“Oh, great,” Luke said. “The compound is on fire.”

“Looks like somebody got here first,” Ed said.

The first two choppers touched down on the far edge of the compound, away from the river. The rotor blades kicked up minor dust storms. Luke, Ed, and the SAS clambered out.

They walked toward the center of the compound, rifles drawn.

Behind them, the helicopters pulled away.

The scene was apocalyptic. The main house, a sprawling twenty-room monstrosity, and two smaller outbuildings were burning. A cluster of large trees planted near the river were on fire, their flaming arms reaching toward heaven.

A tall, corrugated building which must have been a garage—there were several cars parked outside of it—was also on fire. That’s where the dark black smoke was coming from. To the far right, the fields were on fire. The buildings and the trees could have been hit with mortars, but the fields must have been deliberately set, possibly with flamethrowers.

Near the gate to the road, a couple of large horses, brown and white Arabian chargers, stood together. They stamped their feet and their tails swung anxiously. At least the horses had been spared.

About a hundred chickens ran back and forth on the grounds. The sky above the compound was turning dark with circling vultures and birds of prey. Every few moments, a hawk would drop to earth, snatch a frantic chicken, and fly off with it.

Straight ahead, the corpse of a woman lay on the ground in a pool of blood, her white robes stained red.

Several more human bodies were scattered around, apparently shot while they ran.

A water tower had crashed over sideways, its tank ruptured.

A grain storehouse had been left intact. Also, a long chicken house was still standing, along with a barn. Luke glanced inside the barn. A few cattle lay on their sides, shot dead. Whoever liked horses didn’t feel the same way about cows.

“Someone is a step ahead of us,” Ed Newsam said.

Luke caught a flash of movement out of the corner of his left eye. He turned that way, MP5 already raised. He wasn’t the only one. Two of the SAS guys had done the same. At high speed, Luke replayed the moment in his mind: someone in dark clothes and with dark hair had just dashed inside the chicken coop.

He and the men were moving quickly toward the long building, guns out.