Aggressor Part 28

8

Nana's eyes devoured the remaining pages, and she had to keep wiping her face with the back of her hand to stop more tears from falling and smudging the ink.

Colour bars flickered to life on all three screens as Paata rigged up the dish just outside the barn doors. Koba sparked up behind us. I guessed he wanted to know the same things as the rest of us what was wrong, what did it say?

The screens flickered. A woman in a blue jacket materialized in front of us, sitting at a desk in an empty studio. She pulled on her set of headphones and the speakers crackled. Sure enough, we were going live. 'Nana? Nana?'

Nana cut the sound and pulled on her own set of earphones and boom mike. She took a moment to compose herself, then started talking in low, urgent tones. Baz's name came up again and again as she looked down and quoted long chunks from the doc.u.ment. The woman in the studio looked horrified. Behind us, Koba was building himself into a rage. This wasn't good; Baz's text was supposed to help us.

When she reached the bottom of the last page, she closed the folder with a snap and shoved it into the side pocket of her Gore-Tex.

She exchanged a closing word or two with her colleague in the studio, who got up from the desk and disappeared off-screen.

Nana's eyes were still full as she removed her headphones. 'We planned to address parliament with Zurab tomorrow.' She was trying hard not to break down. 'We were going to film him presenting the contents of this doc.u.ment to us in front of his government colleagues, in front of the very men he was going to expose.' Her head shook slowly from side to side. 'But none of us had any idea... no idea that these revelations would be so... so...' She really had to search for the word. 'Abominable' was what she came up with, but I could see from her expression it still didn't fit the bill.

The word seemed to hang in the air, then her hand came up to her mouth again. I didn't know what to say how could I? I hadn't a clue what it was she'd just been reading. All I knew was that Nana was a tough one, but Baz's stuff had turned her into a mess. And that it didn't look as though the doc.u.ment was going to help us get off the dirt and away from here.

'Nana, you believe us now? You need to let us go before the police come. Nana? Nana?'

She still wasn't listening. 'He wouldn't tell me... He thought it would put me in too much danger...' She turned to face us again, with red, hate-filled eyes. 'Believe you? Why? Why should I believe you? Explain it to the police. See if you can persuade them.'

'Listen, lady. I wasn't there. I just got told to deliver the bag. Don't you lump me in with these murdering f.u.c.ks.' b.a.s.t.a.r.d was nothing if not persistent. I almost found myself starting to admire him.

'You! Shut the f.u.c.k up.' Charlie clearly didn't feel the same.

We had to try to convince her before the uniforms arrived. It was unlikely they'd be speaking our language. 'Nana. Why would we give you this stuff? We've told you what happened. Did you see me kill him? No. All we were there for was the papers. If we were part of it, why would we tape this fat b.a.s.t.a.r.d?'

It wasn't working. She turned back to the monitors. They were rerunning the bulletin. The girl in the studio was talking, but there was no sound. At least, not from the screen. But we'd all heard the noise outside.

'Police.' Nana sounded relieved.

Paata came running back into the barn, screaming in Paperclip. I only managed to pick up one word, and it didn't sound good news to me.

I turned my head. Koba was still behind us. He looked like he hadn't enjoyed hearing Akaki mentioned any more than I had.

The scream of engines got louder. Koba got more and more agitated. Three or four wagonloads of militants, by the sound of it, and only one of him. I could see his dilemma.

Nana tried to calm him down, but it wasn't happening. The Desert Eagle was still pointed at us, safety off, and the muzzle waved alarmingly from side to side. His eyes brimmed with tears of rage.

b.a.s.t.a.r.d just lay there. He seemed to be almost enjoying it. What the f.u.c.k was the matter with him?

Charlie turned onto his back.

'Calm down, Koba lad. Or point that f.u.c.king thing somewhere else...'

I double-checked under the van, along the rear wall. No sign of a back door.

The vehicles were on top of us now. Charlie was the first to see them. 'Taliban wagons!'

I glanced back towards the doors.

Guys in black masks and green combat jackets, some with ponchos, swarmed out of Toyota pickups, laden with AKs, light machine guns and belts of 7.62 short.

Koba ran straight for them, screaming, sobbing, going ballistic.

I leaped up and grabbed Charlie. 'Let's go, go, go! go!'

The heavy-calibre .357 kicked in Koba's hands. I heard screams from both sides of the barn doors.

