Kill or Capture

by Craig Simpson

  Delta Force moved swiftly and silently from one place of cover to the next. Connor and Jacko entered the field of wheat and reached part of the compound’s mud-brick wall that had collapsed. They waited, crouching in the dark. A click in Connor’s ear was followed by Danny’s voice. Team Two had arrived at the rear of the compound. “Roger that. Go!” Connor replied.

  Jacko was first over the wall. On the other side he knelt and swept the compound with his M4. Once over, Connor ran towards a side door in the farmhouse. He noticed the windows had been blacked out. The only sound was the whirr and clatter of an electricity generator in a nearby outhouse. Danny and Ben appeared on the top of the wall at the rear of the compound. They ran along it, stooping to maintain their balance as it rose up a good three metres. When close enough to the farmhouse, they jumped onto the flat roof and prepared to enter through a first-floor window. “Team Two in position, over.”

  Connor checked the doorframe closely for signs of a booby trap, but there was nothing suspicious. He gave the order to enter.

  Ben forced in the window on the first floor and Danny scanned the room. It was clear. Ben quickly climbed through and they began to check the upstairs rooms. At the same time, Jacko entered the dark hallway, crouched down and waved Connor forward. Through their night-vision gear they could see the hallway was empty.

  “Clear! … Clear! … Clear!” It all happened in seconds; crashing doors as they got kicked open, shouting as Danny and Ben checked the upstairs rooms. Jacko and Connor moved fast too, each taking rooms on opposite sides of the hall.

  “Clear!” Connor shouted.

  “Oh, Jeezzuss! In here, major.”

  Connor turned and hurried across the hallway, entering a sparsely furnished room. To his right a TV and DVD player stood on a large box. To his left, Colonel Khalid and Sergeant Baxter were sitting on the floor, propped up against the wall, their decapitated heads resting in their laps.

  Suddenly, the TV burst into life.

  Startled and unnerved Connor and Jacko spun round. “What the…?”

  The TV picture showed Jabir Hassani sitting cross-legged. A cheap motion sensor had been rigged to the DVD player’s “on” switch, triggering the video to start when someone entered the room.

  “First floor secure,” Danny said over the radio.

  “I don’t like this,” Connor snapped, staring at Khalid and Baxter.

  Jabir raised a hand, almost as if waving, and began to speak. “So, we meet again Major Connor.”

  “How the…?” Jacko’s jaw dropped.

  “Sparks! Sam! We’ve been set up. Watch for movement,” Connor barked.

  Jabir leaned forward towards the camera lens and continued. “My sources informed me that Delta Force had been assigned with the rescue attempt. As you can see, I’m afraid you are too late, major. You should have killed me when you had the chance, but you didn’t. And tomorrow the president will die too, major. Of course, I know you’ll try to stop me and you’ll try to protect him. But you will FAIL!”

  “We’re leaving. Now!” Connor shouted. “Team Two fall back to your entry point.”

  On the TV, Jabir continued but no one was watching. He began ranting, repeating his demands, spitting hatred at all non-believers, raging that his Taliban would be victorious in their jihad.

  Connor and Jacko were halfway across the compound when the bomb linked to the DVD player detonated. The explosion flung them to the ground.

  A few hundred metres away, Shafiq crouched behind a dry-stone wall separating two fields of poppies overlooking the compound. He had been watching events unfold through a pair of night-vision binoculars his father had stolen from the ANA. He’d seen soldiers enter. He’d watched the building explode. And now he could hear the rhythmic thwack-thwack of helicopter rotors in the distance. He took his mobile phone from his pocket and dialled.

  “Uncle Jabir, you were right. They did come. The bomb’s exploded but I think they got out alive. Their helicopters are coming for them.”

  Jabir laughed. “No matter. They have been deceived. It is enough of a victory for one day. Tomorrow, they shall all die. Well done, Shafiq. Come and join us. We shall watch them die together.”

