The wooden entrance was now covered in flames, and for a moment Porter paused. There was no way through, not without risking setting fire to yourself. Already, Hassad had ripped the shirt from his back. He was using it to beat back the flames, creating a space large enough for a single man. ‘Take her through,’ he shouted. ‘I’ll follow on behind.’

Porter threw himself past Hassad, and towards the staircase. It stretched up for ten steps or so.

Suddenly he heard a scream.

Hassad.

He was shouting something in Arabic.

Porter looked round.

Part of the wall had come away. Hassad was lying flat on the ground, a heavy timber pinning down his leg and his groin. Flames were licking along the wood, getting closer all the time. He tried to lever himself up so that he could push the timber away, but it was no use. He was trapped, and from the look on his face he knew it. Any moment now, he was going to die.

‘Help me,’ he shouted.

Porter rested Katie on the staircase. The flames hadn’t reached this far yet, but sparks were spitting all over the place, and the heat was intense so it might not be long before the steps went up as well. ‘You going to be OK?’

She nodded. ‘I …’

The words ended in another fit of coughing.

‘Just stay right there,’ said Porter. ‘Don’t try to move.’

He turned and ran back towards where Hassad was lying on the ground. The timber wasn’t that heavy – no more than a hundred pounds – but it was hot. More than half of it was alight now, and the sparks were spitting into Hassad’s leg. Porter grabbed it with both hands, and started to heave it away.

Then he paused. He looked straight at Hassad.

‘This is the second time I’ve saved your life,’ he said.

Hassad glanced towards him.

‘This time I want something in return,’ said Porter. ‘You have to help me get Katie out of here, and across the border.’

‘Just release me,’ shouted Hassad.

The flames were getting closer all the time. A couple of sparks spat on his clothes, singeing his skin. Porter could feel his own face burning up, and his cheeks reddening.

He lowered the burning timber just a fraction, so that it was still pinning Hassad down. ‘Give me your word.’

‘I’ll get her to the border, I swear it,’ screamed Hassad.

With a heave of his shoulders, Porter hoisted the timber up into the air, and tossed it clean away from Hassad’s legs. He reached down a hand, and grabbed hold of the man, pulling him up to his feet. ‘Then let’s get the fuck out of here,’ he said. ‘Before the whole bloody place collapses on top of us.’

TWENTY-THREE

Their way was blocked by what looked to Porter like no more than an old and rusty manhole cover. Unhooking the AK-47 still strapped to his back, and flipping the gun around, Porter smashed its butt into the disc, pushing it open. His hands grabbed the sides of the hole and he pulled himself up with one swift movement. He glanced anxiously around to see if anyone could see him, but the way was clear. Instantly, he plunged his hands back into the mine. ‘Grab hold of these,’ he shouted.