Sharp Shot Read Free Page A

hand.
“Yes, that should do it. I’ll go first.”
    â€œWhat are you going to do?” Darrow asked.
    â€œBung rocks at it. Ready?”
    They could see at once what McCain meant when he tossed the egg-sized
stone. He lobbed it up on to higher section of wall. The stone rattled
down the wall, bouncing on to the stones holding the camera steady.
    â€œMissed,” said McCain. “Who’s going next?”
    The third pebble did it. Halford arced it into the air above the wall
just as first McCain and then Darrow had done. The pebble rattled down,
and this time struck the small stone on the shutter button. The weight of
the impact was enough to take the picture.
    â€œNice one, Ferdy,” said Chance as they all watchedhim
retrieve the camera and wind on the film. “Now then, let’s see what
Mark’s got in his backpack, shall we?”
    Reluctantly, Darrow opened his rucksack and lifted out his
‘souvenir’. It was a statue made from a dark brown material, like
terracotta, about half a metre tall and maybe fifteen centimetres wide. It
was in the shape of a lion standing upright on its back legs, and it was
obviously old; the features and details had worn away, the material
scuffed and scratched and flaking. Chance remembered that one of the
scientists had been carrying it—he must have run into Darrow soon after.
    â€œBlimey, it’s heavy,” McCain commented, lifting it up to
get a better look. “What d’you want this for?”
    â€œIt just took my fancy.” Darrow lifted the statue
carefully out of McCain’s hands and pushed it back into his rucksack.
“No big deal.”
    â€œReckon it’s valuable?” Halford asked.
    â€œI’ll let you know.”
    Chance was looking grim. “You shouldn’t have taken it,”
he said. “We didn’t come here to steal artefacts, whether they’re
valuable or not.”
    â€œOh come on, John,” said Darrow, suddenly angry.
“We were going to blow it up. I found it in the adminblock when I
was planting the explosives. It just seemed a shame to destroy it. So
where’s the harm? I mean, they’re not going to come and ask for it back,
are they?”
    â€œActually,” said Halford, “I think they
might.” He pointed across the mass of broken buildings and
collapsed walls.
    Two small black shapes were streaking rapidly towards them across the
sky. As they watched, one of the black shapes flashed, as if it had caught
the sun.
    â€œIncoming!” yelled McCain.
    Moments later, a building just thirty metres away exploded in a
fireball. Heavy machine gun fire strafed across the sandy ground.
    The four men hurled themselves into the cover of the wall. There was
another explosion, even closer. A wall exploded under the impact of the
rocket, stone and debris flying through the air. Darrow gave a cry as a
lump of rock struck him across the side of the head, hurling him sideways.
    Then as suddenly as it had started, the attack stopped. The two
aircraft sped onwards, into the distance.
    â€œSoon as they turn, they’ll be back,” said Halford.
    Chance was beside the prone body of Darrow. “Out cold. He’s
losing blood, and I think his collar bone’s broken. We have to get him to
the Jeep.”
    â€œThat could be a problem,” said McCain, kneeling beside
them. He pointed across to the burning remains of the building that had
taken the first rocket hit. “That’s the Jeep. Maybe they saw its
heat signature.”
    â€œThen we have to walk. We’ll take it in turns to carry Mark. We
move out as soon as it’s safe.”
    â€œAnd when will that be?”
    â€œThe planes aren’t turning,” Halford reported, joining
them. “I reckon the Foxbat wasn’t sure he’d seen anything, and they
were just making sure, maybe trying to flush us out if we were here. They
fired at anything showing up on the infra red