‘Cover me.’
‘He’ll shoot her.’
‘Not if I’m unarmed. I might be able to charm him out of it.’
Mitch swore under his breath. ‘I can’t get a clear line of sight. You’ve got to get her to move away from him.’
‘Copy that.’
Dan dropped his rifle, threw his handgun to one side, and slid down the dune away from Mitch towards the Russian and Anna, slowing his descent as best he could to avoid alarming her assailant further.
He stopped several metres away, dug his boots into the sand to steady himself, and held up his hands, a plume of dust cascading down the dune to where Anna and her captive stood.
‘Let her go.’
In response, the Russian snaked his arm tighter around Anna’s neck.
She whimpered and tried to move her head away, but she was held firm.
Dan avoided the urge to check over his shoulder and see what angle Mitch had on the Russian. By using Anna as a shield, the man was effectively blocking any shot Mitch could possibly take.
The Russian nudged the radio clipped to his collar.
‘Mikhail? Mikhail?’
A hiss of static burst from the device.
‘Mikhail is dead, pal,’ said Mitch, his voice carrying down the dune. ‘Along with the rest of your team.’
‘You lie!’ the Russian spat.
Dan raised an eyebrow. ‘You think we’d be having such a convivial chat if your friends were still firing at us?’ He jerked his thumb over his shoulder. ‘They’d be here by now, wouldn’t they?’
He frowned as he felt movement beneath his feet, closely followed by a faint boom.
‘Drop your weapon!’ yelled Mitch.
A sly smile crossed the Russian’s face, and he pressed the barrel of the gun tighter to Anna’s head.
Dan tried to focus. Something wasn’t right; an almost musical tone filled the air for a split second and then faded.
A frown creased the Russian’s brow, and his grip relaxed on Anna’s arm.
Anna didn’t waste time. She drove her heel into the man’s instep, and he fell away, crying out in pain.
A single crack passed the air next to Dan, and the next moment, the Russian dropped his gun as his hand flew to his arm, blood pouring from the bullet wound.
The Russian’s eyes opened wide as he lifted his chin. His gaze travelled beyond Dan to where Mitch was standing, and his mouth fell open.
Dan could see the fear in the man’s face as his mouth worked soundlessly. He kept his eyes on the Russian, but his mind was racing, even as the man raised his hand and pointed beyond Mitch’s position.
Again, a boom reverberated off the dune, and for a fleeting moment he wondered if the Moroccan air force had scrambled jets nearby and the sonic rush of air was causing the noise.
Then his geologist mind caught up, and his heart lurched at the same time the sand beneath his feet began to slide. He spun round.
‘Avalanche!’ he yelled as he saw the dune begin to collapse behind his teammate. ‘Mitch – get down from there!’
He turned back to Anna. ‘Go!’
He pointed beyond the parked four-wheel drive.
Anna nodded and took off.
Dan pivoted as Mitch tumbled into him, and the pair of them slid to the bottom of the dune, the sound of rushing sand at their heels.
They overtook the Russian who was limping away as fast as he could, and as they caught up with Anna, Mitch reached out and grabbed her arm, pulling her along with them.
They slid to a standstill several metres away and turned as one towards the dune.
The collapse had already reached their vehicle, the weight of the sand tipping it at an unnatural angle, and showed no sign of slowing down.
Beyond the vehicle, the Russian was stumbling, his hand covering the bullet wound to his arm. His escape was hindered by the ankle injury Anna had caused and the fact that he kept looking over his shoulder to check the avalanche’s progress. As he lurched forward once more, he tripped. He cried out, and his eyes found Dan’s.
‘Shit.’
‘Wait – where are you going?’ Mitch yelled.
‘He’s not going to make it,’ Dan called over his shoulder.
‘He’s not worth it!’
Dan ignored him, pumped his arms and raced back across the sand to where the Russian had now stumbled, the man crawling as fast as he could. Despite everything, he couldn’t leave another man to die like this, not after all the lives he’d already taken to keep Anna safe.
The fall of the avalanche had already reached the Russian’s feet and was quickly coating his legs in a fine dust, piling up around him. He desperately clawed at the encroaching sand, trying to pull himself free from the weight that was rapidly burying him alive.
Dan dropped to his knees. ‘Give me your hand.’
