by Andy McNab
There didn't seem to be anyone in or around it, or any sort of movement at the rear of the house. We pushed on.
There were maybe thirty metres to go when I heard the first reports. Not big, inaccurate brass, but single, aimed shots.
"Run!" I yelled.
"Keep going!"
An enormous flock of little multicoloured birds lifted from the canopy.
"Keep going, keep going!" I didn't look behind us; it wouldn't have helped.
Carrie, still gripping her daughter's hand, was focused on the treeline, half dragging Luz along as she shrieked with terror.
The rounds cracked behind us as they went supersonic. My mind was trying to beat them by going at a million miles an hour, but my feet were only taking me at ten.
With maybe twenty metres of open ground left, the rounds finally started to zero in on us. The cracks were accompanied by thuds as they slammed into the mud ahead and to the side of us, until all I could hear was an almost rhythmic crack thump, crack thump, crack thump as they opened up big-time.
"Keep going, keep going!"
They lunged into the jungle, still slightly ahead and to my right.
"Go right, go right!"
Almost at once, I heard a scream. It was a strangulated half gasp, half howl of pain, just metres into the foliage.
More rounds ripped into the jungle, some with a high-pitched ziiinnng as they ricocheted off the trees. I dropped to my hands and knees, gasping for breath.
"Luz! Call to me where are you? Where are you?"
"Mommy, Mommy, Mommy!"
Ziiinnng-ziiinnng... "Luz! Lie down! Keep down! Keep down!"
The single shots now become bursts as I started crawling. The M-16s were firing into the entry points in an effort to hose us down; we needed to move offline to the right, downhill into dead ground. Leaves give cover from view but not fire, dead ground does.
"I'm coming, keep down, lie down!"
Some of them were long bursts, the rounds going high as the weapon barrels kicked up, but some were short, the switched-on guys aiming three and five rounds at a time as I heard a wagon revving up to join in the frenzy.
I covered six or seven metres through the foliage until I found them. Carrie was on her back, panting, eyes wide open, tear-filled and big as saucers, her cargos bloodstained on the right thigh, with what looked like bone pushing at the material. Her injured leg appeared shorter than the other, and the foot was lying flat with the toes pointing outward. A round must have hit her in the femur. Luz was hovering over her, not knowing what to do, just staring openmouthed at her mother's bloodstains.
The rounds had died down for now as the shouts and engine noise got louder.
I grabbed Carrie by the arms and, shuffling on my arse, started to drag her through the leaf litter in the direction of our emergency RV, the corner of the treeline, and into the dead ground. Luz followed on her hands and knees, sobbing loudly.
"Shut up! They'll hear you!"
We only managed five or six metres. Carrie cried out uncontrollably as her injured leg got jarred and twisted, covering her face with her hands in an effort to keep quiet. At least the noise meant she was breathing and could feel pain, both good signs, but the two of them were making such a racket that it was only a matter of time before we were heard.
I jumped up, grabbed Carrie's wrist, and heaved her over my shoulder in a fireman's lift. She screamed as her damaged leg swung free before I held it in place. I pushed through the vegetation with long, exaggerated strides, trying to keep the leg stable with one hand and keeping a tight grip of Luz with the other, sometimes by her hair, sometimes by her clothing, sometimes around her neck, whatever it took to keep us moving together.
The BUBs now sparked up as frenzied shouts and the high revs of the engine came from behind us. Short bursts from M-16s randomly stitched the area. They were at the entry points.
We crashed our way through some more wait-a-while and Carrie's leg got snagged.
She screamed and I half turned, pulled it free, knowing there was a chance that the broken ends of her femur could act like scissors, cutting into muscle, nerves, tendons, ligaments or, worst of all, sever the femoral artery. She'd be history in minutes if that happened. But what else could I do?
We crashed on, and began a gentle decent. I guessed we were about level with the heli in the clearing to my right. I could still hear people hosing the place down behind us, but the jungle was soaking up a lot of it and we seemed to be out of the initial danger area.