Charlie and I ducked down behind the van. f.u.c.k knows where the other three had got to; I didn't care.

b.a.s.t.a.r.d materialized behind us as two bursts of AK put an end to the Desert Eagle. Angry shouts echoed round the barn.

I looked under the van. Koba was writhing in the mud beside one of the wagons. Blood pumped from the holes drilled into his torso.

A big guy with wild hair and an Osama-style beard walked across to him, the b.u.t.t of an AK in his poncho-draped shoulder. He leaned in and squeezed the trigger. The weapon kicked, and Koba's head exploded like a melon.

PART ELEVEN

1

Nana had b.a.l.l.s, that was for sure.

She was straight over to confront Akaki and the first of his men who piled through the doors. She seemed to applaud his courageous victory over the cowardly capitalist lapdog, Koba, then she treated them to a blur of hands and Paperclip as she pointed to the satellite dish, the van, the arc lights, the camera.

But I didn't get to see her whole performance. Another wagonload had swarmed round our side of the Merc and were using their boots and rifle b.u.t.ts to corral us in the corner of the barn, near Baz's memorial bench. I'd already seen enough, though, to know that whatever she was on about, Akaki's men were very poor listeners.

I tried to look on the bright side. At least we got to sit down. I also tried to look relaxed and avoid eye-to-eye with the guys herding us. One of them had tucked Koba's mud-splattered Desert Eagle into his belt.

b.a.s.t.a.r.d's eyes were everywhere, scanning the crowd.

Some of Akaki's boys were beginning to pull off their masks, exposing rough bearded faces and blackened teeth. There were a couple of teenagers still struggling to get past the b.u.m-fluff stage, but most of them were in their late twenties or older. Whatever, they all affected the same swagger; they knew they were the big swinging d.i.c.ks around here. They looked like battle-hardened Afghani mujahideen, right down to their choice of wheels. For a long time now, n.o.body I knew had called a Toyota pick-up anything but a Taliwagon.

Some had made a beeline for the Merc, and were poking about inside. Others, worryingly, just stared at us with glazed, f.u.c.ked-up eyes, like the junkies in the graveyard.

Nana was still trying to engage the group near the doors, but they were losing interest fast. Most of them were just giving her lecherous looks and sharing the sort of boys' talk that didn't leave much to the imagination.

Paata's eyes never left her. I hoped he wasn't contemplating playing superhero. One of us dead in the mud was enough.

Charlie still seemed to be looking out for the non-existent back door, and the treeline on the high ground beyond it.

Akaki's men took a deferential step or two back as he swept Nana to one side and strode into the barn. He stopped and surveyed the scene with wild, crazy eyes. Droplets of rain spilled from his curly black hair. He grabbed a handful of beard and squeezed out a pint or so more.

Nana was steeling herself to confront him when two blood-drenched corpses were dragged into the centre of the barn like dead dogs. They'd both taken several rounds to the torso, but the carefully positioned shots through their hands and feet told the most significant story.

Eduard and his wife had already had their interview.

Nana stormed across the barn, but b.a.s.t.a.r.d was quicker. He jumped to his feet and brushed aside a couple of militants who weren't quick enough to step out of his way. 'Akaki, you miserable f.u.c.k!'

Akaki pulled his rain-soaked poncho over his head, to reveal a pair of Levi 501s, a US BDU jacket and the kind of woollen jumper that could only have come from the shop where Charlie and I had bought ours. He'd shoved some sort of semi-automatic into his shoulder holster and four extra AK mags in his chest harness.

He didn't even blink as b.a.s.t.a.r.d approached; just raised a hand to calm anyone shaping up to blow holes in him. The expression on his face was that of a man who'd spotted a relative he'd never much liked, but had to put up with. They knew each other all right.

'You!' b.a.s.t.a.r.d's finger jabbed in Nana's direction. 'f.u.c.king Barbara Walters! Give him those papers; tell him I want out of here.'

The Merc's suspension groaned as he disappeared through the side door.

Akaki ripped Baz's papers from Nana's outstretched hand. She kept talking, f.u.c.k knows what about, but he was no more in the mood to listen than she had been ten minutes ago. He lashed out with his fist; she took the punch square on the cheek and crumpled to the floor.

