As Gray’s watch ticked over to a quarter to one in the morning he tapped Smart on the shoulder and began to make his way towards Farzad Shah’s house. He dropped to the ground after twenty yards and fixed his rifle on the building while Smart leapfrogged him, then repeated the manoeuvre until they were within a hundred yards of the target. They waited there, scanning the house for signs that they’d been spotted, but it remained shrouded in darkness. They probably had black curtains to prevent the light from escaping, but that would work both ways. If Gray couldn’t see in, they couldn’t see out.
‘We’re a hundred yards out… going in now.’
Levine replied with two clicks, and Gray set off at a fast crouch. When he reached the front door Smart was a second behind him, his shotgun out and ready. Gray stood aside and readied a grenade, then gave Smart the signal to kick things off.
Two Booms in quick succession shattered the silence as Smart blew the door off its hinges. He kicked the remains inwards and Gray threw his grenade into the opening. A second later, another thunderous explosion rocked the wall Gray was leaning against. He stepped inside while the sound was still reverberating around the room, and was welcomed by a thick cloud of dust. Gray stepped away from the doorway so as not to present an inviting target just as a volley from deep inside the room flew past his head. Gray answered with a three-round burst, and heard the satisfying sound of screams and a body thudding to the floor.
Smart also opened up, hitting a man who had run into the room with a Kalashnikov up to his shoulder. The man crumpled to the floor without managing to get a shot off.
More AK-47 fire was heard from another room, and Gray knew that Levine had sneaked inside while everyone was pre-occupied with the frontal assault.
Gray indicated a doorway and pulled a grenade from his webbing. Using sign language, he instructed Smart to go in first and take the left. As soon as they heard the explosion, both men piled in. Gray saw a figure on the ground, blood seeping from numerous shrapnel wounds. He put a round in the back of his head to make sure he was out of the fight.
More gunfire erupted from another room, then quickly died away.
‘Report,’ Gray said into his mic.
‘Two down,’ Levine replied as he stepped into the hallway.
With the three Gray and Smart had killed, it meant three more were left. Somewhere.
They quickly cleared the remaining rooms on the ground floor, then headed for the stairs.
‘Send a grenade up,’ Gray whispered to Smart. Then he stepped forward and fired a few rounds towards the top of the stairs.
The big man unhooked one and tossed it up to the landing at the top of the steps. It bounced once, then fired hot metal fragments in all directions. Gray was on his way up before the ricochets had died away, and he saw that only two bad guys remained.
He stepped over the shredded corpse and told Levine to cover the stairs to the top floor. Gray and Smart then headed for the first door on the right just as a figure stepped out of another room and opened fire on them. Bullets pierced the wall next to Gray, but they stopped short when Smart sent three rounds into the Afghan.
One to go.
None of the dead were Farzad Shah, so the main prize still eluded them.
‘We’ve got a runner,’ Sonny said over the air. ‘Guy climbing out of the rear window, top floor. He’s using a rope.’
‘It has to be Shah,’ Gray replied, running back towards the stairs. ‘We need him alive.’
‘Roger that. I’ll slow him down.’
Gray raced down to the ground floor and out the back of the building just as the last of the Taliban sprinted into the darkness. He was heading for one of the outbuildings, but stopped dead when Sonny put a round into the ground just in front of him. He turned and saw Gray chasing after him, then started running again.
He didn’t get far. Sonny was done with warning shots—the next round buried itself in his foot. The man crashed to the ground screaming, and Gray was on him seconds later. After a cursory pat down, he flipped the injured man onto his front and pulled his arms behind his back. By this time Smart and Levine had joined Gray, and between them they applied plastic cuffs and turned him onto his back so that they could do a proper search for weapons. They found only a knife, which Sonny confiscated.
‘It’s Shah alright,’ Smart said. He pulled out a roll of tape and covered Shah’s mouth. Then Levine took a black nylon bag from a pocket in his webbing. He put it over the struggling Shah’s head and pulled the noose tight.
