The New Recruit

by Andy McNab

  An hour later, having stopped after half an hour for a rest to get his breath back and neck some water, Liam knew he’d covered barely a mile. Regardless, it was time to call it a day and he’d spotted what he hoped would be a decent place to hide out. His back was in bits, his legs were probably two inches shorter, and it was so dark now that he was in serious danger of putting a foot wrong and doing himself an injury. And he had no idea if he was within one step or two hundred of an IED. The one good thing was that Mike had passed out, the only sign that he was still alive being the warmth of his breath against Liam’s arm.

  Placing him on the ground, Liam stretched out his back then crept over to where they were going to hide. If it was crap, it would still have to do. They could go no further.

  It was a patch of bush so thick he couldn’t find a way in, but he had to work something out because staying out in the open was just plain stupid. Quickly he pulled out his knife and discovered that its razor-like blade cut through the bush with ease. Within minutes, Liam had carved out a tunnel leading to the centre of the bush, which to his surprise was a lot less thick. Clearing an area for them to kip down on, he slipped back out for Mike, then dragged him into the centre of the bush, laying him down on some dried leaves he’d managed to collect from around and about. Then he grabbed their kit. The last thing he did was to tie together a great thick bunch of the bits he’d cut from the bush. Then as he slipped back in to lie beside Mike, he pulled it in behind him, effectively bunging up the entrance. Liam had no idea if it would work, or if it was just wishful thinking, but it was the best he could come up with and, with the cover of darkness, at least they’d be hidden until first light.

  Getting his head down, he thought it would be impossible to sleep, what with everything that had happened and was happening right now. But when he woke hours later to a sky just colouring with the morning, he was both surprised and pleased. Not only had he slept, but he felt refreshed for it. Now, though, they had to move.

  Sitting up, Liam gave Mike a nudge. The soldier groaned, opened his eyes. He was pale, almost to the point of being grey. Liam checked him over again, changed his bandages, cleaned the wound as best he could, and topped up Mike’s dose of painkillers. He then forced him to get some food down his neck. It wasn’t much, just a pouch of burger and beans from a twenty-four-hour ration pack they all carried, washed down with water, but they both needed the energy for whatever the day ahead held for them.

  A sound froze Liam’s blood, and he looked at Mike, whose eyes were wide and white and staring.

  ‘Don’t move,’ whispered Liam, and slowly, carefully, shuffled so that he could stare out through the bush and see what had made the sound.

  The first thing he noticed was that his hideout for the night had been a good choice. He could hardly see out, which meant that anyone looking in would be hard pushed to spot them. And his bunging up of their entrance had also worked well. But he had no time to feel smug. He still hadn’t worked out what had made the sound.

  It came again, closer this time. A dull, metallic ringing. Then Liam saw the source of the sound: a couple of goats, and behind them a small boy. He must’ve been no older than eight, thought Liam, as the boy drew closer.

  ‘What is it?’ Mike whispered.

  Liam held up a hand to shush him.

  The goats came closer. Liam willed them to continue on, but they didn’t. A few steps more and they were munching on the bush, right where Liam and Mike had crept in.

  The boy approached. He couldn’t see them, Liam was sure of it. But then something caught the boy’s attention. He shuffled closer to the bush, crouched down, then reached out a hand and touched the paracord Liam had used to tie together the plug of bush he’d dragged in after them.

  The boy looked up and stared right into Liam’s eyes.

  24

  ‘SHOOT HIM . . .’

  Liam looked across at Mike, whose eyes were filled not just with fear, but with a calculated coldness.

  ‘You have to shoot him, Liam,’ Mike repeated. ‘It’s him or us.’

  Liam shook his head. He knew that if the boy ran home, they’d be pinged in minutes, and the Taliban would come down on them hard and fast. There would be no escape. He also knew there was no way in hell he could kill an innocent kid.

  ‘You know what will happen to us if you’re caught, don’t you, Liam?’ Mike continued, propping himself up on his arm. ‘There will be no chance of escape. And the last thing anyone will see of us is a little home-made movie of our deaths.’

