Someone at the head of the column shouted. Max stopped walking. A couple of Blackshirts were running back. Max caught sight of Lukas, scrambling back with the others amid shouts and panic. He turned to Roland. ‘What is it?’ he said. ‘What are they all so scared of?’

  Roland cocked his head, trying to understand the shouts. ‘I don’t know. I think it’s – ’

  Before he could finish his sentence, an immense roar filled Max’s ears. There was no doubt that it was aggressive, and although Max couldn’t tell what direction it was coming from, it sounded close.

  Roland grabbed his arm. ‘It’s a gorilla,’ he hissed. ‘A silverback. Don’t move.’

  9

  Silverback

  As soon as Roland said it, Max knew what he had seen in the forest. Not Abby and Lili. Of course not. Those eyes, so human, must have belonged to the gorilla whose roar they had just heard, or one of its troop. It must have been following them for at least an hour.

  ‘I thought gorillas were peaceful animals,’ Max muttered.

  Roland nodded. ‘Normally,’ he said. ‘But if they feel threatened …’

  There was another roar. Roland winced. The thugs were suddenly more preoccupied by the danger up ahead than by the hostages. They were talking furiously to each other and many were priming their weapons, getting ready to shoot. But there was still no sign of the beast. The gang members looked to Babaka for guidance. He pointed at two of the Blackshirts and indicated for them to take the lead. They didn’t look thrilled at the prospect, but didn’t argue. They shifted their rifles onto their shoulders and walked gingerly on.

  The rest of the group followed, not in a line this time but in distinct groups, for protection. Lukas was a couple of groups ahead, next to Babaka, so Max couldn’t speak to him even if he’d wanted to. Max fell in alongside Sami. ‘We need to get the watch,’ he whispered to his friend. Sami didn’t reply. His expression was intense. ‘Mate,’ Max said, ‘you’re not going to do anything stupid, right?’ They might have argued, but he couldn’t face anything happening to Sami.

  Sami didn’t seem to hear him. He had upped his pace and was moving towards the front of the group. The thugs didn’t pay him any attention. Nor did they notice Max following him. Max didn’t know what Sami intended to do, but he was desperate to keep him out of trouble.

  The path led to another clearing. This was not a natural clearing. It was roughly circular and as wide as a couple of buses, and the remaining trees were burned. The gang members and their hostages congregated at its edge, Lukas keeping his distance from the other cadets. Several of the thugs had their weapons raised, but there was no sign of any gorilla. The jungle was uncharacte‌ristically quiet.

  Until …

  Another roar split the air. It made the hair on Max’s neck stand up. For a second he was more scared for himself than he was distraught by the loss of Abby and Lili. He spun around, trying to see the source of the noise. He wasn’t the only one. He couldn’t see anything through the thick vegetation, and he had to suppress the urge to run.

  ‘There!’

  It was Roland who spoke, in English first, then in his own dialect. He was pointing across the clearing. Max couldn’t see anything at first, other than a tangle of vegetation. But then there was another chilling roar, and movement, and Max saw a face, then a body.

  The gorilla moved forward into the clearing. Max was unprepared for its size. It walked on all fours. Its forearms, immense and hairy, were like tree trunks. Its shoulders were broad and powerful, its head immense. From where he was standing, Max could just see a few wisps of silver on its back, and was struck once more by its strangely human expression.

  Then the gorilla roared again, and there was nothing human about that. Its teeth were long and wolf-sharp. It stood on its hind legs and beat its chest. Standing like that, it was taller, broader and stronger than any of the humans facing it. Max wondered if it was protecting its troop. The sheer power of its presence made his legs go weak.

  That the gorilla intended to attack was beyond question. The sheer aggression of its behaviour made that clear. And it was clear to the thugs as well as to Max. They weren’t as brave as they liked to make out, however. Several shrank back. A couple lowered their weapons and disappeared into the vegetation. Only one, a Blackshirt with unruly wiry hair, had the courage to step forward and aim his weapon directly at the gorilla, ready to shoot.

  The gorilla didn’t know the danger it was in. It thumped back down onto four feet and thundered towards the humans. Some screamed. Others scattered. Max grabbed one of the younger hostages, who was standing right behind him, and pushed him out of the way towards the trees.

