Sword of Allah by David Rollins Read Free Book Online Page B

falling around the intricate dual lenses. ‘Okay. I’ll try and explain these to Muruk. Can I borrow this set?’ he asked.
    ‘You hang on to that pair, I’ve got a spare. And Ellis has an extra set for Muruk.’
    It was late afternoon and the night would come down fast. Sergeant Wilkes figured they’d get about thirtyminutes of twilight before complete darkness settled in. ‘Okay,’ he said to Ellis, Beck and Littlemore. ‘Let’s have some scoff. We’ll get this show on the road in about…’ he checked his watch, ‘forty-five minutes. Cache the gear here. Don’t worry about burying it,just secure it. Take only what you need: weapons, water, NVGs.’
    ‘Roger that, boss,’ said Ellis, Littlemore and Beck nodding.
    Wilkes marked their position on his hand-held GPS.
    Half an hour later, fifteen minutes ahead of time, the troop was silently on the move. Muruk had adapted quickly to the NVGs, curiosity overcoming his initial fear, the technology totally beyond anything he’d ever experienced or imagined. They used the painting mode because there was barely enough light under the canopy to accentuate. Wilkes had been right. It was a black night. To be on the safe side, they would switch modes just before reaching the village.
    After they’d walked for about forty minutes, Muruk pulled up and whispered to Timbu quietly.
    ‘The jungle ends ten paces that way,’ said Timbu, keeping his voice low and pointing off to his left. ‘Muruk says we should circle around the village and come at it downwind. He says these people are renowned hunters and he doesn’t want to give them the opportunity of picking up our scent.’
    Wilkes nodded, appreciating the boy’s caution. ‘I want to get as close to the village centre as possible.’
    Timbu spoke quietly to Muruk.
    ‘No problem. He says he knows this village well. He and a few of his brothers and cousins used to dare each otherto come here – a test of bravery. Says he once walked right through it, from one end to the other; in broad daylight, no less.’
    ‘Ask the kid if he wants a job,’ said Wilkes. ‘Okay, the deal is this. I don’t want you or Muruk put at unnecessary risk. Stay back beyond the treeline. If you hear shouts and gunfire, you leave. No waiting around. Get back to the cached gear. If you need them, inside the front of my pack you’ll find two hand grenades. They’re no bigger than small Christmas decorations, but they’re not nearly as friendly. Hold the trigger, pull the pin, then throw. Trigger, pin, throw. You got that?’
    Timbu nodded and took a few deep breaths, suddenly realising how serious things were.
    ‘Once you let the trigger go, you’ve got four seconds before the thing blows. Make sure it doesn’t hit a tree and bounce back at you. A hand grenade will stop a charging rhino and anyone following you will have second thoughts about the wisdom of staying on your tail.
    ‘And fuck-knuckles,’ he said, turning to his men, ‘remember we’re here to take nice, friendly pictures, not wage war. Keep your trigger fingers holstered unless things go to shit.’
    The SAS men nodded. ‘Pictures, not war. And keep our fingers in Trigger’s shit. Right?’ said Littlemore.
    Wilkes punched the trooper in the arm playfully. Doing stuff like this was an adrenalin rush, and Sergeant Wilkes’s men enjoyed the ride.
    ‘Okay, let’s turn these things off now and go with the available,’ Wilkes said. The soldiers turned their light sources off. Wilkes hit the switches on Timbu and Muruk’sdevices. Wilkes glanced in the direction of the glow indicating the village’s presence through a wall of jungle. These things really were magical, he thought, wondering how fighting forces ever got by without them.
    Muruk took the lead once more, silently picking his way around the edge of the treeline for ten minutes before sitting back behind a giant hardwood. He gestured towards the village. Wilkes followed the direction of the lad’s eyes. There,