The BUBs reminded me I'd have to stop soon and sort out Carrie. I needed that last precious light.
I pushed towards the treeline until I could see the beginning of the open ground, then dragged Luz back with me so we were just behind the wall of green.
At last I was able to lay Carrie down, making sure as I did so that her feet were pointing at the treeline.
The M-16s only fired sporadically now, up on the higher ground, though there was still a lot of vehicle noise and shouting up and down the treeline. I didn't care: if there were any dramas we'd just drag further back in. The priority now was sorting her out.
Carrie lay on her back taking short, sharp breaths, her face contorted. I joined in with her pattern of breathing as I tried to get my breath back. Luz was bent over her on her knees. I gently straightened her.
"You've got to help your mum and me. I need you to kneel there, behind me. If anyone comes you just turn round and give me a tap not a shout, just a tap, OK? Will you do that?"
Luz looked at her mother, then back at me.
"That's good this is really important." I positioned her behind me, facing the treeline, then turned to Carrie. No way were we going to be walking out of here, but that wasn't my major concern: sorting her out was.
She fought the pain through gritted teeth. There was blood. Her femoral artery wasn't cut or lit res of the stuff would have been pouring out over her leg, but if she kept leaking like this she would eventually go into shock and die. The bleeding had to be stopped and the fracture immobilized.
Not even bothering to explain what I was up to, I got down at her feet and started to work with my teeth at the frayed hem of her cargos. I made a tear, gripped both sides of it, and ripped the material upwards. As the injury was exposed I saw that she hadn't been shot. She must have fallen badly and overstressed the femur: the bone was sticking out of what looked like a rack of raw, blood-soaked beef. But at least there was muscle there to contract, it hadn't been shot away.
I tried to sound upbeat.
"It's not so bad."
There was no reply, just very rapid breathing.
With military casualties in the field I had always found it better to take the piss, not feed their worries. But this felt different: I wanted to reassure her, to make her feel OK.
"It looks a lot messier than it is. I'll make sure it doesn't get worse, then get you to a doctor. It'll be fine."
With her head tilted back she seemed to be looking up at the canopy. Her face was fixed in a terrible grimace, eyes screwed tight.
I cleared some leaf litter that had stuck to the sweat on her forehead and whispered into her ear, "Really, it's not that bad ... it's a clean break. You haven't lost that much blood, but I've got to fix it so the bone doesn't move about and cause any more damage. It's going to hurt more while I sort it out you know that, don't you?"
I caught sight of Luz, who was still in position on her knees, looking back at us. I gave her the thumbs up, but all I got in return was a fleeting, tearstained half-smile.
Carrie's chest heaved up and down as she sucked in air, quietly screaming to herself as she took the pain.
"Carrie, I need you to help me, will you do that, will you help me? I want you to hold on to the tree behind you when I say, OK?"
Forcing the words out haltingly through the tears, she sobbed, "Get on with it."
There was a burst of fire further up the treeline. Luz flinched and looked back.
I held up both my hands
and mouthed to her, "It's OK, it's OK."
The firing stopped and Luz turned back to her task. The BUBs echoed about us in the fading light as I gently eased Carrie's inch-wide webbing belt through the hoops of her cargos and put it down by her feet. Then I took off my sweatshirt, knowing I was sentencing myself to being one big mozzie banquet.
I ripped a sleeve away from its stitching. Carrie's eyes were closed, her lips quivering, as I started pulling on the large waxy leaves that drooped down about us. In a minute, I'm going to move your good leg next to your bad one. I'll do it as carefully as I can."
Rolling up the leaves into big cigar shapes, I gently packed them all the way down between her legs, to act as padding between the good leg and the bad. I carried on as the odd Spanish shout penetrated the canopy, then picked up her good leg.