  The guy with the gun was shaking, but he managed to keep the rifle trained on the advancing gorilla. His finger was on the outside of the trigger guard. As the gorilla thundered towards him he moved it to the trigger, ready to kill the beast.

  ‘No!’ Sami shouted.

  ‘Sami!’ Max urged. ‘Don’t!’ But he was too late. Sami had thrown himself at the gunman. A shot rang out, and the retort was so loud and close that Max started violently. But Sami had knocked the Blackshirt sideways. The bullet did not find its target; it flew harmlessly into the trees.

  The sound of the bullet had made the gorilla stop. It had also apparently enraged it, because it rose to its hind legs again and roared once more. Then it continued its charge.

  ‘Sami!’ Max shouted, for Sami had positioned himself directly in the path of the animal. ‘Get out of the way! It’ll kill you!’ Lukas stepped forward, alarmed. Everyone else, hostages and thugs alike, whether armed or not, retreated. It was obvious to Max that Sami was putting himself in mortal danger. The gap between him and the gorilla was closing fast.

  ‘Stay back!’ Sami hissed. As he spoke, he seemed to shrink. He bowed his head and clasped his arms in front of his chest. He bent forward and bent his knees. Max understood immediately what he was doing: presenting himself to the gorilla as smaller, submissive and less of a threat.

  Sami’s actions had an immediate effect on the gorilla. It stopped its charge, though it remained on all fours just five paces from him. A deep, rumbling growl escaped its throat. It certainly didn’t sound friendly, but it was not as aggressive as before.

  Sami’s gaze locked with the gorilla’s. The gorilla inclined its head. The growling stopped, replaced by heavy breathing.

  The gang members and hostages had melted back into the vegetation. Only Max and the Blackshirt who had tried to shoot the gorilla remained in the clearing. The Blackshirt was on the ground, too scared to move. Certainly too scared to raise his rifle. Sami took a careful step forward. The gorilla growled a little louder, then fell quiet. Very slowly, still keeping himself small, Sami approached him.

  Max held his breath. He didn’t want to speak, in case he distracted the gorilla. He remembered reading in a survival manual that aggressive gorillas could be calmed by submissive behaviour and mutual grooming. It had never been part of their Special Forces Cadets training, however. He wondered how Sami had learned it, growing up in war-torn Syria. He felt his body tingle with tension as Sami reached out and placed his hand on the gorilla’s right forearm. He stayed like that for maybe ten seconds. The gorilla trembled but didn’t attack. Sami picked a scrap of dry leaf from his fur. Another sound escaped the gorilla’s throat, but this time it was more contented than aggressive. It raised its other arm and returned the gesture, gently picking at Sami’s hair.

  Max didn’t dare move. He thought something had passed between Sami and the gorilla. Then there was a sudden movement from the Blackshirt with the gun. He pushed himself up from his prone position and took aim at the gorilla.

  ‘No!’ Max shouted, but his voice was drowned out by the gorilla’s roar. The animal seemed to know what was happening. Before the thug could take a shot, the gorilla reared up onto its hind legs again and threw itself at the gunman. One massive forearm swiped the Blackshirt’s head, throwing him to the ground. The gun went off. Again, the bullet flew harmlessly into the forest. The thug lay on his back, unconscious. He had dropped his weapon and it lay to one side. The gorilla snarled and approached its adversary. Max thought he was going to finish the thug off.

  But then Sami was there, between them. He kept himself small but locked gazes with the gorilla. The animal stopped and growled. He reared up again and beat his chest. Then, back down on all fours, he tipped his head to one side. It was a strangely human gesture. Sami imitated it. The gorilla turned and ran back towards the forest, where it disappeared into the vegetation.

  Max exhaled in relief. Sami was watching the place where the gorilla had disappeared. He didn’t seem to notice that the man on the ground was stirring, or that the other gang members and their hostages were venturing back into the clearing from their hiding places in the vegetation. The gorilla’s roars and the retort of the gun had momentarily silenced the jungle, but the noise gradually grew, and with it the thugs’ confidence. One of the Blackshirts seized Sami’s arm and pulled him to where the other hostages stood. Other gang members started shouting, and in the confusion Max found himself standing next to Lukas.

  ‘Sami needs to stop drawing attention to himself,’ Lukas said. ‘He’ll get himself into trouble. He’ll get you into trouble too.’

