Short Range (The Spider Shepherd Thrillers Book 16)

by Stephen Leather

  ‘Do you want me to video you?’ asked Dexter.

  Giving Dexter his mobile phone was the last thing he wanted to do, so he shook his head. ‘Battery died,’ he lied. ‘I forgot to charge it last night.’

  ‘No sweat, I’ll record it on mine and send it to you.’

  Dexter and his group headed to the viewing point with Gordan. Branko took Shepherd, Palmer and Scott to the line of sandbags. ‘You must have thrown grenades in the Army?’ Shepherd asked Palmer.

  ‘Sure,’ said Palmer. ‘The NATO L109A1. A grenade is a grenade, pretty much.’

  Shepherd nodded. The L109A1 was made in the UK following a design that the Swiss came up with. That had always amused Shepherd, the fact that a country famed for its neutrality would invent a weapon that would kill anyone within a range of ten yards and cause horrific injuries to anyone a few metres further away. Shepherd had thrown plenty of them during his Army career, but once in the SAS his grenade of choice had been the stun grenade, aka the flashbang. The flashbang had been specifically made for the SAS as a weapon that would stun and disorientate, rather than kill. Not that the point was to save the life of the target – the idea was to remove the deadly shrapnel that didn’t differentiate between the good guys and the bad. The stun grenade casing was designed to stay intact during detonation but produce the maximum amount of light and sound. There were several different designs, with single or multiple detonations and some with added CS gas.

  Branko took out one of the plastic containers and twisted it apart to reveal the grenade inside. He handed it to Palmer. ‘Might as well have the expert show us how it’s done.’

  Palmer grinned. He held the grenade to his mouth and used his teeth to pull out the pin. He spat the pin to the ground. ‘Fire in the hole!’ he shouted and threw the grenade over the sandbags towards the targets.

  They all ducked down and three seconds later there was a dull thud that they felt as much as heard. They stood up. Palmer grinned when he saw that one of the crates had been completely blown apart.

  ‘Interesting technique,’ said Branko. ‘But I wouldn’t recommend using your teeth like that.’

  He prepared a second grenade and handed it to Shepherd. Shepherd had zero interest in throwing a live grenade, but it was necessary to maintain his cover. ‘So I just pull it, right?’ he asked Branko.

  ‘That’s it. Pull it and throw it.’

  Shepherd feigned unease. ‘It’s a bit scary, isn’t it? Holding something in your hand that can cause an explosion like that.’

  Branko shrugged. ‘For soldiers, it’s a tool, nothing more. Under the right circumstances, it could save your life.’

  Palmer patted Shepherd on the shoulder. ‘You’ll be fine. If there was any risk, Branko wouldn’t be standing here with us, would he?’

  ‘Fair point,’ said Shepherd. He put his index finger through the ring, frowned, then pulled out the pin, keeping the spoon pressed to the side. He turned towards the boxes and threw it in a curving arc. He ducked down a fraction of a second before the grenade bounced off one of the crates. The grenade exploded and Shepherd heard whoops of excitement from Dexter and his friends.

  Branko took out a grenade for Scott. After he’d thrown it, Branko congratulated them all and took them over to the tent. ‘Time for the RPGs,’ he said.

  Luka and Gordan had placed the two metal boxes containing the RPGs onto the table and opened them. Shepherd went over and looked at them. They were RPG-7s. It was a simple enough weapon, which is why it had proved so popular in war zones around the world. Since it was first manufactured in 1961, more than nine million had been produced and while most modern armies had phased out its use, it was still being produced in China, Bulgaria and Romania. Basically it was a single-shot smoothbore steel tube, four centimetres in diameter. The midsection of the barrel was covered in wood so that the operator didn’t get burned and there were two handles that held the weapon steady when it was mounted on the shoulder. The back end was flared to reduce the recoil.

  The RPG-7 could be used over and over again and could fire a variety of rockets including fragmentation, armour-piercing and high-explosive versions. The maximum range of most of the rockets was about a kilometre but they weren’t really accurate beyond two hundred metres. Shepherd had seen the results of a series of tests carried out by the US Army that showed that while the weapon was pretty much a hundred per cent accurate at fifty metres, that accuracy fell to fifty per cent at two hundred metres and at five hundred metres fewer than one shot in twenty-five would be expected to hit the target. Shepherd had never actually fired one, but he had been on the receiving end several times during operations in the Middle East.

