Honour Among Thieves

then, we'd better get you home, Professor, hadn't we?' said Cohen. 'Aziz will take over while we're in his neck of the woods.' He jumped out of the cab and the Kurd came running round to take his place behind the wheel. Once Cohen had clambered over the tailboard, he banged the roof of the truck and Aziz switched the engine on. They accelerated round the courtyard, drove straight through the barrier and out onto Victory Square. The only other vehicles to be seen had long since been abandoned, and there was no sign of anyone on the streets. 'The area has been cleared for three miles in every direction, so it will be a little time before we come across anything,' Aziz said as he turned left into Kindi Street. He quickly moved the lorry up to sixty miles per hour, a speed only Saddam had ever experienced before on that particular road. 'I'm going to take the old Baquba Road out of the city, travelling through the areas where we're least likely to see any sign of the military,' explained Aziz as he passed the fountain made famous by Ali Baba. 'I'm still hoping to reach the highway out of Baghdad within the magic two hours.' Aziz took a sudden right, switching gears but hardly losing any speed as he continued through what gave every impression of being a ghost town. Scott looked up at the sun as they crossed a bridge over the Tigris; in an hour or so it would have disappeared behind the highest buildings, and their chances of remaining undetected would greatly improve. Aziz swung past Karmel Junblat University and into Jamila Street. There were still no people on the roads or pavements, and Scott felt that if anyone did see them now they would assume they were part of an army unit on patrol. It was Hannah who spotted the first person: an old man, bent double, sitting on the edge of the pavement as if nothing in particular had taken place. They drove past him at sixty miles per hour, but he didn't even look up. Aziz swung into the next road and found himself facing a group of young looters carrying off televisions and electronic equipment. They scattered when they saw the truck. Around the next corner there were more looters, but still no sign of police or soldiers. When Aziz spotted the first dark-green uniforms he swerved quickly right, down a side street that on any other Wednesday would have been packed with shoppers and where a vehicle would have been lucky to average more than five miles per hour. But today Aziz managed to keep the speedometer above fifty. He turned right again, and they saw some of the first of the locals who had ventured back onto the streets. Once they had reached the end of the road, Aziz was able to join the main thoroughfare out of Baghdad. The traffic was still light. Aziz eased the truck across into the outside lane, checking his rear-view mirror every few seconds and complying with the speed limit of fifty miles per hour. 'Never get stopped for the wrong reasons,' Kratz had warned him a thousand times. When Aziz switched his sidelights on, Scott's hopes began to rise. Although the two hours had to be up, he doubted that anybody would be out searching for them yet, and it was well understood that with every mile out of Baghdad the citizens became less and less loyal to Saddam. Once Aziz had left the Baghdad boundary sign behind him he pushed the speedometer up to sixty. 'Give me twenty minutes, Allah,' he said. 'Give me twenty minutes and I'll get them to Castle Post.' 'Castle Post?' said Scott. 'We're not on a Red Indian scouting mission.' Aziz laughed. 'No, Professor, it's the site of a First World War British Army post, where we can hide for the night. If I can get there before -' All three of them spotted the first army lorry coming towards them. Aziz swung off to the left, skidded into a side road, and was immediately forced to drop his speed. 'So now where are we heading?' asked Scott. 'Khan Beni Saad,' said Aziz, 'the village where I was born. It will only be possible for us to stay for one night, but no one will think of looking for us there. Tomorrow, Professor, you will have to decide which of the six borders we're going to cross.' General Hamil had been pacing around his office for the past hour. The two hours had long passed, and he was starting to wonder if Kratz might have got the better of him. But he couldn't work out how. He was even beginning to regret that he had killed the man. If Kratz had still been alive, at least he could have fallen back on the tried and trusted