  Liam turned back to the boy. He was still staring, but he didn’t look exactly afraid; more intrigued.

  ‘I’m not going to shoot him,’ said Liam. ‘So you can just shut that idea down right now.’

  ‘You’ve no choice,’ said Mike, but Liam was ignoring him and instead pushing out the thick plug of bush to go and see the boy.

  The boy backed off, but his goats were more inquisitive and took a nibble of Liam’s trousers.

  Liam forced himself to remember the few words of Pashto he’d learned over the past weeks.

  ‘Salaam alaikum,’ he said, and smiled.

  The boy smiled.

  Well, that’s hello, thought Liam and said, ‘Zma num Liam.’

  ‘Salaam, Liam,’ said the boy, then pointed at Mike. Liam hadn’t a clue what he said next, so he just answered in English and attempted to mime how Mike had been injured.

  The boy nodded, and Liam thought that his face looked too serious for someone his age. He briefly wondered just what the boy had already seen in so few years of being alive.

  One of the goats nudged the boy. Liam stared at him, half expecting him to run screaming back the way he came. But instead, the boy smiled, waved, and just walked on by. Liam watched him go, relief overwhelming him.

  ‘You’re an idiot,’ said Mike, his voice hoarse with pain. He was sweating too, and not just from the heat already creeping through the morning.

  Liam didn’t respond. Whatever Mike thought of him now, it couldn’t be any worse than before. And there was no way he was going to put a bullet in a kid; not unless the kid was firing a weapon at him.

  But the boy had found them and that was enough – they had to get out and move position. Liam was nervous about moving at all, though; without the cover of at least a dull evening, if not the thick darkness of night, they’d be much easier to spot. But they had no choice, couldn’t risk staying put.

  He sorted their kit out then looked at Mike. ‘We’ve got to go,’ he said, making it clear from the off that there was no arguing. ‘We’ll stick to gullies and ditches as best we can. As soon as we find a place to hide out in, we’ll get out of sight.’

  ‘We’re fucked,’ said Mike, his voice sounding as bruised as the rest of his body. ‘What’s the point?’

  Liam seethed with anger. ‘The point,’ he snarled, leaning in close to Mike, ‘is that no matter how much of a complete and total fucking arsehole you are, I’m not going to let you sodding well die on me!’

  Mike shook his head and sneered.

  ‘Dan is dead,’ said Liam, grabbing Mike and forcing him to listen. ‘And I’ll always blame myself for it. Cameron is dead, and I couldn’t save him either. And now, whether I like it or not, with you I’ve got a chance. So deal with it!’

  Liam poked his head out of the bush to check that they were OK. He eyed a gully they could get to, which led to good cover further on, then dragged Mike out, hoisted him onto his shoulders and headed off.

  The gully was deep and once they were in it, they were completely hidden. It was a small consolation for moving in the light of day, and with each step Liam took, he became more and more conscious that the Taliban would still be out looking for them. And then there was the boy, but he couldn’t afford to think about it; he still stood by his decision not to shoot him.

  Carrying all the kit, and Mike too, Liam was forced to take regular stops. He rationed the water, but knew it wouldn’t last much longer. Then it would be down to
finding some that didn’t look too hideous and dropping in some purifying tablets, which made it taste even worse, but he knew it would prevent them from dying of a deadly case of the shits.

  Come the afternoon, Liam guessed he must have moved them four or five miles at least, but he was exhausted and couldn’t go on much further. Even worse, he’d checked Mike’s wounds and they were beginning to fester. The heat wasn’t helping and he was running out of bandages. But he still wasn’t about to give up. Like he’d said to Mike, he’d seen two people die and been unable to do anything about either of them. This time was going to be different. It just had to be.

  At long last, evening rolled in and Liam was relieved that they’d somehow managed to avoid any contact. He didn’t know whether to be relieved or disturbed, and wondered if the Taliban were just playing with them, tracking them for fun. One thing he was sure about, though, was that neither of them would last much longer. All the time they were moving, he was trying to keep them heading in the right direction, but he couldn’t go on indefinitely. Thinking back to the flight out on the Chinook, it was almost impossible to have a clear idea of just how far they’d come. Liam was pinning his hopes on little more than being spotted by friendly forces, running into a patrol out searching for them. It wasn’t much, but it was all he had.

