Karen said nothing more, just pulled the ammunition belt across her shoulder and tightened the strap holding the handgun round her waist. Then she slipped the rucksack on and grabbed the machine-gun. Slamming the car door she walked away, only turning to give Martha a final wave, before setting off down the track.
Martha had watched as she'd readied herself, tears coming to her eyes. How often her man had done the same. Karen could have been him at that moment. A soldier ready for action, rather than a young girl just trying to get home, but unlike her man, who one day never returned, Martha knew Karen would return home. She'd the determination like her husband first had. However, Martha had a strange feeling this would not be the last she saw of this girl. Why? She didn't know, just a feeling.
The walk down the track wasn't, as Martha had suggested, too hard. For Karen, her only real concern was her vulnerability. It was narrow but not narrow enough not to take a vehicle. In fact she could see the tracks close to either side that showed, in the past, a vehicle had been down. But odd areas where rain must have washed the tracks away also told her the tracks were not recent. However, about half a mile from the end of the track she stopped and looked carefully around. Somehow she felt she still needed to hide, yet be close enough to see any small boat arrive in the cove. The track at this point was very narrow, to one side completely sheer to the rocks below. The other side was steep with a few thick shrubs clinging precariously to the side. Further along the track it opened wide enough to allow a vehicle to turn. Beyond this turning circle it was only a footpath falling steeply down to the cove. Karen decided this was where she would wait, hiding in the shrubs to one side. In this position she could see anyone or anything coming down the track, besides having a reasonable view of the cove.
***
Time went on and for the twentieth time she glanced at her watch. It was coming up to seven fifteen, less than an hour and she'd be leaving this place forever. It would be a country she wouldn't miss; besides the S.A.S., the only person to help her was Martha, and probably because she was English and understood. The rest... it wasn't worth thinking about. At that moment Karen held her breath. There was the distinct sound of a labouring vehicle engine, as it worked itself slowly down the track. Her heart sank. No boat would come if they were here. Now she was trapped with no way out, they had her this time, she was certain. This must have been Sirec's plan to trick her into believing she'd escaped, when all the time they just had to wait until she came to them. She looked up at the track; it would be ten or twelve minutes before they'd be here. A small but desperate plan was forming in her mind. The risk was enormous if it went wrong, she'd have no escape and nowhere to run. All that was left then, would be to put the gun to her head.
Finally deciding to take the risk, she first checked her handgun, this was her final solution and it must work. Then she walked back up the track to just before the turning circle where it was narrow with a sheer drop to one side and looked over the edge. Going over to the opposite side of the narrow track, she crouched low behind a shrub. In this position the driver, or even a passenger in the vehicle, wouldn't see her, only as they passed would she be in view. She then unclipped two hand grenades from her belt, placing them carefully on the ground in front with her machine-gun. Now she waited, the noise of the truck becoming louder every second. Karen took the two grenades from the ground, holding them firmly. She began to shake in fear, involuntarily holding her breath as the truck went slowly past only feet away from her. Clutching the two grenades, she pulled the pins with her teeth, counting under her breath.
By now the truck had passed and she jumped down onto the road, running towards it before throwing the two grenades into the open rear of the vehicle. Not waiting to see the result, she ran back to the shrub and grabbed her gun, falling flat on the ground, waiting for the explosion. She could hear shouts and screaming as, whoever was in the back, realised what she had thrown. All these actions were measured in seconds before the two grenades exploded.
The truck lurched from side to side on the narrow track; a front door burst open just before the truck lost its tenuous grip on the track and plunged as if in slow motion off the edge, down to the rocks below. Karen lay there for a moment before looking up. The truck was gone and there was complete silence until a sudden explosion. Then nothing.
She stood and walked to the edge, looking tentatively over at the mangled remains below. Then she heard a noise and swung round, gripping the gun she held even tighter. A soldier dressed as an officer, who must have either jumped or been thrown out of the truck, was standing further down the track brushing himself down with his hands. For some reason he'd not seen Karen until the moment when he heard the click of the safety going off. Khan stood there looking at her. Karen was also standing watching him.
He gave a sickly grin. "So you must be the famous Karen Marshall, then? My name's Khan."
"What's it to you? Anyway you're in my way. I want to go down that path," she responded.
He looked her up and down. She was taller than he'd imagined, attractive in a European way, but not the type of girl he'd fancy. He could understand Sirec wanting her and he could also understand why they'd not found her. She was clean, even her hair was combed. Someone had helped her all along, probably hidden her until now. He also understood why the other soldiers, both around eighteen, had not heeded their captain's orders on how dangerous this young girl stood in front of him was. She portrayed weakness, femininity and naivety. Even her get-up of sporting an ammunition belt and holding a gun was as if a photographer had set her up for a photo shoot. However, Khan was not that naive, and the girl who stood in front of him was not weak, he'd no doubts about that in any way. He was all too aware of her capability and just how dangerous she really was. Even now, to have taken a truck on alone without knowing what was inside, was either sheer stupidity, or a very brave and calculated action. This girl, he knew, was not stupid.
He glanced at his watch. "You're not due out for another hour or so at least, so why don't we talk? After all, I've been looking for you for some time now and you've been very elusive. I must congratulate you though. I don't have a man in my command who'd have taken on a truck full of troops. That would be worth a Victoria Cross if it happened in a war."
He made to put his hand in his pocket, but Karen raised her gun. "Don't think about it, you'll be dead before your hand touches whatever's in there," she said curtly.
He laughed. "Only a cigarette, just a cigarette. Do you object even to that?"
