Dan peered over the top of his sunglasses, his gaze wandering between the view out his driver’s side window, the front windscreen, and the rear view mirror.
Everywhere he looked, the yellow russet tones of the desert spread before him, cacti and gourd breaking up the desert in sporadic patches for as far as he could see.
Now and then, a collection of large coloured boulders appeared on the horizon, the vehicle passing through the shade they cast as he steered a safe passage across the rough terrain. His geologist mind turned to thoughts of ancient causeways, glacial shifts that had cast the boulders from mountains thousands of miles away.
He frowned and pushed his sunglasses back up his nose, peering past the slumbering form of Anna towards the west, where the sun was rapidly making a run for the horizon.
His eyes flickered over the scenery in front of him as he guided the SUV through a shallow gulley, carved out through time by water before the desert encroached, and then no doubt used as a goat track by passing herdsmen.
He pulled a bottle of water from the cup holder to his left and took a long drink. He calculated how much they’d used over the course of the day and estimated that it’d take another half day’s driving to reach the border. They had plenty of fluids to keep them going, but they were already dehydrating in the exposed environment, notable since neither of them had stopped to go to the toilet in the past four hours.
He put the bottle back and checked his mirrors.
He wondered what Galal was planning. No doubt the man was only a small pawn in a bigger game, but he had local knowledge – and influence.
And Dan had no idea as to how large the group of mercenaries was.
He recalled a news article he’d read over the past few months about Western Sahara. The UN had renewed its resolution to keep a watching brief on the territory and choosing to ignore Morocco’s occupation, to the frustration of the country’s Polisario group who represented the local Sahrawi people.
At the heart of everything was the very real threat from a growing Al Qaeda presence in the northern reaches of the region and corruption within the local army.
Even if any attempt by a mercenary force to tip the geo-political balance failed, it would open up the country to further Al Qaeda influence.
An influence that the rest of the world could ill afford.
Dan reached out and switched the headlights onto a low beam as the light outside began to fade and the last of the sun’s rays spread out across the sky.
His attention taken by the stunning scene, he turned back to the windscreen and shouted in surprise.
He stamped on the brake pedal, the back of the SUV sliding sideways at the sudden deceleration.
Anna jolted forward, straining against her seatbelt at the sudden stop, her head jerking forwards as she was jolted from her sleep.
As the dust settled around the now stationary vehicle, Anna blinked, and then spun in her seat to face him.
‘What happened?’ she demanded, her hair in disarray.
‘That,’ said Dan, and pointed towards the front of the vehicle.
Anna’s eyes followed his hand.
Only a couple of metres from the limit of the vehicle’s headlights, a sign stood sentinel on a lone post, its message in stark red lettering in both Arabic and English.
Danger! Mine Field. Do Not Enter.
Dan felt the tremor begin in his legs and rested his palms on his knees in an effort to disguise his fear.
It had been several years, but the scars still peppered his chest and back, pale jagged stripes that cut swathes across his sun-tanned skin.
He swallowed in an attempt to counteract the dryness of his mouth and tried to ignore the prickle of goose bumps on his forearms.
‘What do we do?’ said Anna.
Dan ran his hand across his mouth.
There was no way in hell he was going to attempt to cross the minefield – it would be suicide.
Somehow, he had to find another way to cross the border into Morocco.
He checked his watch.
It was over eight hours since they’d left the city, and it would be dark soon.
He shoved the SUV’s transmission into reverse and yanked the steering wheel to a hard right.
‘We’ll keep as far away from this boundary as we can,’ he said. ‘The sun’s going to go down within the hour. It’ll be too dangerous to drive by then – we could wander into the minefield by accident.’
Anna turned in her seat to face him. ‘They’ll be following us by now, won’t they?’
Dan nodded. ‘I expect so. It’s still too dangerous to carry on, though.’ He hit the brakes. ‘Let’s see if anyone’s within sight.’
He grabbed the binoculars and opened his door, stepping out onto the running board and turning towards the way they had travelled.
The flat terrain spread out behind them, affording Dan an uninterrupted view.
Nothing moved.
He lowered the binoculars, his mind racing, and then turned and raised them once more, in the direction the vehicle pointed.
He adjusted the focus.
‘That might do,’ he murmured.
‘What?’
He passed the binoculars to Anna and pointed to his one o’clock position. ‘That looks like a low rock ledge,’ he said. ‘We might be able to get the vehicle under it. Try to get our heads down for a few hours.’
***
Dan pulled the black material around his shoulders and stared out over the sandy expanse towards the mine field.
A shiver wracked his body as old memories surfaced, of improvised explosive devices planted within footsteps of main pedestrian thoroughfares, designed to maim and kill with as much destruction as possible.
He clenched his fist, bunching the material between his fingers as his jaw tightened, the old demons threatening to surface. He tried to concentrate instead on taking his bearings from the stars, thankful that he’d kept up his navigation skills during the time he’d spent on the boat rather than constantly relying on GPS.
‘Dan?’
He jumped, his right hand falling to the Glock at his hip, before he shook his head and forced himself to focus.
Anna stood over him, concern etched across her features in the pale moonlight.
‘The nightmares are back, aren’t they?’
Dan exhaled. ‘I’m okay.’
Anna lowered herself until she was sitting beside him. ‘No. You’re not.’
‘It’s just the minefield. It brought back memories.’
‘I thought it had,’ she said. She reached out and squeezed his shoulder. ‘You haven’t been the same since you saw the sign.’
She moved closer, until she could wrap her arm around him, and rested her head on his shoulder.
Dan shifted and rubbed his cheek on her hair. ‘I didn’t think you’d remember about the nightmares.’
She sniffed. ‘I was scared at first,’ she said, ‘when you came to stay with us. You towered over me. You were – are – so imposing. But, at night...’ She lifted her head so her eyes met his. ‘You cried out, like you were still in so much pain.’
‘Shh,’ said Dan. He traced his fingers over her hair until she lowered her gaze and rested against his shoulder once more.
He knew she meant well, but now wasn’t the time to start psychoanalysing his memories.
He had to stay focused, protect Anna, and get them both through whatever faced them the following day.
‘I’m okay,’ he said. ‘We can do this.’