see him that way. After all he had put her through, he was not going to let her see him like that.
Shutting his eyes, he yanked the blade out of his stomach, gasping as blood spurted out, soaking down into the fabric of his trousers. He let the knife drop from his hand and stared at it for several seconds, only looking up again as Thierry returned.
‘The attacks have stopped,’ he said. ‘I saw gunfire farther over to the west, down past the edge of the volcano. What the hell’s going on, Major? Why are they retreating?’
‘It’s the Mai-Mai. Devlin’s finally got them here. The LRA are regrouping,’ Jean-Luc managed, staring out towards the outline of the forest. They heard the sound of rifle fire intensifying, rattling out in bursts from one side then the next. There was the whoosh of another RPG, followed by an explosion.
Jean-Luc offered Thierry a drag of his cigarette.
‘The Mai-Mai should keep them occupied for …’ he said, then stopped as behind them they heard a shout from higher up the slope. It was a woman’s voice.
They saw two figures clambering down the last of the rocks towards them, then a moment later Bear burst on to the flat ground with Luca trailing behind. She rushed forward with her unlaced boots flapping open, and without breaking stride ran into her father’s arms. Jean-Luc wrapped his arms around her body, hugging her to him.
‘Papa,’ she whispered.
THIERRY STRAPPED HIMSELF
into the pilot’s seat of the helicopter and immediately began prepping them for take off. His hands moved over the switches in a steady rhythm while behind him Luca clambered on board, listening while the engine changed pitch and the rotors began to quicken. They whipped up dust from the ground in a wide radius. Arm in arm, Jean-Luc and Bear hurried towards the cabin, the tops of their heads pressed together. Jean-Luc was gently pushing her forward with each stride and, as she ducked under the rotors and came into the light, Luca could see that she was crying.
‘
Mais je ne comprends pas
,’ But I don’t understand, she pleaded, turning to face her father straight on. ‘
Pourquoi tu ne viens pas maintenant?
’ Why won’t you come now?
Jean-Luc hugged her close, kissing the top of her head and brushing her hair back from her eyes.
‘
Je dois rester et attendre les autres mineurs
.’ I have to stay and wait for the other miners. It’s OK,
bébé
. You go and I’ll catch up.’
‘Please, Papa. Don’t do this now,’ Bear begged, her forehead creasing in confusion. ‘
Quelqu’un d’autre peut faire çela. Viens avec moi
.’ Someone else can do that. Come with me.
Jean-Luc gave a faint smile. ‘But no one else is left,’ he said, then raising his right hand, he gently stroked her cheek, knowing that it was the last time he would ever see his daughter. He saw that his fingers had left a thin trail of blood down the side of her face.
‘I’m sorry, Beatrice,’ he whispered into her ear. ‘I am so sorry for everything.’
‘Papa!’ Bear cried, the tears running freely down her cheeks. ‘Please, Papa, stop this! Get on board the helicopter.’
‘Not this time,’ Jean-Luc said, his voice cracking slightly. ‘
Je t’ai toujours aimé, ma petite
.’ I have always loved you.
Pushing her up into the cabin, he gestured at Luca to take hold of her and stop her from climbing back out.
‘Fly low and get to Goma,’ he ordered Thierry. ‘Contact Dr Samuels from
Médecins Sans Frontières
in Kigali and get them to bring their Sikorsky. It’s the only helicopter big enough around here to carry out all the miners. The Mai-Mai should tie up these bastards for a good few hours, and Laurent should be able to cover them during the extraction.’