Ghost Flight Read Free Page B

Raff made their way towards the beach, threading through the cover of the thickest groves of palm trees. The fewer people who saw them make their getaway, the fewer who were likely to suffer any reprisals.
    It was Raff who broke the silence. He could tell how much it pained his friend to abandon his young charges.
    ‘Insh’Allah?’ he queried. ‘The villagers round here – they’re Muslim?’
    ‘They are. And you know what – these people, they’re some of the best-hearted I ever met.’
    Raff eyed him. ‘Three years alone on Bioko Island, and bugger me if the mighty Jaeger-bomb has gone soft.’
    Jaeger flashed his friend a wry smile. Maybe Raff was right. Maybe he had.
    They were approaching the pristine white sands of the beach when a figure ran up beside them, panting breathlessly. Barefooted, bare-chested, and dressed only in a pair of raggedy shorts, he looked to be no more than eight years old. The expression on his face was one of panic approaching terror.
    ‘Sir, sir!’ He grabbed Jaeger’s hand. ‘They are coming. President Chambara’s men. My father – someone radioed through a warning. They are coming! To find you! To take you back!’
    Jaeger crouched down until he was at the boy’s eye level. ‘Little Mo, listen: no one’s taking me back.’ He slipped off the fake Oakleys and pressed them into the kid’s hand. He ruffled the boy’s dusty, child-wiry hair. ‘Let’s see them on, then,’ he prompted.
    Little Mo slid the sunglasses over his eyes. They were so large that he had to hold them in place.
    Jaeger grinned. ‘Dude! You look awesome! But keep them hidden – at least until Chambara’s men are gone.’ A pause. ‘Now, run. Get back to your father. Stay inside. And Mo, tell him from me – thanks for the warning.’
    The kid gave Jaeger one last hug, full of reluctance at their parting, before he scuttled off, tears pricking his eyes.
    Jaeger and Raff melted into the cover of the nearby bush. They crouched low, whisper-distance close, Jaeger grabbing Raff’s wrist so as to do a quick time check.
    ‘Around two hours to last light,’ he murmured. ‘Two options . . . One, we make a break for it right now, in broad daylight. Two, we hide up and sneak away come nightfall. From what I know of Chambara, he’ll get his fast patrol boats out scouring the ocean, in addition to whatever force he’s sending direct to the village. It’s no more than forty minutes by boat from Malabo: we’ll barely have hit the water before they’re on top of us. Which means . . . no choice: we wait for nightfall.’
    Raff nodded. ‘Mate, you’ve been here three years. You got the local knowledge. But we need a hiding place where no one will ever think to look for us.’
    His eyes scanned their surroundings, coming to rest upon the dark and brooding vegetation lying at the far end of the beach. ‘Mangrove swamp. Snakes, crocs, mosquitoes, scorpions, leeches and waist-deep shitty mud. Last place anyone sane would ever want to hide.’
    Raff delved deep in his pocket, pulling out a distinctive-looking knife. He handed it to Jaeger. ‘Keep it handy, just in case.’
    Jaeger slipped it open and felt across the five-inch semi-serrated blade, testing it for keenness. ‘This another fake?’
    Raff scowled. ‘With weaponry, I don’t cut corners.’
    ‘So, Chambara’s men are on their way,’ Jaeger mused, ‘no doubt to drag us back to Black Beach. And we’ve got one blade between us . . .’
    Raff pulled out a second, identical knife. ‘Trust me, even getting these through Bioko airport was a miracle.’
    Jaeger gave a bleak smile. ‘Okay, one blade each: we’re unstoppable.’
    The two men flitted through the palm grove towards the distant swampland.
    From the outside, the maze of wild, tangled roots and branches looked impenetrable. Undeterred, Raff dropped to a belly-crawl and squirmed his way ahead, slipping through impossible gaps, unseen creatures slithering out of his way. He didn’t