Lubowa shook his hand limply. ‘You’re lucky my men didn’t kill you, Mr Mallet. They saw your headlights approaching and thought you might be the Machete Boys.’

‘Are they in the area?’ said Bowman.

‘Not yet. But they will be, soon enough. We’ve heard reports of fighting in the nearest big town. Farangi. Thirty miles from here.’

‘Closer than we thought,’ Loader muttered.

Colonel Lubowa regarded the new arrivals. A look of disappointment crossed his face.

‘Is this all of you?’ he asked.

‘This is everyone,’ Mallet said.

Lubowa shrugged. ‘Then I suppose it will have to do.’

‘Where’s the family, Colonel?’

‘Inside. Mr Gregory is guarding them.’

The two Karatandan officers shared a meaningful look. Bowman thought he saw a nervous expression edging across Mavinda’s face. He wondered about that.

‘Are they OK?’ Mallet asked.

‘Mr Seguma’s family is safe. A few of them have minor injuries, cuts and bruises, but nothing serious.’

‘When did you get here?’

‘Two hours ago,’ Colonel Lubowa replied. ‘About two o’clock.’

‘How many guys have you got guarding this place?’ said Loader.

‘Four. These two men, the two on the gate. And Mr Gregory, of course.’

‘No one else escaped the palace?’

‘No.’

Mallet said, ‘We’d better go and brief Mike.’ He half turned to Mavinda. ‘Tell your men to start unloading their kit. Check their weapons too. Make sure they’re ready for a scrap.’

He spoke to the major in a stern tone. Establishing authority. We’re in charge now. This is what we do. Mavinda didn’t argue. He just nodded at his subordinates. Toothbrush, Lanky and Pockmark marched over to the Unimog, bellowing orders at the squaddies.

‘Follow me,’ Lubowa said.

He led the Cell team and the major towards the entrance. Bowman wearily brought up the rear with Loader, a tight feeling in his chest as he glanced round the estate.

‘Better hope those reinforcements aren’t running late,’ he murmured.

Loader glanced at his mucker. ‘Don’t tell me you’re getting twitchy about a few junkie scavengers who can’t shoot properly. We’ve handled tougher enemies than that in the Regiment.’

Bowman shook his head. ‘It’s not that.’

He swept a hand across the estate.

‘Look around you, mate. There’s a lot of dead ground here,’ he added. ‘Those ditches, the depressions. Plenty of cover for the enemy to hide.’

‘I don’t think the Machete Boys will understand the principle of using dead ground to advance, Josh. They’re a bunch of junkie scavengers.’

‘Maybe not them,’ Bowman admitted. ‘But any decent rebel force that’s switched on will know what to do. They could use that cover to get right in among us. And if that happens, we’re in fucking trouble.’

Twenty-Five

Twenty-Five