'What about you, Ben?'

'I'm going to have to take my chances. Ready?'

'Ready.'

'One, two, three.' Ben slammed the accelerator down and headed straight for the men in front of him. But rather than scramble, as he had expected them to, they stood their ground. They aimed their AK-47s at the Land Rover, some of them pointing at the wheels, others at the windscreen.

And then they fired.

The windscreen turned opaque on the first impact of the bullets, blinding Ben's view momentarily before the glass shattered all over him. But even if he had been able to see properly, it wouldn't have done any good, because the two front tyres had been ripped apart by the bullets. Ben felt the vehicle veer dangerously, and even if he hadn't felt the need to duck away from the next onslaught of enemy fire, he would not have been able to keep the Land Rover under control. It swerved to the side of the road and came to a thumping and devastating stop as it smashed into a tree.

Within seconds, the men were upon them, dragging Ben and Halima roughly from the front seats and hurling them onto the ground in front of Suliman.

Ben looked up at his nemesis. There was a band of sweat beads forming on his upper lip and he looked immensely pleased with himself. He bent down and whispered, his mouth so close to Ben's ear that he could feel the sticky hotness of his breath. 'You have caused me much trouble, Ben Tracey,' he said.

Ben turned his face so that he was looking straight into Suliman's eyes. 'You're not going to get away with this.'

'Of course I am, you idiot. You two will be dead in less than a minute. Your fool of a father no doubt already is. And I hope you don't think that that peasant Abele will help you – last time I saw him, he was dying in ditch on the side of the road. You should have stayed in England, instead of trying to interfere with things you do not understand.'

Halima spoke. 'It's you who don't understand-'

'Silence!' Suliman said sharply. 'You are the most foolish of all, getting involved with these white men.'

He stood up and took a few steps back.

'The last time I ordered your execution,' he said, 'you were very lucky to get away. This time…' He shook his head meaningfully, then nodded at another of his men.

He approached with his rifle.

Ben started to shake as blind fear grabbed hold of him; he felt icy cold, as though all the strength that remained in his body had suddenly ebbed away, and he could tell that Halima was experiencing the same thing. He had to do something. Say something. Persuade Suliman that he was doing the wrong thing. But his mind wouldn't think straight, and in his dreadful state of panic there seemed to be an incessant buzzing in his ears that would not allow him to concentrate.

'What about the ancestors?' he heard himself shouting to Suliman, but his captor didn't seem moved by the threat.

The buzzing in Ben's ears grew louder; it was only with difficulty that he heard Suliman's next order. 'Kill them,' he shouted.

Suliman's man stepped towards them, rifle in his hand. His face was fixed into an unpleasant grin and he waved the gun between Ben and Halima as though teasing them with the threat of his imminent violence. The two of them stepped backwards towards the side of the road, Ben holding Halima steady as he could tell that her injured leg was making it difficult to walk, trying to get into the shelter of the forest but unwilling to turn their backs on this grinning assassin. Out of the corner of his eye, Ben could see Suliman cast his head over his shoulder nervously, as though he was aware of something approaching and wanted his business over and done with so he could get out of there. 'Do it!' he screamed.

The man raised his gun and aimed it at Ben's head. He was about ten metres away, and his trigger finger was twitching. As they stepped backwards again, Ben and Halima tripped over a branch and fell heavily to the ground. The assassin's smile grew broader. He lowered his aim and took another step forward towards the side of the road.

Nobody heard the click of the hidden landmine as he trod on it; but the explosion was so loud that for one deathly moment Ben thought he had been shot. The devastating effect of the landmine on the assassin soon put that thought from his mind. He was thrown two metres in the air and landed awkwardly in a scrambled heap somewhere between the exploded landmine and where Ben and Halima were sitting. The leg that had stepped onto the firing mechanism appeared to have been splintered in two along its length and blood was pouring out of the wound. His other limbs were gnarled and disjointed from the way he had fallen and his face was covered in blood and dirt. For a few horrible seconds his body twitched in the dust and then it lay still.

Everyone around looked at the dead man in shock; when he managed to snap out of it, Ben fully expected Suliman to order another of his men to kill them, and he prepared to lift Halima from the ground and run. But Suliman's attention had been diverted: he was looking all around and up into the sky, clearly worried, and Ben realized that the buzzing sound had not just been in his ears – everyone could hear it, and it was getting louder. It was more of a roar now, and all the guards – including the one Suliman had instructed to shoot them – were looking up to the sky.

Then they saw them.

Hovering into view above the trees came two khakicoloured Chinook helicopters. Their double rotary blades whipped up a deafening roar and caused the branches of the trees to blow back as if they were in the path of a gale. Ben felt the hair on his head being blown around, but his attention was fixed on Suliman and his men. They were staggering backwards, buffeted by the winds and looking scared and confused. They were not going to be carrying out Suliman's order. Not yet.

And then there was a voice, coming out over a loudspeaker from one of the Chinooks. It spoke in French first. 'Ici la force de maintien de la paix de l'ONU. Déposez vos armes. Je répète, déposez vos armes.'

Ben looked desperately around him, unable to understand what was going on. And then he almost crumpled with relief as the voice spoke in English.

'This is the United Nations peacekeeping force,' it called. 'Throw down your weapons. I repeat, throw down your weapons.'

CHAPTER TWENTY-ONE

Suddenly there was confusion all around. The choppers manoeuvred themselves so that everyone was closed in and unable to escape either way down the road, and as they hovered, trap doors opened in the bottom and ropes dangled down. Almost before Ben knew what was happening, he saw figures in protective white suits being winched down. They looked terrifying, their faces masked with complicated breathing apparatus and their bodies encased in sealed clothing – like something out of a science-fiction movie, Ben thought. They carried guns, too, and as soon as they were on the ground they started rounding everybody up, indiscriminately, pointing their weapons in such a way that made it quite clear they would not hesitate to use them.

'What is happening?' Halima screamed desperately over the noise of the Chinooks' propellers.

'I don't know,' Ben shouted back.

Suliman was shouting too, barking instructions at his men that Ben couldn't make out; but the sight of the peacekeepers had thrown them into a frenzy of panic, and they were at that very moment throwing down their weapons. When Suliman realized what was happening, however, his eyes narrowed and he quietened down.

Whenever Ben tried to remember what took place next, he always found himself confused by a jumble of memories. He saw Suliman talking earnestly to one of the masked men, while the Chinooks landed in the road and the faceless, uniformed men ordered them all – in voices that sounded strangely robotic through the breathing apparatus – to make their way into the choppers.