Paata sprang to his feet but took the b.u.t.t of an AK in the chest for his trouble. Nana screamed at him to stay put. Akaki bellowed at her and raised his hand to deliver another slap.

b.a.s.t.a.r.d was firing on all cylinders. 'Happy now, you demented f.u.c.k? Got what you want?' He jabbed at Akaki with a sausage finger to emphasize every word. 'I nearly got killed because of you. Now get me out of here!' He kicked Nana in the ribs. 'Translate! f.u.c.king tell him! Tell him the police are coming.'

Nana did as she was told; at least I thought she did. The word 'police' is pretty much universal.

Akaki just laughed, and one by one his men joined in. Yep, they were really s.h.i.+tting themselves that a couple of blue-and-whites were on the way.

b.a.s.t.a.r.d wasn't fazed. I saw the outline of the Marriott ca.s.sette in his wet jacket pocket.

He turned his attention towards me and Charlie, as if the joke was on us. 'You two f.u.c.ks really think I was coming all the way with you?'

He came and stood inches from my face. 'You know what? I should have gone to the cemetery and done the job myself, instead of hiring a moron with a machete to make a king-size f.u.c.k-up.'

He spotted Koba's weapon and hooked it out of its proud new owner's belt.

f.u.c.k him; I wasn't going to flinch this time when he squeezed the trigger.

I looked him straight in the eye as he closed one hand on the grip and brought the other one up for good measure.

Nana screamed Paata's name but she needn't have bothered. Akaki roared an order and b.a.s.t.a.r.d got an AK b.u.t.t on the side of the head before he even saw it coming.

Charlie kicked the Desert Eagle away as it fell to the ground at our feet.

The militant leader stormed across and started yelling at b.a.s.t.a.r.d, punctuating every sentence with a good kick to the American's prostrate bulk. The fat man only managed to crawl away as his attacker began to tire.

Nana translated. 'He says you can take Eduard and Nato's car. If you don't go now, he will kill you. He says that he imagines he's not the only person here who would like to see that.' She paused. 'And on that score, at least, he is telling the truth.'

b.a.s.t.a.r.d reached Eduard's corpse on his hands and knees, and delved into the bloodstained pockets like a starving man fighting for food. A set of keys glinted in Paata's arc lights, and he staggered to his feet. His gut heaved. He stared at me, his nostrils flaring and whistling as his overweight body sucked in oxygen. He had things he still wanted to say, but he'd left them too late.

Akaki grabbed him by the roll of fat above his collar and frogmarched him all the way to the door.

b.a.s.t.a.r.d disappeared from view, but he was still determined to have the final word. When Akaki's boys had finished applauding their beloved leader's most recent show of strength, his voice echoed along the rain-soaked track.

'I want those f.u.c.ks dead! Kill them!'

2

I was starting to get the hang of Akaki; he wasn't a big fan of the long game.

He towered over Nana, pummelling her shoulder as he let her know what was on his mind.

Paata kept a watchful eye on the AKs just inches away from them as he translated for us. 'He wants an interview, right here and now. He has an important message for his fellow Georgians, and wants his words to be recorded for posterity.' He somehow managed to talk as calmly as if he was discussing overtime rates.

The three of us watched Nana's hands emphasize every word of her response. She wasn't backing down.

It was turning into quite a show. Even the guys guarding us were crowding round and tuning in.

'He's rambling,' Paata said, as Akaki turned up the volume another couple of notches. 'He says he wants to tell the world of his fight for freedom and against corruption. He says he will work to continue this battle, until victory or until he meets G.o.d.' An edge of concern crept into his voice.

Charlie nodded. 'He knows he can come out with any old b.o.l.l.o.c.ks he wants to now. He's got the papers, and Baz isn't here to disagree.'

I was worried about Nana. 'Why don't you guys just let him have what he wants? What's she giving him a hard time about?'

'She's telling him it's a great idea, but we should go and film him in the village. He needs to be seen out in the open, among his people, not cowering in a cattle shed... She says his film needs to have an epic scale; anything less would not do his message justice. She'll do the edit when she's back in Tbilisi.'

'Yeah, right. I bet he's really buying into that.'

'She has to try.' He sighed. 'He only tolerates people like us as long as we're of use to him. And when we no longer are, or if we do something that offends him...'

'We're history?'

Paata nodded. 'He slaughtered a French crew not so long ago...' He c.o.c.ked his head. He'd heard something he didn't like. 'Oh s.h.i.+t... He's talking about the dish. He knows we can go out live.'

His eyes flicked anxiously between us and Nana. 'She's insisting they tape it, and in the village, not here... She's trying to give us a chance to escape, I'm sure of it.'