  In the tension of the previous minutes, Max had almost forgotten his anger and his grief. Now they flooded back. He could barely stand the sight of his former friend. ‘Don’t talk to me ever again, Redshirt,’ he spat.

  Suddenly Babaka was there, dragging Lukas away from the hostages. Another thug pulled Max over to Sami.

  ‘That was quite a show,’ Max said. ‘Where d’you learn to do that?’

  ‘In a book,’ Sami replied. ‘I never thought I’d ever have to try it out.’

  As Sami spoke, Max saw Roland staring at him as if he was a lunatic. Max loyally stared Roland down, even though he agreed with him. ‘Could have gone either way,’ he said.

  ‘Gorillas are endangered,’ Sami said. ‘Nobody should be shooting them.’

  ‘You know what else is endangered?’ Max said. ‘Us. Seriously, Sami, I’ve already lost two friends today. I don’t want to lose another.’

  Sami shrugged. ‘They’re endangered,’ he repeated, as if that dealt with all Max’s worries. ‘We have to do the right thing. It’s our only option.’ He glanced over at Lukas. ‘What did he say?’

  ‘Nothing worth repeating,’ Max said. He gave Sami a faint smile. ‘A book, huh?’

  ‘What?’ Sami said. ‘We had books in Syria too, you know. And it’s quite boring, waiting for people to drop a bomb on you. Gives you plenty of time to read.’

  Despite everything, and although his eyes were crusty with tears, Max couldn’t help laughing. Sami was his only friend in the world now. He might be a bit crazy, but Max wouldn’t have him any other way.

  10

  The Stronghold

  Max’s laugh didn’t last long. Soon they were trekking through the jungle again. They moved more slowly this time. The gang members were on edge, thanks to their encounter with the gorilla. They surrounded the hostages like a close protection team, aiming their rifles out into the forest as they picked their way through the vegetation. Max had no idea how they knew which way to go. He guessed they were familiar with the area. He was completely lost.

  Anyway, his mind was on other things. With Abby and Lili gone, and Lukas brainwashed by the enemy, their mission was at an end. If he and Sami wanted to survive, they had three options. Escape into the jungle, where they would soon be lost and unlikely to survive more than a couple of days. Or activate the PLB, which was currently fixed around Babaka’s wrist. Impossible; they couldn’t even get close. So they had to go with the third option: stick with the hostages, keep quiet and hope an opportunity to activate the PLB presented itself.

  None did. Max plodded along, sweating and exhausted. The air buzzed with insects and his skin was raw with their bites. From time to time, he thought he saw movement in the vegetation alongside their convoy – a shape that looked vaguely human. But it always disappeared when he tried to pinpoint it. Maybe it was more gorillas. Or maybe it was something else. He was too tired to think about it, or even to be scared.

  It was as the light, and the sounds of the jungle, were fading that Max realised the vegetation was thinning out. It was subtle at first: the path was a little wider and the thickets through which they had to force themselves less frequent. Before long, it was obvious. Tree stumps lined the path, and there were frequent man-made clearings, where the vegetation had been cut away. Max caught the distant reek of woodsmoke, just as he had done in the village. The thugs seemed more relaxed. They still brandished their weapons but were no longer pointing them out into the jungle. The Blackshirts even shared some jokes and laughed loudly.

  ‘I think their stronghold is close,’ Max whispered to Sami. Sami nodded. No sooner had he done this than the convoy ground to a halt. Babaka shouted something. Max couldn’t understand him, but he made out the words ‘Oscar Juwani’ and felt ice in his stomach. Sami didn’t seem to be paying attention. He was searching for something.

  ‘What is it?’ Max said.

  ‘Where is Roland?’ Sami asked.

  There was no sign of him. ‘How long has he been gone?’ Max said.

  ‘I don’t know. I wasn’t checking on him. He must have slipped away.’

  ‘He was definitely there when you made friends with the gorilla,’ Max said. ‘So I guess he must have left in the last couple of hours.’

  ‘Do you think we will see him again?’ Sami said.

  ‘I don’t know. But put it this way: he knew Oscar Juwani’s people were coming to the village and he didn’t run away then.’

  ‘You think he wanted to be caught? Like us?’

  ‘Work it out,’ Max said. ‘Oscar Juwani killed his brother. I think Roland might have something to say about that.’