‘Let’s get moving,’ Gray said. ‘They might have called it in.’
Shah cried out as they hoisted him to his feet. He tried to collapse to the ground, but Gray and Smart held an arm each and kept him upright.
‘You don’t wanna walk, fine.’
They let him go limp, then began to drag him. Shah fought their efforts, and Gray knew it would be a long journey back to the transport if he kept it up.
‘Do the honours, Len.’
Smart pulled back his arm and delivered a hammer blow to Shah’s temple. The prisoner immediately sagged, and Smart threw him over his shoulder. Fortunately, Shah wasn’t a big man.
Gray reported in, informing Captain Russell they had their prize, but that he needed medical attention. The CO said he would send the bird out to pick them up.
Shah was still out when they reached the vehicles, and Gray cut the plastic cuffs and placed the unconscious man on the back of Sonny’s Honda. He then wrapped Shah’s arms around Sonny’s waist and applied fresh cuffs. It should only take them around twelve minutes to reach the LZ—Gray hoped the prisoner wouldn’t wake before they got there. Just in case, Gray let Smart take point and rode at the back so that he could keep an eye on Sonny and his baggage.
They got to the landing zone a few minutes ahead of the chopper. Gray waited until he could hear the sound of the rotors slicing through the night air before cutting Shah’s restraints and pulling him off the back of Sonny’s bike. The Taliban leader groaned as Gray dumped him on the ground.
The moment the Chinook touched down, Smart and Sonny rode their bikes up the ramp, then ran back to collect Shah while Gray drove his own bike aboard the aircraft. A deck hand took the Honda from him and started to secure it as the ramp began to rise and the chopper lifted into the air.
‘Finally got one,’ Smart said, wiping his brow with the sleeve of his jacket.
‘Maybe it’ll be enough to get us a day off,’ Sonny said with a resigned smile.
‘Dream on. We’ll be the golden boys and get every mission going.’
That suited Gray down to the ground. There was nothing to do in camp, anyway—it wasn’t as if they could walk into town to enjoy a few cold beers and the delights of the local girls. As the adrenalin from the battle wore off, a wave of fatigue washed over him. All he was interested in right now was a shower and bed.
It was a short flight back to the base, and Captain Russell had arranged for a pair of medics to take Farzad Shah off their hands. The CO himself was there, and he grabbed Gray as soon as he deplaned.
‘We’ve got a major problem.’
Russell wasn’t one for histrionics, so Gray knew it must be serious. ‘What is it?’
‘Josh Miller’s patrol got hit about an hour ago. We sent a chopper out when he called it in, but there’s no sign of anyone. It looks like one dead, but we need to send a team out to take a look.’
‘We’re ready to go,’ Gray said, his weariness immediately evaporating.
‘Good. The other two patrols are still out, so it’s just you four. I’ve readied a Land Rover. It’s waiting for you.’
‘Give us five minutes to grab some gear,’ Gray said, before he ran off to fill the others in.
Three minutes later, they were driving out of the camp gates, their water and ammo replenished and fresh batteries in their NVGs.
No-one said a word during the journey. They all knew that there was little chance of finding anyone alive, and their thoughts were wit
h those who might have been captured. The Taliban were not great advocates of the Geneva Convention, and Gray had heard the horror stories of what happened to soldiers who went missing. Many were found without heads or limbs, and a few were found with their skin flayed from their bodies—presumably while still alive.
‘Two minutes,’ Smart said as he studied the GPS in his hand.
Usually that signal would have put Gray on alert, but he’d been that way since they left the camp. As they approached the base of the mountain—tall, dark and menacing—a chill came over him.
‘Pull over,’ Gray said to Sonny, who pressed on the brake.
Gray got out and surveyed the area. As the sun breached the horizon, he could see the outline of Miller’s upturned vehicle in the distance, but the rest of the area looked clear.
That didn’t mean they were alone.
‘Sonny… give us a fifty-yard start, then tail us. Carl, with me.’