"Here we go, here we go." She was breathing as rapidly as if she was giving birth. I brought it gently over towards her injured one, just as the first splatter of rain hit the canopy. I didn't know whether to laugh or cry.
Luz moved back to me on her knees.
"It's raining, what do we do?"
I shrugged.
"Get wet."
Carrie's features twisted again in agony. As rain tumbled on to her face she held out her hand for Luz to grasp, and mother and daughter whispered to each other. I needed Luz on stag. I signalled that I wanted her to move, and she shuffled back to her post.
I pushed the sleeve through the mud below Carrie's knees and laid it out flat, then frantically ripped the rest of the now soaking-wet sweatshirt into strips to improvise bandages.
"Nick, the ship ..."
The ship has to wait."
I carried on ripping and tearing as the rain notched itself up to monsoon strength. I couldn't even hear the BUBs any more, or the people in the open ground if they were still there.
I leant over her, right up to her ear.
"I need you to bring your hands back and grab hold of the tree behind you."
There was a deep rumble of thunder directly above us as I guided her hands round the thin trunk, debating whether or not to explain what I was going to do with her next.
"Grip hard and don't let go, no matter what."
I decided against it; she was in enough pain without anticipating more.
I crawled back down to her feet and fed the belt under both her ankles, digging into the mud so I didn't move her damaged leg any more than I had to. Then, kneeling in front of her, I gently picked up the foot of the injured leg between my hands, the right supporting her heel and the other on her toes.
Her whole body tensed.
"It's going to be OK, just keep hold of that tree. Ready?"
Slowly but firmly, I pulled her foot towards me. I rotated it as gently as I could, stretching the injured leg out straight to stop the taut muscles from displacing the bone any more and, I hoped, bring some relief from the pain. It wasn't easy, there was a lot of thigh muscle to pull against. Every movement must have felt like a stab from a red hot knife. She gritted her teeth and for a long time didn't make a sound, then finally it all became too much. She screamed as her body jerked, but didn't release her grip as the exposed bone started to retract from the open wound.
Rain fell in torrents and more thunder rumbled across the darkening sky as I continued with the traction. She screamed again and her body convulsed as I sat down, pulling her leg with all my weight.
"Nearly there, Carrie, nearly there ..."
Luz came running over and joined in the sobs. It was understandable, but I didn't need it. I hissed at her, "Shut up!" There was no other way that I could think of, but it just made her worse. She whimpered again, and this time I just let her get on with it.
My hands were busy and I couldn't cover her mouth. I couldn't let go because the muscle contraction would pull it back in again and cause more damage.
I started to feed the canvas belt over Carrie's ankles with my left hand, and then over her sandal led feet in a figure of eight.
"Keep your good leg straight, Carrie, keep it straight!" Then I pulled back on the ends of the belt to keep everything in place, tying a knot with the belt still under tension to keep her feet together.
Carrie had been jerking like an epileptic, but still held on to the tree and, more importantly, kept her good leg straight.
"It's OK, OK. It's done."
As I knelt up Luz fell on top of her mother. I tried to get her off.
"Let her breathe." But they weren't having any of it, clutching each other tight.
It was getting so dark I could hardly see beyond the two of them now, and the fracture still had to be immobilized so it couldn't do any more damage. I gently folded over the sweatshirt sleeve lying under her knees and tied the ends together with the knot on the side of her good knee. Large lumps of bright green leaf protruded between her legs now that they were getting strapped together.
I placed strips of sweatshirt firmly and carefully over the wound. I fed the material under her knees and then worked it up before tying off on the side of the good leg. I wanted to immobilize the fracture, and put pressure on the wound to stem the blood loss.
Rain cascaded down, blurring my vision as it ran into my eyes. I was working virtually by feel as I tied off the other sleeve round her ankles, adding more support to the canvas belt.
I stayed sitting at Carrie's feet, almost shouting to make myself heard above the rain. TMow you can give me my Scout's first-aid badge."