  Shafiq put the phone back into his pocket and leapt over the wall. Clambering onto his dirt bike, he kick-started it and gunned the throttle. The buzz of the two-stroke engine echoed through the valley. He switched on the headlamp and headed north, tyres kicking dust. He was looking forward to tomorrow. His uncle’s plan would make headline news around the world. Jabir Hassani would be famous. And he, young Shafiq, had played his part. He felt proud. But as he tore up a rough trail, something bothered him. Despite being certain he’d followed his uncle’s orders precisely, deep down he had the feeling he’d forgotten to do something; something important.

  CHAPTER TEN

  Connor works it out

  Camp Delta

  “There’s a leak. Jabir knew we were assigned to the rescue mission, general,” Connor complained angrily. “Either he’s able to intercept our comms traffic, or some of those ANA who wander in and out of Camp Delta are passing on information.”

  General Patterson squirmed in his chair. “We’ll tighten security.”

  “A bit late for that! And you say the president’s read my report but still insists on delivering his speech this evening. Does he want to die? He’s crazy. Why can’t he make his speech from somewhere else, somewhere safe?”

  Unable to offer an explanation, Patterson shrugged. “At least he’s agreed to wear body armour, and he’ll be surrounded by both our guys and his most trusted bodyguards. Press access is restricted, and we’ll have drones and snipers covering the whole area. When the time comes we’ll also jam all mobile phone signals for a radius of three kilometres, so there’s no chance of remote detonation of a hidden bomb.”

  “It isn’t enough, sir. I know Jabir.”

  “Listen, major, you’re tired and you and your men are beat up. You need to rest. When all is said and done, we can only do so much. The Afghan president accepts that he’s the one making the final call. And, anyway, don’t you think it’s possible that Jabir is messing with us?”

  Exasperated, Connor slammed his fist on the general’s desk, scattering the neatly set out line of pens and pencils. “No. The president’s the target. I’m sure of it.”

  Connor had overstepped the mark. The general’s expression darkened. “You’re dismissed, major. Get some shut-eye. That’s an order. It’s ten o’clock now. We’ll review the latest intel at 1500 hours. The president isn’t making his speech until 1900 hours, so there’s still time to try to figure out exactly what’s going on here.”

  Connor had been to visit Danny and Ben in the medical centre. They’d been pretty knocked about in the bomb blast, but the docs had given them the all-clear for operations. Now he lay on his bunk in his tent. The stifling heat was almost overwhelming and sweat glistened from every pore of his skin. No way could he sleep, despite being exhausted. Tossing and turning, Jabir’s grinning face occupied his thoughts alongside the nightmarish image of the headless corpses of Khalid and Baxter. Over and over, he tried to figure out how Jabir planned to assassinate the Afghan president.

  By revealing the target, Jabir would surely realise that no one could get anywhere near the president. A Taliban sniper would either have to be fantastically well hidden or would be too far away to guarantee the shot. Connor pressed his eyes shut and thought about how he would pull off what seemed impossible.

  His mind drew a blank. So instead he thought of all the audacious things Jabir Hassani had done in the past. He knew Jabir’s career as a Taliban commander had been long and horrifically successful, small raids on ISAF checkpoints being followed by attacks on convoys, FOBs and electricity sub-stations. Finally, Jabir had graduated to major uprisings in towns and cities. Jabir was ambitious. He thought “big”, wanting to make the sort of impact that made headlines; that made the world sit up and pay attention.

  Think big.
Very big. Connor suddenly shot upright. “Of course!”

  Up in a flash, he ran across Camp Delta’s parade ground and crashed through the door to the Ops Room.

  Startled, Lieutenant Sharp jumped in his chair.

  “Show me the visuals from our drones. Those covering where the president’s going to make his speech near the dam,” Connor demanded.

  “Of course, major.” Sharp tapped on his laptop to bring up the live drone camera feeds. “There you go, sir. Actually, I was just about to come and find you.”

  “Why?” Connor asked, only half listening. He was squinting at the laptop’s split screen, which displayed four real-time camera inputs from two separate drones.

