‘Let ’em try,’ Loader said with a snort. ‘They haven’t got a clue when it comes to tactics. We could slot these jokers in our sleep.’

‘Everyone OK down there?’ Mallet asked over the radio.

Three OKs came back. First Casey, then Gregory, then Mavinda. Mallet briefly updated the major on the situation at the front of the stronghold. The brief skirmish with the Machete Boys. Their ragged retreat into the woods. Everyone seemed confident. No one was panicking. They had just given the enemy a licking without taking casualties of their own. And they had a stack of ammunition left to expend. Bowman rubbed his aching, tired eyes and looked down at his G-Shock: 00.44. More than two hours until D Squadron was due to land at the private airfield.

Mallet was squinting at his damaged phone screen.

‘Anything from Six?’ Loader said.

‘No news,’ Mallet said back. ‘The airfield is still clear. D Squadron’s still due to arrive at eight o’clock.’

‘Any reports of KUF rebels in the area?’ Bowman asked.

‘Not as far as we know.’

Webb looked at him with a serious expression. ‘Do you think they might come here?’

Bowman shrugged. ‘Mike told us the KUF and the Machete Boys are allies. The Boys are bound to alert General Kakuba. For all we know, his men might be on their way already.’

Mallet tore off a piece of bread, popped it into his mouth. ‘If those guys were nearby,’ he said. ‘We’d know about it. Six would have sounded the alarm.’

Webb gazed out across the treeline, eyes narrowed, searching for any sign of movement among the shadows.

‘How long until the Boys come at us again, do you think?’ he said.

‘Half an hour,’ Mallet said. ‘Maybe a little longer. They’ll probably wait for their mates to turn up before they have another crack at us.’

‘Bastards will want to get some booze in their system and all,’ Loader chipped in. ‘We’ve just given them a serious fright. They’ll need some Dutch courage to get over it.’

Bowman looked from the abandoned technical to the stone archway at the front of the estate. A thought slowly taking shape.

‘We should block that archway with that technical. Seal off the estate from the approach road. Stop any vehicles from getting through.’

‘How?’ asked Loader.

‘We can use one of those Land Rovers we saw parked out front.’ Bowman pointed to the entrance. ‘Hook the winch around the technical and drag it over. That would make a decent barrier.’

‘Good idea,’ Mallet said. ‘Go down there and sort it out.’

‘I’ll need some help.’

‘Get a few of the major’s men to lend a hand. We’ll stay on the rooftop and watch for enemy movement. If we see anything, we’ll let you know. And make it quick. Those fuckers will be back soon enough.’

*