  With Mike resting on the ground, Liam took stock of where they were and where they could move to – which, judging by Mike’s present state, wouldn’t be much further.

  ‘There’s a compound about half a mile away,’ Liam said. ‘Looks deserted.’

  ‘They all look deserted,’ said Mike. ‘Right up until the moment you walk in and find yourself in the middle of a Taliban board meeting.’

  ‘This one’s hardly standing,’ said Liam. ‘Place is more rubble than anything else. But it’ll give us somewhere to lie low.’

  ‘To what end?’ asked Mike. ‘What’s your plan, Liam? To walk me all the way back to Camp Bastion? I’ll be dead within days, we both know it.’

  ‘They’ll be out looking for us,’ Liam replied.

  ‘So are the Taliban,’ said Mike.

  ‘Well, it’s the best chance we’ve got. We just have to make sure we get found by our side first.’

  Mike was quiet as Liam picked him up again. As Liam walked, Mike moaned with every step, but Liam didn’t stop – he had to get them to the ruined compound. There was no other cover out here, and despite wanting to move at night, he knew that neither of them could go on.

  When they arrived at the ruined buildings, it was clear that the place had been left to rot into the ground. It was a large structure, with numerous little sections all divided by walls competing with each other to crumble to the ground first, but the only tracks Liam could see were those of animals, and from the evidence in front of him the only reason they used it was to have a crap.

  ‘I know we should keep moving,’ said Liam, checking Mike over again, ‘but it’s too dangerous. We’ve no idea where we’re going and it’s only going to be so long before we find another IED.’

  Mike nodded, tried to speak, but winced.

  ‘Pain’s getting worse, isn’t it?’

  Mike nodded again and for a moment Liam thought he was about to pass out. Then he rolled forwards, falling onto his left-hand side. Liam only just managed to catch his head before it crunched into a large rock. Even though his muscles were already starting to seize up on him, Liam forced himself to get Mike into as comfortable a position as possible. That done, he sorted himself somewhere to lie down, checked again that they were hidden from view and closed his eyes.

  A scream tore through Liam’s head and he was woken immediately to an early dawn. It was Mike. He was sitting bolt upright and yelling out like he was being pushed through a wood shredder.

  Liam grabbed him, wrapping his hands round Mike’s mouth to shut him up.

  ‘The hell you doing?’ he hissed. ‘Shut up! Shut up! Shut up!’

  Mike struggled, kept screaming, squirming to get out of Liam’s grip. Then he lashed out and caught Liam hard across the cheek. It stung and Liam lost his grip.

  Mike, free of Liam, made to stand. As he did so, he collapsed back down with a bone-breaking thud that only served to make him scream even louder.

  Liam didn’t know what to do, or what was wrong. He grabbed at Mike, tried to calm him, but nothing worked. Mike’s eyes were staring into another world and Liam knew that wherever he was, it wasn’t in the here and now.

  Desperate now, and scared, Liam slapped Mike hard in the face. ‘Shut up! Just bloody well shut up!’

  He slapped him again and Mike fell away from the strike, his scream knocked back to a tearful whimper.

  Then, when Liam was about to ask what the hell he’d been thinking, he heard another sound. Voices.

  And they were right outside the compound.

  25

  LIAM DROPPED TO Mike’s side, pinned a hand over his mouth and hissed at him to be quiet. This time, Mike understood.

  The footsteps were drawing closer, scuffling along in the dirt. The voices were speaking Pashto. Liam prayed they were just farmers. But if they were, why were they out in the dark? What were they doing?

  They were so close now he was sure they could hear him breathing. A flickering light cut through the gloom of the dawn, and a few seconds later Liam smelled cigarette smoke in the air. It reminded him of Jason.

  The voices started up again. From what Liam could hear from where he and Mike were lying, there were two of them. He just had no idea who or what they were. And that was the problem.