  ‘He can’t fight Oscar Juwani and his thugs by himself,’ Sami said.

  ‘No,’ Max said, ‘he can’t. And neither can we.’

  ‘What are we going to do?’

  ‘Nothing,’ Max said. He didn’t like sounding so negative in front of Sami, but he couldn’t hide it. ‘It’s over, Sami. It was over when Lukas …’ He couldn’t finish the sentence.

  ‘If we could only get our hands on that watch …’ Sami said.

  Max had to bank down his anger. There was no way – no way – they could get the watch back. He tried to change the subject. ‘Hey, did you notice something – or someone – following us this afternoon?’

  Sami nodded.

  ‘You think it was your new best friend?’ Max asked. And when Sami didn’t respond, he said, ‘The gorilla.’

  ‘I don’t know,’ Sami said. ‘I don’t think so. I think he would prefer to stay clear of humans.’

  ‘Wise move,’ Max said darkly. ‘Especially these humans.’

  The thugs were hurrying them on again. They didn’t seem to have noticed that Roland was missing. They seemed too keen to reach their destination to count their prisoners. The convoy upped its pace. The trees grew thinner, the smell of woodsmoke stronger. Then there was another smell. Fetid and unpleasant. It was human sewage – and it was getting stronger.

  Then they were on the edge of a clearing, perhaps the size of a couple of football pitches. All the trees had been cut down. Some still lay where they fell, while others had been moved to the edge of the clearing. Patches of vegetation had been burned away, leaving black areas. Some were still smoking. The jungle itself had been scary but beautiful. This was ugly – as if the forest had been cut and wounded, and this was an enormous scar.

  To the right, at one end of the clearing, there was a small but fast-moving stream. Fires were dotted around the clearing. Some of them were being used for cooking, with spits erected in front of them and meat roasting. It smelled rancid and gamey. Max had a nasty feeling it was monkey. There were a few rough shelters and lean-tos made from branches and other jungle foliage. They were not well built, but tumbledown and surrounded by debris. Deep pits yawned around the edge of the clearing. Some emitted a dirty yellow smoke.

  It was hard to be sure how many people were there. Max guessed about a hundred and fifty. Without exception they wore black, red or blue tops.

  At the far side of the clearing was a raised plateau, about house height. It backed onto thick, impenetrable jungle. The plateau must have formed naturally; to construct it by hand would have taken years. A rough staircase, hewn out of rock and guarded by two Blackshirts, led up to the plateau. On top there was a hut, larger and more soundly built than any of the shelters down below. Several Blackshirts stood guard around it.

  ‘I reckon that’s Oscar Juwani’s place,’ Max whispered to Sami, who stood next to him. Sami nodded.

  Next to the plateau stood a tall, sturdy tree. A large bamboo cage dangled from a thick branch, fifteen metres from the ground. The other end of the rope was tied to the base of the tree. From this distance Max couldn’t be sure, but it looked as if the cage contained people. Three, maybe four, insanely cramped. He suspected that this was the SAS team the cadets had been brought in to rescue. The team had no way of escaping from their suspended prison, and Max didn’t want to think about what the conditions were like in there. Were they starving? Were they ever let down to use the toilet? Were they even still alive?

  There were a number of other bamboo cages, nine or ten perhaps, but these were on the ground. They were larger than the suspended cage, and empty, but Max reckoned he had a pretty good idea of where he and Sami would be spending the night.

  He examined the people in the clearing. None of them looked older than sixteen or seventeen, and many looked much younger than that. Most were boys, but there were girls too: two thirds to one third, Max estimated. Only the Blackshirts were armed. Max could only see three Blackshirts – all were male, and they had a swagger to them. It was clear, even from a distance, that they liked being in charge. They were waving their arms about and giving instructions to the Redshirts. The Redshirts moved slowly around the clearing, working. Some stoked the fires, others carried boxes, a few were cooking – but their jobs were not obviously unpleasant. Those jobs fell to the Blueshirts, who were digging pits around the edge of the clearing, or filling them in with soil. Some of these pits were obviously latrines – Max saw a Redshirt urinating into one. But surely they weren’t all latrines? Max didn’t want to dwell on what other purpose they might serve. Some Blueshirts were chopping logs – a large log pile lay under a wooden frame with a palm-leaf roof. Some washed clothes in old metal baths.