  Branko pulled one out of its box and slung it casually onto his right shoulder. ‘This is how you hold it,’ he said. He put his right hand on the forward handle and slipped his finger over the trigger. ‘You point it and you pull the trigger. It’s as simple as firing a handgun. There are sights but at short range you really just point it at the target.’

  He handed it to Palmer who put it onto his shoulder and looked through the sights. Branko grinned. ‘A natural,’ he said.

  Palmer gave the launcher to Dexter who heaved it onto his shoulder. ‘I thought it would be heavier,’ he said.

  ‘The rocket adds some weight to it, but in total it weighs about eight kilograms,’ said Branko. ‘Right, I’ll run through how it works, though really all you need to know is that you point it and pull the trigger. You don’t have to be a genius to use one. Tens of thousands of very stupid people have used these, peasants have killed highly-trained soldiers right across the Middle East and brought helicopters down in the arsehole of Africa, so you guys won’t have any trouble at all.’

  His audience laughed as Dexter gave the launcher back to Branko.

  ‘Once it is loaded, the rocket sticks out of the front end. The launcher we can use again and again. I’ve brought two so that we have a spare in case we have a problem. Pulling the trigger fires a gunpowder booster that kicks the rocket out of the launcher. You’ll hear a roar and there’s a cloud of grey smoke out of the back. You don’t want to be standing behind one of these things when the trigger is pulled. Or the front, obviously. Once the rocket is about ten metres out, its onboard motor ignites taking it up to almost three hundred metres a second. Two sets of fins are deployed to get it spinning and keep it on the straight and narrow. Basically the rocket goes where you point it, you can’t change where it’s going once you’ve pulled the trigger.’

  ‘What’s the range?’ asked Dexter.

  ‘It can travel more than a kilometre, but there’s a fuse that makes sure it detonates if it goes beyond nine hundred metres,’ said Branko. ‘We’ll be firing at targets about two hundred metres away. Any questions?’

  ‘You said there were different types of rockets,’ said Shepherd. ‘How does that work?’ He knew all about the different types of rocket, what he wanted to know was what types Branko had access to.

  ‘There are fragmentation rockets designed to take out infantry or small vehicles, then there are high-explosive versions and high-explosive anti-tank versions. There’s even one rocket with two warheads to get through serious armour.’

  ‘Which type can we fire?’ asked Shepherd.

  ‘We’ll be using fragmentation rockets,’ said Branko.

  ‘Can’t we use the big ones?’ asked Dexter. ‘Like the ones we see on TV?’

  ‘On the news you probably saw them firing a PG-7V, a high-explosive anti-tank version. They explode with a big bang. We don’t want to be doing that here because one hit and there’ll be nothing left of the target. We’ll be firing at old vehicles but PG-7Vs will destroy them. The rockets we’ll be using are real enough, they just won’t blow the target to smithereens.’ He grinned. ‘Trust me, you’ll enjoy it. Right, let’s head on down to the target area.’

  ‘Do we need the ear defenders and safety glasses?’ asked Dexter.

  ‘No, it’s a different sort of noise, it won
’t damage your hearing,’ said Branko. ‘And there’s no cartridges being spat out. But if any of you feel more comfortable with the ear protection and glasses, help yourself. They won’t hurt.’

  Branko headed off to the left. In the distance were three vehicles and as they got closer Shepherd realised they were all rusting hulks. There was a white van, a black pickup truck and an old red Yugo, the Yugoslavian-made car that was based on the Fiat 127. The wheels had been taken off all of them and the axles were resting on bricks. The group followed him. Bringing up the rear were Luka, Gordan and Neno. Gordan and Neno were each carrying boxes of rockets on their shoulders.

  Branko stopped about two hundred yards from the vehicles, positioning himself so that the quarry wall was directly behind them. ‘As you can see, the rock face is about four hundred yards away, so there won’t be time for the fuse to kick in. But I’m pretty sure you’ll all be able to hit the targets. Are we ready?’

  Everyone nodded and Branko grinned. ‘So who’s first?’

  ‘I’ll give it a go,’ said Dexter.

  Branko gave him the launcher and Dexter hoisted it onto his shoulder. ‘Right, Gordan will prepare the rocket and I’ll talk you through it.’