  “At about the time of your helo evac in the valley last night, our comms surveillance unit intercepted a mobile phone call originating nearby.”

  “And?”

  “It was to Jabir Hassani. Like to listen to it?”

  Connor stopped what he was doing and nodded. Sharp hit another key on his laptop.

  “……They have been deceived. It is enough of a victory for one day. Tomorrow, they shall all die. Well done, Shafiq. Come and join us. We shall watch them die together.”

  A shiver ran down Connor’s back. “Don’t suppose they got a fix on Jabir’s phone’s location, did they?”

  “Yes. It was to the north. But it’s of no use, sir. He was on the move and the phone was switched off immediately after the call. He could be anywhere by now.”

  “Damn!” Connor tightened his fist.

  Sharp grinned. “But they have managed to track the phone of the sender, the one called Shafiq. He left his phone powered on. He was on the move for three hours. Finally, he stopped here, sir.” He flipped screens to show a map. A blinking red dot marked the location.

  “They’re in the mountains,” Connor observed. “About three kilometres from the Dhala dam.”

  “Yes, major. A splendid panoramic view, I reckon. I’ve asked that a high-altitude Predator drone is diverted to scan the area.”

  Connor nodded. “Good. Yes, it all fits… Get General Patterson and everyone else down here. They’re going to want to hear this.”

  “Hear what exactly, sir?”

  “That I’ve figured it out… Jabir’s going to blow the dam! And as a wall of water pours down towards Kandahar, Jabir will be watching it sweep away the president and everyone else.”

  The blood drained from Sharp’s face. “B—B—But thousands of people will drown. Maybe tens of thousands. There isn’t time to evacuate.”

  “Then we’d better stop it from happening.”

  CHAPTER ELEVEN

  The shahid

  Jabir’s camp, Arghandab valley

  “Come, Shafiq, sit beside me. It is a momentous day. We shall watch history unfold together.”

  Jabir was in an excellent mood. Sitting cross-legged on a plump velvet cushion embroidered with gold thread, he popped a grape into his mouth and gazed down into the valley. Far in the distance, he could just make out the Dhala dam. “Ibrahim, bring me a glass of tea and my binoculars.”

  Shafiq sat down. “Do you think they’ll cancel the president’s speech?”

  “Perhaps, if they are wise. But no matter. The destruction of the dam will proceed and the world will realise that, even after years of war, we Taliban still control our country.”

  It was six o’clock. The sun was low and cast a rich golden glow over the Arghandab valley. Shafiq sighed and then looked all round. “Where’s Father? He will want to watch this too. I haven’t seen him all day.”

  Jabir laughed lightly, reached out and placed a comforting hand on the boy’s shoulder. “You should feel proud. Faisal volunteered to lead my men. Your father — my brother — will soon be making the journey to Paradise.”

  Shafiq frowned. “What do you mean, ‘to Paradise’?”

  Jabir pointed towards the Dhala dam. “He is there. Hiding in the maintenance tunnels. Watching over the explosives. He will detonate them at exactly seven o’clock. But do not worry, Shafiq. Your father will become a shahid, and will pass first through the gates of Paradise.”

  Shafiq leaped to his feet. “No! He can’t! He mustn’t. I don’t want him to die.”

  CHAPTER TWELVE

  Dam raid

  Inside Dhala dam

  The warren of concrete tunnels inside the dam was lit by fluorescent strip lights. Faisal and six of Jabir’s men had been let in the previous morning by a maintenance worker sympathetic to their cause.

  Faisal headed for the level three tunnel. He had been informed that it was perfectly positioned, about two thirds the way down the dam — its weakest point if blown from inside. Faisal directed the men as they stacked the wooden crates of explosives up against the wall. He then took great care inserting the detonator into the priming charge. He ran wires to a battery pack and checked that the circuit worked. It was done. A flick of a switch was all that was needed to detonate a bomb big enough to punch a massive hole in the dam. He knelt and led his men in prayer before sending two of them to guard each end of the tunnel, and the remaining pair to patrol the level above.