She said nothing but allowed him to pull the case out very slowly. Then he opened it, showing her the contents, before putting one in his mouth. "I don't suppose?" he asked, offering her the case. She shook her head and Khan lit the cigarette slowly. "So, Karen Marshall, where do we go from here? Or is it your intention to kill me?"
His question was for her, a problem. Where did she go from here? "Do you want me to kill you?" she asked.
He shrugged. "Of course not, but you're renowned for killing, aren't you?"
"I've killed no one who hasn't attacked me first, every time has been self-defence," Karen retorted.
Khan laughed. "I suppose Assam's friends tried to shoot you, did they, or the farmer in the field? Then there's the two conscripts, one dead and the other in hospital?"
Karen cut in. "One of those conscripts tried to kill me," she pulled her jumper up a little to reveal the knife wound. "What do you think this is, Scotch mist? So don't give me the '
holier-than-thou'
bit. I'd have been happy just to let them go, I'd no argument with them," she protested.
Khan noticed she'd avoided Assam’s friends and the farmer but he'd another card to play. "What of your own people who came to save you? Did you need to kill them, as well?"
Her face changed, a look of surprise written all over it. "I don't know what you're talking about, who's dead?"
Khan grinned. "Why, Karen, the S.A.S. officers who were going home tonight on the same ship you're waiting for. They were in the back of the truck you sent to the bottom of the ocean."
Her eyes narrowed. "You're lying, trying to get me to panic or something, but it won't wash. That was full of your men. They'd come for me. Perhaps to kill me or take me to Sirec?"
"No, Karen, we'd not come to get you, but send home the people who came to help you. They're all dead on the rocks below, but that's your way, isn't it, shoot before you think. You're really just a killer out of control. Even you can't claim self-defence anymore. I suppose if the truth was known, you enjoy it… Enjoy seeing people die."
Karen stood there confused, this man couldn't be right, could he? However, the long walk down here, then the attack on the truck and now having to stand and talk, had tired her. The wound in her side was beginning to give her pain again, her head, although aching before, had become worse in the last few minutes. Then with the effort of keeping concentration on a prisoner, who'd kill her if she wavered, she was fast losing her grip on the situation.
Khan, on his side, could see her becoming more confused, not realising it wasn't the conversation that was doing this, but her injuries, so he persisted in his interrogation. "I was surprised the people who've harboured you all these days didn't mention we'd given up and decided to let you go?"
"What are you talking about?" she asked.
Khan puffed on his cigarette. "Well someone must have helped you otherwise you'd not have avoided us for so long. So who was it then?" he asked.
Karen frowned. "Nobody helped me, even though, if anyone had, it's nothing to do with you. Besides, I'm perfectly capable of looking after myself without risking help from your race."
"I suppose you washed in a stream last night? Cleaned your clothes and lay in the sun while they dried? Come off it, Karen, even I'm not stupid enough to believe nobody helped you."
She laughed, but wanted to discourage any possible link with Martha. "Well that's where you're wrong. I did get here by myself, except last night I was lucky enough to find a house, the occupants were away. So I washed, found some spare clothes in a drawer and made my way here. Simple when you know how," she said haughtily.
"Think a lot of yourself, don't you?"
"Why shouldn't I? After all, I'm told I'm attractive and men want me, well my body at least, so why should I care what you think?" she retorted.
Khan sighed to himself. The girl was right, people did want her. But why was it only he could see a born killer stood opposite and others saw just an attractive young girl to have some fun with?
Karen glanced at her watch; she needed to make her way down to the beach. "It's time I was out of here so if you please, I'd like you to remove all your clothes."
Khan's face suddenly lit up. "Why, Karen, do you think we have the time? I'm flattered Sirec's girl would want me," he teased.
Her features changed. "I'm nobody's girl, as many of your countrymen have found out to their cost. Even Sirec will find this out, if I ever meet him. Anyway, I've been caught once with a hidden weapon from one of your lot and I've no intention of falling for that again, so take your bloody clothes off or die. It's of no interest to me either way, except dead you're no threat," she replied curtly.
Khan looked at her for a moment, then began to remove his clothes. She was clever this girl, she'd no idea if he had a knife or gun hidden. This would tell her instantly. Soon, stood in his pants, he looked at her. "So what do I do now?"
"The pants as well. Then you can start down the track."
He stood his ground, indignant at her demand. "I've got no hidden arms, Karen. The pants stay; I'll not remove my pants in front of a young kid."
She grinned at his embarrassment. "You know, I've had the same problem."
"What are you talking about?"
Karen laughed. "Well nearly every person I've met recently kept demanding I took all my clothes off, particularly my pants. Mind you, I only did it to avoid a beating; you're to do it on pain of death. So drop the pants or die. You've got nothing I've not seen before you know. I've even felt them forced inside me. So don't come with your objections. Exposing your sexual organ will not have an effect on me; but I'll try not to laugh."
He did as she asked before walking down the path, Karen followed at a distance. However, what looked a short walk wasn't, and it took a lot out of her, just to keep going. Finally they arrived in the cove and she leaned heavily against a large rock, breathless, her head spinning, now unable to concentrate properly.
Khan looked at her for a moment; there was something wrong, he was sure of that. Could she, as he'd heard, have been injured more seriously than she was admitting? Had the old lady been lying, was it her who'd looked after Karen last night? Were they so close that if they'd searched properly, they'd have found her? He was now certain that must have been the case.
"You feel faint, Karen? Maybe you're injured? Should I call the boat for you?" he asked very softly.
She looked at him, he didn't seem in focus. Panic was beginning to set in. What if she fainted? How could she keep him prisoner until help arrived? Khan also was convinced something was seriously wrong and began to move very slowly, so as not to alarm her. Closer… Closer he came towards her.