  With little left that he could do, Liam kept Mike low and quiet. He relaxed his grip and found Mike’s SA80. He also found Mike’s pistol and slipped it into Mike’s hand with a nod. Like his own, it was an Army issue Browning High Power 9mm. Firing one was nothing like in the movies, where you could hit a moving target a hundred metres away. The kick from the pistol was hefty, but at close range it could stop a grown man dead.

  Mike acknowledged Liam’s actions, and for the first time Liam sensed that they were actually on the same side. Still, he hoped that what he was preparing for – a close-quarter scrap – could be avoided, and the two men would move off.

  A laugh bounced out and was followed by the faint red glow of a cigarette ember being flicked high into the air. It flew over Liam, landing just a few metres short of Mike’s face. And there it slowly died.

  More movement, more footsteps. They were getting closer. Liam slipped his pistol up towards his chest and slowly and silently made the weapon ready. Then he eased it further up into the best possible firing position he could manage. It wasn’t great, but it would have to do. He held his breath as a shadow swept into view not more than a metre away. Then he heard a familiar sound. Whoever the man was, he was now taking a leak. And he was close enough for some of it to splash against Liam and Mike. Liam was repelled by the sensation of it, and the smell, but he held it together, focused on keeping his breathing slow and steady, staying calm.

  The man finished taking a slash and, without moving, lit another cigarette.

  The flickering flame of the match the man used to touch the end of the tobacco was just enough to cast an orange glow over Liam and Mike’s hiding place and turn the morning’s gloom into a dull light. For a split second, Liam and the man stared at each other, both equally shocked. For Liam, though, the only thing he saw was the AK47 hanging at the man’s side. And as the man made to pull the weapon up into position to shoot, Liam raised the pistol and fired three shots in rapid succession. The man dropped like he’d just taken a sledgehammer to the skull, toppling forward to smash what was left of his head open on the rocks between him and Mike. But Liam was given no time to process what had happened as another shadow appeared in front of them, only this one had his weapon up and was firing as he came in. But he had no idea what he was firing at, and thanks to the muzzle flash on the AK47 in his hands, Liam and Mike were able to pick him out easily. They both fired and the man dropped, just like his
friend, dead before he’d hit the ground.

  ‘Thanks,’ said Liam, without even looking to Mike.

  ‘Too close,’ said Mike. ‘Sure they were alone?’

  Liam, pleased to see some spark in Mike again, said, ‘I only heard two voices.’

  ‘I don’t believe they were just out here on their own,’ said Mike. ‘We have to move. Immediately.’

  Liam agreed and scrambled to his feet, only to hear gunfire and drop to the ground again.

  Rounds came in, thumping into the wall they were crouched behind. Then the firing stopped and they both heard footsteps.

  Liam replaced the magazine in the SA80 as two more figures appeared in front of him. He opened up on them and they fell back the way they’d come in, rounds slamming into their chests, stopping them dead.

  ‘This is it,’ said Mike, though Liam noticed there was little emotion in his voice. He was just stating a fact, plain and simple.

  ‘It’s not over yet.’

  Mike said, ‘You’re a stubborn bastard, Liam, I’ll give you that. But I don’t think waiting for the fat lady to sing is going to make any difference.’

  More rounds came in, but this time from a different position. Somewhere in the compound itself.

  Liam and Mike returned fire, neither exactly sure what they were shooting at.

  ‘We’re surrounded,’ said Mike.

  ‘Then why hasn’t someone just dropped a grenade in our laps?’ asked Liam. ‘It’s easy enough, given where we are.’

  ‘No idea,’ said Mike. ‘Not that it matters.’

  Liam wasn’t so sure. ‘If we were dealing with a load of Taliban fighters, they’d just storm us, wouldn’t they? There’s only two of us and they’d overcome us easy.’

  ‘What’s your point?’ asked Mike, as another blast of gunfire scattered hot metal into the walls around them.

  ‘My point,’ said Liam, ‘is that I don’t think there are many more to deal with. What grenades have you got?’

  Mike handed over the four he had with him. ‘You can’t just lob them and hope for the best,’ he said. ‘But best of luck if that’s what you’re going to do.’