  With less than half an hour to go, and having spent the day reading aloud from his Qur’an, Faisal readied himself for his journey to Paradise. He shaved off his beard, then pouring water into a small bowl, he washed his face and hands. He was calm, happy and content.

  Danny grabbed hold of the handle attached to the heavy reinforced steel door. It was located to one side of the dam, and gave access to the heavy machinery controlling the flow of water through the sluice gates. Beyond the room stairwells led into the structure of the dam, and the network of tunnels. He waited for Connor’s signal over the radio. A safe distance away, engineers from bomb disposal readied their equipment. They would enter with a Ranger escort only when Delta Force gave the all clear.

  On top of the dam, Connor, Ben and Sam checked their ropes and climbed over the railings. Leaning back and letting the ropes take the strain, Connor issued the order to move, and together they abseiled rapidly down the dam towards an access grille to level four. At the same time, Danny hauled the door open and quietly slipped inside the control room, with Jacko and Sparks close behind.

  Connor’s boots bounced lightly as he fed metre after metre of rope through his hands and harness. In seconds he’d reached the same height as the grille. It was located close to the sluice gates, where thousands of gallons of water a minute gushed through. It fell to the valley below, feeding the river, canal and irrigation channels. He traversed sideways, skipping over the dam’s smooth concrete. He reached out and grabbed one of the grille’s bars.

  Connor was quickly joined by Ben and Sam. He ignored the spray pounding his face and set about attaching a separate rope to the grille. This would stop it plummeting when removed.

  Meanwhile, Danny made his way swiftly through the control room, only pausing briefly to examine the body of a maintenance worker whose throat had been cut. Surrounded by pipework and whirring machinery, the air was filled with the constant muffled roar of fastflowing water. Jacko and Sparks covered Danny as he hurried to a watertight hatch, which led to level two of the maintenance tunnels and the stairs down.

  Using both hands and all his strength, Danny tried to turn the wheel to unlock the hatch. Stubbornly, it refused to budge. Jacko lent a hand. Between them, they finally got it to yield and they hauled the hatch open. Sparks pointed his silenced M4 through the gap and targeted two insurgents walking towards the door. They were midway along the tunnel. Sparks fired four shots, all hitting their mark, and the Taliban collapsed to the floor.

  Faisal snatched the cloth away from his face. He thought he’d heard something over the constant muffled roar of water. It sounded like men crying out. He reached for his AK-47 and called out to the men guarding the ends of level three.

  “Major,” Danny whispered into his throat mic. “The Taliban are still here. Two targets down in level two tunnel. We’re proceeding down to level three, over
.”

  “Copy that. We’re entering level four, over.”

  The grille now hung from a rope. Sam clambered into the ventilation shaft, followed by Ben. The main access tunnel was empty. “Clear!”

  Connor followed. “Level four clear, Jacko. We’re proceeding up to level three via the mid-tunnel access ladder, over.”

  Faisal was convinced there was a problem, despite his men at either end of level three signalling that all was well. Clutching his rifle he moved over to where an access ladder led to the level below. He leaned forward, peered down and listened. Was that whispering he could hear? Or just water? He glanced at his watch. Ten minutes to go, or, he could blow the dam now. Yes, he thought, blow it now, before it is too late.

  CHAPTER THIRTEEN

  Take down

  At the north end of the dam, Jacko, Danny and Sparks quietly descended the concrete steps. They saw shadows, movement and heard voices speaking Pashto. Without hesitating they advanced, entering level three. A silenced burst of fire from Jacko’s M4 killed both guards at close range.

  It was only the sound of his men falling down that made Faisal turn. American soldiers were in the tunnel! He fired his AK-47 from the hip. A bullet smacked into Sparks’s shoulder and he crumpled to the floor. Jacko dragged him clear of the Taliban’s line of fire. Danny tucked in behind some piping as bullets struck the walls around him. “Target located! Major, looks like the action is on level three! Sparks is down.”

  Danny and Jacko returned fire at the Taliban gunman. The man — Faisal — let out a cry and fell behind a row of crates.