Battleground by Chris Ryan Page A

again, though. Back home. That would be all right, wouldn’t it, Ed?’ They were looking directly at him now. Piercing.
    Ed shrugged. ‘Whatever,’ he said.
    ‘Good. Well then, I don’t think we need to keep you any longer.’ The man’s words were friendly, but his voice wasn’t. Ed stood up and walked to the door.
    ‘Ed,’ the woman’s voice called softly before he had a chance to open it. He stopped and turned round.
    ‘What?’
    ‘We’ll know if you’re lying. You do realize that, don’t you?’
    Ed frowned. He gave them a hard look, then dug his fingernails a little more firmly into the palm of his hand. Then he shrugged again, opened the door and walked out.
    They were just trying to put the frighteners on him, he told himself.
    They didn’t suspect anything.
    Even if they did, they had nothing on him. Nothing at all. He just had to keep up the pretence. Do everything he could not to crack. And he knew he could do it. After all, there was no way he was going to let Ben Tracey, of all people, get any help from him . . .

Chapter Ten
     
    The day passed slowly and uncomfortably. As light trickled into their new prison, Ben saw that they had indeed been put into a room that contained nothing they could use to their advantage: just a low bed with a thin mattress and very little else. He let Aarya take the bed while he lay on the hard, dusty floor. Sometimes he would fall asleep, only to be woken with a start by the booming of weaponry in the distance, or the occasional muttering of Aarya’s regular prayers. Whenever that happened he would look around, confused and not knowing where he was. But then he’d see Aarya’s terrified face and the locked door and it would all come back to him in a sickening flash.
    Evening arrived and the door opened. It was Amir, his ever-present gun slung by his side. He placed another bottle of water on the floor along with a wooden bowl of food. ‘Eat this,’ he said with a glare at Ben, ‘then prepare to leave. We depart at nightfall.’ Ben noticed that he refused to address Aarya.
    The water was welcome, as was the food – a strange, bland porridge which Ben might have turned up his nose at if he hadn’t been so hungry. As it was, both he and Aarya gobbled it down. And when they had finished, the waiting continued.
    ‘You think they will take us towards where the guns are firing?’ Aarya asked.
    ‘Yeah,’ Ben said. ‘I do.’
    It was fully dark when the door was opened again. Nobody needed to tell them what to do. Ben and Aarya walked out, covered as always by men with guns, and were marched from the compound under the watchful eyes of the owners.
    ‘I don’t know why they don’t help us,’ Ben muttered under his breath.
    ‘Maybe they don’t want to help us,’ Aarya breathed. ‘Or maybe they know things will go badly for them if they do.’
    One of their captors barked a command. It was not in English, but Ben understood its tone. Silence!
    Amir was waiting for them, with some of the others, outside the compound; but instead of the three heavy armoured trucks they had used before, there were two much smaller Land Rovers. As Ben and Aarya stood under armed guard, they watched the suitcase bomb being lowered into one of them. Only then did Amir approach them. He pointed at Aarya. ‘You,’ he said. ‘Get into the front truck.’
    Aarya meekly did as she was told. Ben made to follow her, but immediately felt a hand on his shoulder. ‘Not you,’ Amir snarled at him. ‘You get into the other vehicle.’ As Ben opened his mouth to protest, Amir interrupted him. ‘Forget about being a hero,’ he hissed. ‘The girl is no use to us. If you do not do what you are told, we will kill her first.’
    Ben stared at him furiously, but the terrorist’s words had frozen his muscles. Glancing over his shoulder, he saw a terrified Aarya being placed in the front truck; he was left with no option but to follow Amir into the rear vehicle.
    The suitcase bomb was on