Carlos accepted the pencil and pad of paper and quickly scanned the crude drawings. One showed the first level of the villa, with a bathroom, kitchen, and a pantry room at the rear and a dining room and television room at the front. Near the pantry was marked a set of stairs leading to the upper level.

The second drawing showed three bedrooms on the upper floor with one marked with a large X and the drawing of a stick man lying on a bed.

“Your puta, she do good,” said Carlos. “Now, tell me about bobby trap,” he said, shoving the paper and pencil onto Jack’s lap.

Jack quickly sketched two trees that were the closest to the rear door of the villa. He then drew what he said was a fish line tied to one tree leading to a glass hanging in the crook of a branch on the other tree.

“The glass is held in place with a clothes pin,” said Jack. “He puts a grenade with the pin removed inside the glass. Below the glass is a rock. If someone walks into the line...”

“Then the glass falls and the grenade ... it go bang,” said Carlos.

“You’ve got it,” replied Jack. “A simple idea, but effective.”

Carlos rolled down the window and handed the sketches to one of his men. He then gave him some brief instructions before rolling up the window.

The minutes passed and the tension reduced everyone to silence. Carlos finally got the call he had been expecting. When he was finished, he barked some orders at the driver, who flicked a switch. Jack heard the doors lock. Entering the car without permission was virtually impossible. Now, leaving the car would be up to the discretion of the driver.

“My men in place at back,” said Carlos. “No bobby trap.”

Normally Jack might have found Carlos’s grasp of the English language amusing, but this was not the time — and he hated Carlos too much to find anything amusing about him.

From her hiding spot in the doorway, Laura watched as two vans, followed by two SUVs, roared past her down the street toward the small bridge. The Mercedes followed from behind, but the darkness, coupled with the tinted windows on the Mercedes, stopped her from catching a glimpse of Jack’s face as it went by.

The first three vehicles bounced across the small bridge, causing the wooden planks to echo loudly in the night. The fourth vehicle stopped crossways at the entrance to the bridge. Four men leapt out and stood with machine guns at the ready as the Mercedes skidded to a stop in the dirt behind it.

Jack watched as Carlos, sitting beside him, screamed instructions into his phone from the safety of the back seat. The two men in the front of the Mercedes remained in their seat, but the man in front of Jack had turned to face him and made no pretext of hiding the pistol he was pointing at Jack.

Jack tried to control his breathing and relax his muscles as he watched Carlos, waiting for the inevitable. Waiting for when Carlos knew and turned to face him...

Jack looked across the creek and caught a glimpse of a small army of men as they kicked open the front door to the villa and rushed inside. The time will be now ... I love you, Natasha.

Jack smiled at the man facing him from the front seat and gave a nod of his head toward the villa just as the lights went on in the house. The distraction didn’t work. Jack saw the man’s eyes flicker toward the villa, but he remained focused on Carlos’s face, waiting for his boss to give the order.

Instantly, automatic weapons erupted inside the villa as men’s screams echoed their terror. At the same time, men rushed out of the shed beside the villa while their weapons burped fire and death.

Carlos looked at Jack. His eyes burned with hatred and his mouth opened to shout a command.

Jack gripped the pencil. The eraser butted against the palm of his hand while the pencil protruded from between the middle of his fingers.

Carlos reeled back in horror as Jack slammed the point of the pencil upwards through his neck under his jaw. His intent was to penetrate the brain but Carlos twisted his head. Instead, the pencil skewered his esophagus and snapped in half, leaving the jagged end protruding from his throat. He tried to scream but instead his voice became an ugly wheezing sound as his body demanded air.

Jack was barely conscious of the man in the front seat raising his gun toward his head while he grasped Carlos with both hands around the back of his neck, pulling him down on top of him.

Carlos gurgled and tried to push himself upright, but Jack had partially wriggled down between the seats and held on tight. Carlos grabbed at his own throat, trying to remove the pencil.

Jack twisted and turned. For a few brief seconds, he felt fingers trying to pry his arm free from the back of Carlos’s neck while the two men screamed at each other in the front seat.

Laura waited for the sound of gunfire before leaving the shelter of her doorway and running toward the Mercedes. She was thankful that Ramirez had given her a Glock 9mm for protection and reached for it in her purse as she raced forward. She knew it wouldn’t penetrate the car, but if a door opened she might have a chance.

A few scatterings of citizens on the street ran past her, going in the opposite direction to escape the din of terror that unleashed itself at the far end. One man appeared in front of her and she gasped as she recognized his face. The stringy red hair ... chipped front tooth. Her brain tried to react to what she thought was impossible. Rellik raised his hand and she saw the gun pointed at her face — point blank range!

Her training took over as she instinctively crouched and started to raise her own weapon. Over the noise of a multitude of automatic weapons firing and people screaming, her brain heard him yell, “Fuckin’ bitch!” and she saw the muzzle flash from his pistol.

Rellik grinned. Good shot. Right through the centre of the forehead!

Jack hung onto Carlos’s neck with one arm while his other hand reached around Carlos’s waistband. His fingers touched the leather holster and he frantically grabbed for the weapon and felt his fingers wrap around it. Got it! ... Wait ... No! It’s a cellphone! He was just packing a second cellphone!

Jack was conscious of the man in the front seat opening his door. A second later, the door by Jack’s head opened. He tilted his head and looked up just as the man took aim at the top of his skull. In a futile effort, Jack released Carlos and tried to grab at the gun. The man stepped back slightly, and it gave Carlos the opportunity to push himself upright, exposing Jack from the chest up as he lay pinned between the seats.

Jack had heard that you never hear the sound of the shot that takes out your brain. It’s not true. I hear it ... sticky pieces of skull and brain splattering down my chest ... Carlos pushing himself backwards to safety ... blackness...

He heard the sound of a second shot, then stared numbly upwards as the light returned.

“Jesus fuck!” yelled Damien. “Don’t just lie there!” he screamed, while dragging the corpse off Jack’s face with one hand, holding the pistol in his other hand.

Jack wriggled out of the car backwards onto the ground. He saw the driver slumped over in the front seat and the car window awash in blood behind him. In the back seat, Carlos stared at him in terror with the broken pencil protruding from his neck. He took his hand from his throat and made a gesture to reach for the door handle. He knew it was hopeless. He was right.