Levine got out and set off beside Gray, allowing twenty yards between them. Both had an eye out for threats from the hills as well as underfoot.
Gray took them off-road where there was less likelihood of encountering another IED. He kept a decent pace, but not so fast that he might miss a tell-tale mound or patch of disturbed earth.
When he eventually got to the wreck it was worse than first thought. The body of Mick Donaldson had already attracted a swarm of flies, and another cloud of them was gathered inside the roll cage of the Land Rover. Gray stuck his head inside and saw an arm with a dagger tattoo. Paul Simmons, or Simmo. And from the discolouration, it was clear he’d been dead for some time.
Gray checked the vehicle for booby-traps, then radioed the team in. When he was done with that call he walked around the vehicle while he contacted the CO. On the ground he could see dozens of footprints, as well as blood trails.
‘Mick and Simmo are dead. No sign of Josh or Billy. Looks like they were taken away.’
‘Roger that. Can you bring the bodies home?’
‘Affirmative, but I want to follow the tracks and see if we can catch up with them.’
‘That’s a negative. I can’t risk losing a second brick. Bag ‘em up and return to base.’
‘But you know what they’ll be—’
‘I said negative!’ Russell said, finality in his tone.
Gray launched a vicious kick at the side of the Land Rover, disturbing the flies. They swarmed around him and he walked away, batting them away as best he could.
There was a strong temptation to disobey the captain’s orders and go and find his friends. He’d passed selection at the same time as Josh Miller and aside from being an excellent soldier, he was a top bloke. What really choked Gray was the fact that Josh was married, with a three-year-old daughter. Gray knew Karen Miller well—it was going to break his heart to visit her once he rotated back home. But the CO was right. The Taliban would be long gone by now, and even if they managed to track them they would be heavily outnumbered judging by the number of footprints he’d seen around the vehicle.
‘What did Russell say?’ Smart asked.
‘We grab these two and head home.’
‘What about Billy and Josh?’ Sonny asked.
‘They’re gone, and you know it. Let’s get to work.’
Gray went back to the Land Rover to fetch the body bags, then rejoined the others. They wrapped Mick Donaldson in his plastic shroud and, together, they pushed the overturned vehicle onto its side and retrieved what was left of Simmo’s body. They worked in silence, no-one commenting on the state of the deceased.
Chapter 15
Gray woke from a troubled sleep and looked at his watch. It was just after ten in the morning, barely three hours after he’d hit the sack. But he couldn’t face any further dreams.
He got up and threw on a T-shirt and a pair of shorts, then went for a wakeup run.
It was still hard to believe that Josh and his patrol were gone, and in such terrible circumstances, too.
Simmo had been the lucky one. His death would have been instant, whereas the rest of them… it didn’t bear thinking about.
Gray tried to put them out of his mind, but part of him wouldn’t let go. He hated himself for not trying to track his friends down, for giving up on them so easily. Josh wouldn’t have listened to the captain; he would have cut comms and followed the tracks until he either rescued his brothers in arms or died trying.
As Gray began his second circuit, Sonny fell in step.
‘Couldn’t sleep either?’
Gray shook his head. ‘Don’t think I will for a long time.’
Sonny looked at his sergeant as they jogged past a row of tents. ‘It’s not like they were the first dead bodies you’ve seen.’
‘It’s not that. We should have looked for them.’
‘You’d have been RTU’d the minute we got back to base. We all would.’
Sonny was right. All four of them—had they made it back alive—would have been shipped back to Hereford before being returned to their original units. There was no greater shame for a member of the SAS.
‘Besides,’ Sonny continued, ‘you saw how many footprints there were around that Land Rover. There must have been twenty of them at least. We’d have been well outnumbered.’
‘That doesn’t change anything. I feel like a real shit.’
‘You preserved the life of your men when the alternative was to push a bad position, that’s all you did. You can’t beat yourself up about it, Tom.’
But Gray knew he would.
After finishing his run, Gray hit the shower, then dressed and went to find food.
