Mike Dixon

did his best to listen to the voices above his head. Harald
was yelling instructions to the minder.
„He‟s gone down that hole … shoot the bugger!‟
A torch shone through the hole and swished back and
forth amongst the broken beehives and dead washing ma-
chines. David watched it search in corners and other dark
places. His aim was to avoid a fight. Now it looked as if he
might have to use his gun.
The thought was chilling. Killing people wasn‟t fun. Being
killed was even worse. He‟d seen Harald‟s minder through
the window. The guy was armed with an automatic weapon.
He and Anne could be ripped to pieces with one blast.
He pushed the child down behind the wall.
„Stay here and don‟t move!‟
He shouted in her ear and scrambled to one side.
A concrete pillar offered protection of a sort and was well
away from the child. He dodged the torch and reached cov-
er without difficulty. The minder was now directly above his
head.
A quick shot was tempting. David rejected the idea. His
preferred option was to sneak away with the child, not fight
his way out. He watched as the torch moved systematically,
skimming over the dirt floor and probing the wall where
Anne was hidden. He wasn‟t fussed. She was well out of
sight. Then, to his horror, the beam stopped and tracked
back. His heart froze. A small foot was sticking out. The
beam settled on it then retreated back through the hole.
David watched the light flick over the floorboards above his
head and a thought entered his head.
A professional would have taken him out by now.
The guy wasn‟t smart. His torch was shining through
gaps in the boards. He was betraying his position with every
move. Right now he was going through one of the bedrooms
to the front veranda. There were steps at the end