  Gordan opened one of the boxes and took out a long, thin warhead. Shepherd recognised it as an OG-7 round, basically used to take out infantry. The shrapnel could penetrate body armour plates at up to twenty feet and rip through exposed flesh at up to four hundred feet. Shepherd frowned. They were far too close to the targets; the shrapnel from the OG-7 would be as lethal as the grenades they had been throwing earlier. Gordan took out a pale green cylinder and screwed it into the base of the warhead. Shepherd realised it was a practice grenade, with a much lower explosive charge and none of the metal rings on the casing that could be converted to shrapnel by the blast.

  ‘That’s the propelling charge,’ explained Branko. ‘Also called a booster. Inside the cardboard container is the explosive charge that kicks the rocket out of the launcher.’

  ‘How much recoil is there?’ asked Dexter.

  ‘Less than you expect,’ said Branko. ‘The exhaust gases go straight out of the back. You feel it go but it won’t throw you off balance. But as I said, you wouldn’t want to be standing behind one when it goes off.’

  Gordan slotted the warhead into the launcher on Dexter’s shoulder. ‘Load,’ he said in a loud voice.

  ‘Right, that’s all you need to do to load it,’ said Branko. ‘There’s a safety, obviously, but it’s now pretty much ready to go.’ He flicked up the sights and showed Dexter how to aim. ‘Got it?’ he asked.

  ‘Sure,’ said Dexter, though Shepherd could hear the uncertainty in his voice.

  Branko nodded at Gordan. ‘Everyone move to the side, please,’ said Gordan. Once his instructions had been followed he said ‘Clear to fire,’ in a loud voice.

  ‘At this point, you say “Ready” to let us know you’re good to go,’ said Branko.

  Dexter nodded. ‘Ready,’ he said.

  ‘Okay, and now Gordan will remove the fuse protector, which makes the warhead live.’

  Gordan pulled a small cloth strip from the nose of the warhead.

  ‘Right, cock the hammer, aim, and then push the safety to the left. Take your time, there’s no rush. Then when you are ready, squeeze the trigger while keeping the sights trained on the target.’

  ‘Which one should I go for?’

  ‘Your call,’ said Branko. ‘Whenever you’re ready.’

  Dexter nodded, then cocked the hammer with his thumb and moved the safety switch over to the left. He took a deep breath, then pulled the trigger. There was a loud whooshing sound and the rocket flew out of the launcher and sped across the quarry leaving a grey-white trail behind it. The missile hit the rear wheel arch of the white van and exploded. Dexter stood staring at the damage, his mouth wide open. Palmer slapped him on the back. ‘Nice one,’ he said. Dexter was frozen to the spot, his eyes fixed on the van. The smoke trail was whipped away by the wind.

  Branko took the launcher from Dexter and handed it to Gordan. Gordan checked it and handed it to Palmer, then prepared a second rocket.

  ‘Fuck, I didn’t get a video of it,’ said Dexter.

  ‘It’s okay, Luka is filming everything,’ said Branko. He gestured off to the left where Luka was holding his phone up.

  Shepherd turned away and pulled the peak of his baseball cap low over his eyes. The last thing he wanted was a video of his face on a website.

  Gordan slotted the rocket into the launcher. Branko ran through the procedure again, and Palmer slid the safety switch over, sighted on the Yugo and squeezed the trigger. The rocket streaked across the quarry and slammed into the front of the vehicle before exploding. ‘Not bad,’ said Palmer.

  ‘Bloody brilliant,’ said Scott. ‘Or were you aiming for the van?’

  ‘Fuck you,’ said Palmer, grinning.

  ‘Me next,’ said Atkinson.

  As Gordan checked the launcher, Shepherd kept his back to Luka and put on his Ray-Ban sunglasses.

  The wind was starting to pick up, blowing from the left. It was Atkinson’s turn to fire. ‘You’re going to have to take the wind into account,’ said Branko.

  ‘It’ll blow the rocket off course, right?’ asked Atkinson as he put the launcher onto his right shoulder.

  ‘Yes, but not the way you’d expect,’ said Branko. ‘The wind will push the fins away which means that the nose of the rocket will turn into the wind. So you have to aim the rocket in the direction that the wind is blowing.’

