Deadfall: Agent 21 by Chris Ryan Page B

Raf.
    Until Gabs was five metres away.
    With a sudden, lightning-fast movement, she aimed the flare gun – not at the gunman’s head or chest, but at his feet. There was a massive whooshing sound as she fired the flare into the hard ground,and a burst of light and smoke that made Zak clench his eyes shut.
    It was only ten seconds later, when the smoke had cleared, that he was able to take stock of the situation again. The gunman was face down on the ground. He didn’t seem to be hurt, but Gabs had relieved him of his weapon and was now holding
him
at gunpoint.
    Raf was talking urgently to the other two attendants. They nodded vigorously, clearly eager to do what he said, and continued to fill the plane with fuel, while casting occasional terrified glances at the grim-faced Gabs.
    ‘Does she do that sort of thing a lot?’ Malcolm asked in a slightly awed voice.
    ‘Yeah,’ Zak nodded. He was sweating profusely with the tension. ‘Quite a lot.’
    ‘Why didn’t she just kill him?’
    Zak turned to look at his companion. ‘Why kill someone,’ he asked, ‘when you don’t have to?’
    Malcolm looked confused, and Zak had to remind himself once more that he wasn’t like other people.
    Five minutes later, the refuelling was complete. Zak and Malcolm watched as Gabs forced the gunman to walk away from the plane with his hands on his head. Ten metres. Twenty metres. Thirty. He wasclearly happy to keep walking, and he kept on going of his own accord as Gabs returned to the plane, the rifle still in her hands. Raf paid the attendants the remainder of the money, then climbed back into the pilot’s seat.
    Malcolm looked even more confused. ‘Why did he still pay them the money?’ he asked Zak. ‘We’ve got a gun.’
    A dark look crossed Raf’s face. ‘We’re not thieves,’ he said. ‘And these people have next to nothing.’ He started up the engine. ‘You’re a clever guy, Malcolm, but you’ve got a lot to learn about the world. Maybe this is a good place to start.’
    As the Cessna reversed, Zak saw Malcolm’s forehead crease. He looked confused. Maybe a bit embarrassed. Like a kid who had been told off at school.
    The Cessna turned in a wide circle, then started to gather speed, bumping and jolting along the dry, stony road. After twenty seconds, Raf pulled back gently on the yoke and the plane lifted into the air, then banked again towards the north.
    Twilight was falling over Africa. The harsh ground seemed softer, somehow. As they continued to climb, Zak stared out with a kind of wonder. In a patch of ground dotted with trees perhaps 750 metres to the west, he saw a herd of some kind ofanimal thundering across the plain. They looked strangely human. Baboons, perhaps? He couldn’t quite tell, and was about to ask Gabs what she thought when his daydream was broken by the crackling of the radio bursting into life again.
    A few seconds of interference. Then Zak instantly recognized Michael’s voice.
    ‘
Raf, do you copy?
’
    ‘Go ahead,’ Raf said calmly.
    ‘
Have you refuelled?
’
    ‘Roger that.’
    ‘
Any problems?
’
    ‘Nothing we couldn’t deal with.’
    ‘
Good. Listen carefully. The Martinez aircraft has changed direction
.’
    ‘What do you mean? He’s not heading for Senegal any more?’
    ‘
Oh, he’s heading for Senegal all right. Just not Dakar. Can Zak hear me?
’
    ‘Loud and clear,’ said Zak.
    ‘
Cruz’s father had drugs processing plants in the Mexican jungle, right?
’
    Zak remembered very well a day he’d spent at such a place. He had only known Cruz for a couple of days at the time, and they had been friends back then.
    ‘Right.’
    ‘
Well, guess what. If our intel is correct, Cruz has just landed in a remote area of tropical rainforest in the south of Senegal, about fifty miles from the Gambian border. I rather doubt he’s heading there on holiday. You need to follow him
.’
    Zak, Raf and Gabs all smiled at Michael’s sudden change of tune.
    ‘
It’s going to