mon ami. Bon voyage. Teuns salutes, slips out the door, steps over the corpses, and stops just before the rounding corner.
“It is El Khouri here, do not shoot,” he shouts in Arabic, and it has to be the best made-up voice Lefevre had ever heard. The captain looks at the light in the corridor and is grateful it is already heavily dusk in the passage. Here it can become nearly full dark, although it is only in the afternoon yet, as this part of the fort is fairly deep underground, and there are no windows to the outside to let in some light.
Teuns turns the corner and halts. Lefevre closes his eyes for a moment, nearly overcome with fear, but nothing happens. The corridor is quiet. Teuns starts walking slowly. The automatic rifle was firmly clasped under his arm.
In the dim light, he can