The Russian continued to sweep at the sand, and Dan realised if they didn’t move fast, he too would be buried.
He reached out, grabbed the man under his arms, and pulled.
The Russian swore and tried to kick his legs free, but the weight of the sand was too much. He looked up, and Dan saw the panic in his eyes.
Dan pulled again, sweat pouring down his brow with the effort, ignoring the dust that was already covering his feet and swelling against his ankles, but the Russian’s legs remained trapped.
Behind, he could hear Mitch and Anna yelling, and he raised his gaze to the dune they’d run from.
The four-wheel drive was now buried, lost from view, and a second avalanche wave was tearing down the slope towards him.
‘Shit.’
‘Go.’
Dan glanced down.
The Russian was staring at him, his jaw clenched, his eyes resolute.
Dan growled under his breath and lifted his chin to check the avalanche’s progress.
It was too damn close.
His attention jerked back to the Russian as a hand snaked around his calf muscle, and Dan’s eyebrows shot up as he saw the man was holding out a photograph to him, desperation in his eyes.
‘My daughter,’ he gasped. ‘Kozlow will kill her now. You have to stop him. Please, tell her I loved her.’
Dan prised the photograph from the man’s fingers.
In it, the Russian stood with his arms around the shoulders of a gangly teenager, both of them wrapped up warm in ski clothing, smiling for the camera.
He tore his eyes away at the Russian’s next words.
‘Go!’
Dan swallowed and nodded.
He took one last look at the rising cloud of sand, made sure the photograph was tucked safely into his pocket, and then turned and ran.
The bellow of the collapsing dune reached his ears as he forced himself to run faster, Mitch and Anna beckoning him to hurry, their voices lost in the cacophony that surrounded him.
In his mind, he could feel the avalanche licking at his heels, eager to claim him as it surely had the Russian by now. Dan fought down the terror and cursed under his breath.
Mitch and Anna remained where they were, only fifty or so metres away, and Dan checked over his shoulder before slowing to a stop.
He leaned forward and rested his hands on his knees, his eyes flickering over the ground before him sightlessly.
The blue sky had been obliterated, the air around him peppered with the sand that had been lifted with such incredible force from its original location.
Now, an ominous silence blanketed the area. The rumbling from the dunes had ceased, the only sign that anything had happened being a slight settling of the sand around Dan’s feet.
Grit filled his mouth, and he spat to one side and straightened.
Mitch joined him, his arms crossed over his rifle. ‘We’d better check for signs of life, to be sure.’
Dan nodded. ‘We have to wait a few minutes. In case there’s another collapse.’
‘Have you ever seen anything like that before?’
Dan shook his head. ‘Only under controlled conditions.’ A shiver ran down his spine. ‘What a way to bloody go.’
Anna joined them, her breathing ragged.
Dan instinctively placed his arm around her shoulders, and the three of them stood for a moment, staring at the cloud of ochre-coloured dust as it slowly settled to the ground.
‘All right,’ said Dan. He sighed. ‘We’ll check on the Russian, then salvage what we can from the vehicle. We’ll take the Russians’ four-wheel drive from the front of the dune – if it hasn’t been buried as well.’
They walked forward, three abreast, all of them wary of stumbling over the Russian’s body.
Several metres from where they started, Dan found him: a dusty mound rising up from the new plain that had been carved out by the passing sand. The force of the avalanche had pushed the man’s body a long way from where Dan had tried to rescue him.
Now, he crouched and gently rolled the man over, sand falling from the man’s mouth and nostrils. Dan reached out and placed his fingers against the man’s neck, even though he knew it was pointless.
The man had been buried alive, his lungs full of sand, his petrified eyes wide and staring.
Dan fought down the urge to gag and closed the man’s eyes before standing and brushing his hands on his jeans.
Mitch circled the man’s prone form before lowering his weapon and turning to Dan. ‘So much for using your wit and charm.’
Anna reached out for Dan.
He gave her hand a reassuring squeeze.
‘Is he dead?’
‘Yes,’ said Dan. ‘Now we just need to—’
Anna held up her finger to silence him, then turned and jogged a few paces away before being violently sick.
‘Amazing, the effect you have on the ladies,’ murmured Mitch.
‘Piss off.’