After loading his plate with sausage, eggs, chips and beans, he found a table and started tucking in. His thoughts immediately turned to Josh Miller, but before he managed to bury himself in self-recrimination, another tray landed opposite to him.
‘Mind if I join you?’
Gray looked up to see Balmer’s huge frame. He was tempted to tell the American to piss off and leave him to wallow in his own self-pity, but that would have been churlish. And the last thing he wanted to do at that moment was fight. Instead, he pointed towards the empty seat with his fork.
‘I heard about your guys,’ Balmer said, slicing off a chunk of steak. ‘That sucks ass, man.’
Not the most eloquent words of commiseration Gray had ever heard, but they summed up his mood perfectly.
‘Thanks,’ Gray said, then stuffed half a sausage into his mouth.
‘When’s the service?’
Gray held up three fingers as he chewed.
Balmer nodded. He put the a thick slice of steak in his mouth and they both chewed in silence for a while.
‘Is this the first time you’ve lost men?’ Balmer eventually asked.
‘As patrol leader, yes. But I lost a couple of mates in Sierra Leone.’
That hadn’t been quite the same. It had hurt to lose friends in battle, but they’d died quickly—one with a bullet to the head, the other ripped apart by a grenade.
They hadn’t been abandoned.
‘Three years ago, I led my team into the White Mountains,’ Balmer said. ‘Tora Bora. We were told Bin Laden was there, and we wanted to be the ones to catch him. Intel said there were hundreds of fighters protecting the caves, but that estimate was way low. I was in charge of seven men, and I sent two ahead to scout out a trail that looked like it hadn’t been used in years. They were maybe a klick ahead of us when the Taliban opened up on them. We ran to their position, but it was too late. We expected a full-on engagement but it was a lightning raid. We found one dead, and the other guy had disappeared. Of course, everyone wanted to go and find him, but I wouldn’t let them. We were on their territory and they knew the landscape well. And if I was in their shoes, I would do what I could to suck us in to a trap.’
‘What happened to him?’ Gray asked.
‘We found him five days later. The B-52s had pounded that hill for three days straight, and by the time we made our way inside the network o
f tunnels there was no-one left alive. What was left of Tarkowski was unrecognisable, so we had no idea what they did to him. I guess that was a blessing.’
Balmer stabbed a carrot with his fork and took a bite. ‘I guess what I’m saying is, you’ve got to see the bigger picture. You probably wanted to hunt them down, but you did the right thing by bringing your men home. There’s nothing you could have done.’
‘I could have at least tried to get a general direction of travel and call in air support.’
‘That’s just what they would have wanted. You’re lucky they didn’t have men waiting for you to show up. No… you did what was best for your team.’ Balmer popped the last of the steak into his mouth and stood, picking up his tray. ‘Take it easy, Gray.’
* * *
The service for the fallen men took place at three that afternoon. Four coffins draped with the Union Jack—two full, two empty—sat on the dusty ground as the remaining twelve men of 8 Troop, plus the CO, stood to attention in front of them. A chaplain borrowed from the NATO-ISAF contingent was to conduct the proceedings.
As they waited for the clergyman to turn up, Gray spotted Balmer and his men. They were decked out in dress uniforms, and marched past the coffins before standing to attention off to the left of the SAS ranks. Gray looked over and caught Balmer’s eye. The American nodded imperceptibly, and Gray returned the gesture.
Moments later, the chaplain arrived. He exchanged whispers briefly with Captain Russell, then launched into his sermon. He spoke of the valour and sacrifice of the fallen, about how their memories would live on forever in the hearts of those touched by their presence
Gray missed most of it. His head was still full of thoughts of Josh and Billy and what they were going through. As much as it hurt, he hoped they were already dead. A quick end was the best they could hope for in their situation, and Gray knew they wouldn’t be afraid of death—few members of the regiment ever were. It came with the territory and was something they faced on every mission. If you let it play on your mind you wouldn’t be able to do the job, period.
Gray Genesis Page 9