  Shepherd nodded. It was counter-intuitive, and the opposite of what happened to a sniper’s bullet.

  Gordan prepared the rocket, and loaded it into the launcher. He adjusted the sights. ‘That should do it,’ he said. ‘Centre the sights on the target, you should be fine. Load!’

  ‘Clear to fire,’ said Branko.

  Atkinson pulled the trigger but nothing happened. He twisted around to look at Branko. ‘It’s not working,’ he said.

  ‘The safety is on,’ said Branko.

  Atkinson’s friends laughed and teased him and his cheeks reddened.

  ‘Clear to fire!’ repeated Branko.

  This time Atkinson flicked the safety into the off position and pulled the trigger. His grip was too loose on the handles and as the rocket fired the launcher kicked up. The rocket soared into the air. The booster kicked in and its trajectory took it over the tops of the vehicles.

  ‘Oh shit …’ said Atkinson.

  Branko looked worried, but Shepherd could see that the rocket’s trajectory was taking it directly towards the rock face. The rocket smacked into the rock and exploded into a thousand fragments and a flash of orange. Branko sighed, clearly relieved that the rocket hadn’t left the quarry. ‘And that gentlemen is what happens if you don’t keep the sights centred on the target,’ he said.

  ‘Sorry,’ said Atkinson.

  ‘No problem,’ said Branko. He said something in Serbian to Neno and Neno grinned and replied. It clearly wasn’t complimentary but both men smiled at Atkinson. He handed back the launcher. ‘Sorry,’ he said again.

  ‘The wind didn’t help,’ said Branko.

  Branko spent more time briefing Hewson, Moorhouse and Scott and paid more attention to their technique. All managed to hit their targets.

  Shepherd was the last to fire. Branko gave him the launcher and Shepherd put it on his shoulder and looked through the sights. ‘I’ve saved the best until last,’ said Branko.

  ‘I wouldn’t say that I’ll be the best,’ said Shepherd.

  ‘Not you, the rocket,’ said Branko. He nodded at Gordan who reached into the box and pulled out a bulbous green rocket, much bigger than the ones they had fired before. Shepherd recognised it immediately. It was a PG7-VM warhead, capable of taking out an armoured vehicle, though a modern tank would probably shrug it off. From the look of it, it was the real thing and not a practice model.

  ‘Bloody hell,’ said Dexter. ‘What is it?�
�

  ‘It’s an anti-tank model, the type we were talking about,’ said Branko. ‘I thought we could use the one, just so you can see the damage it will do.’

  Gordan pulled out a propelling charge and screwed it into the warhead, then gently eased it into the launcher. ‘Load,’ he said.

  The safety was still on but Shepherd kept his finger well away from the trigger. ‘Aim at the Yugo,’ said Branko. ‘It’s on its last legs as a target.’

  Shepherd did as he was told.

  ‘Clear to fire,’ said Branko.

  ‘Ready,’ said Shepherd.

  Gordan reached over and pulled out the fuse protector.

  Shepherd flicked the safety off and squeezed the trigger, keeping a tight grip on both handles. The rocket roared away. In flight it was no different from the fragmentation rounds they had fired, but when it hit the Yugo the car exploded in a ball of flame.

  Everyone cheered – even Branko and Gordan.

  The blast lifted the car completely off the ground and when it fell back it was all aflame and the doors were hanging off their hinges.

  ‘Would you look at that?’ said Dexter, staring at the burning vehicle. He looked over at Moorhouse. ‘We’ve got to get some of those, mate.’

  ‘Fuck, yeah,’ said Moorhouse.

  Shepherd handed the launcher to Gordan. Dexter could have meant only one thing by that statement. His group was definitely planning a terrorist incident back in the UK.

  They arrived back at the hotel just as the sun was setting. As they filed off the coach in the hotel car park, Branko told them that they had an hour to shower and change before dinner would be served.

  Shepherd went up to his room and showered to get rid of the smell of cordite. He changed into a clean shirt and jeans and then sat on his bed and called Jimmy Sharpe. Sharpe answered on the third ring. ‘How’s Harry?’ asked Shepherd.

  ‘All good,’ said Sharpe. ‘They wanted him to do a run yesterday and he was okay to do it, so yeah, we got photographs of the delivery and we followed the courier back to that house in Kilburn. We took samples from the bag and filmed the delivery.’