All I had to do now was make sure that the sweatshirt wasn't tied too tight. I couldn't tell if the blood supply was reaching below the ties; without light I couldn't see if the skin was pink or blue, and finding the pulse was a nightmare. There was really only one option.
"If you feel pins and needles, you've got to tell me, OK?"
I got a short, sharp "Yep!"
I couldn't even see my hand in front of my face now as I checked Baby-G. The dial illuminated and it was 6.27. Just behind me, I could hear both of them crying, even above the drumming on the vegetation.
I was starting to feel cold. Not too sure where their heads were, I called out into the darkness, "You two must keep physical contact with each other all the time. You must each know where the other is all the time never let go of each other." I put my hand out and felt wet material: it was Luz's back as she cuddled her mother.
No way were we walking out of here. What the fuck was there to do now? I didn't really know. Well, actually I did, but I was trying to deny it. That was probably what was making me feel cold.
I was kneeling there in the rain when I heard Luz speak up.
"Nick?"
I tapped my hand on her back to acknowledge her.
'You going to get Daddy now?"
THIRTY-SIX
It seemed I had come to that bridge.
I'll be no more than a couple of hours."
She wasn't wearing a watch, but some kind of timing would be something to cling on to.
"Eight thirty, Nick, eight thirty..." Carrie fought between short, sharp breaths, as if I needed reminding.
"If I'm not back by first light," I said, 'you need to get out into the open ground and make yourself known. You'll need taking care of. Once the weather clears they can use the heli to get you to hospital." Maybe, maybe not: I didn't know what they'd do, but there was no other way if I didn't return.
Going back to the house had been a simple choice to make. Carrie needed medical attention. I needed a wagon to get her to Chepo. I had to go and get one, and that meant getting Aaron out of there too. Stealing a wagon in the middle of the night, then picking Carrie up so close to the house was a no-no: it simply wouldn't work. I needed to have control of the house and the people in it first.
I didn't know if it was the physical pain, or the realization that what I'd just talked about was a contingency plan for if Aaron and I were both dead, but she let out a loud sob. Rain drummed on Luz's back as she knelt over her mother and joined in. I just let them get on with it, not really know
ing what else to do while I
tried to think through what I'd do once I was at the house without coming up with much.
I checked Baby-G: 6.32. Less than two hours till Aaron's bluff was called.
I felt my knees sinking into the mud. 'I'll see you both soon. In fact, I won't see you, I'll hear you ..." I gave a weak laugh.
I drew an imaginary straight line down her body to her feet. She hadn't shifted position since I'd laid her down, so I knew that that was the way to the treeline. I started crawling, feeling my way over the wet leaf litter, and soon emerged into the open ground.
There was an immediate difference in the ambient noise. The dull pounding of rain into mud took over from the almost tinny noise of it hitting leaves. It was just as dark, however, and because of the dead ground I couldn't see any lights from the house.
I stood up and stretched, then ripped an armful of palm leaves from the trees at the edge and laid them out on the ground at my entry point, throwing mud on top to keep them in place. Then, with the heel of my boot, I scraped deep score marks into the mud for good measure. It didn't matter if Charlie's men found the long straight puddles after first light by then I'd either have done my job and be away from here, or it would all have gone to rat shit anyway and Carrie and Luz would need finding.
I set off towards the house, conscious that the helicopter would be somewhere to my left. I was tempted to make my way over to it and have a look for a weapon.
But what if the pilot was asleep inside or listening to a Walkman? What if they had somebody on stag? It was unlikely, in the middle of nowhere and with us now lost in the jungle, but still, I couldn't take the chance of a compromise so far from the house. The aim was to get all of us out of here, not go the best of three falls with someone in a helicopter.
As I crested the high ground, I saw the glimmer of light from the single bulb burning away in the shower area. There was no other lighting, nothing from Luz's bedroom, or Carrie and Aaron's. I certainly couldn't tell if our escape window was still open or not, and I didn't intend getting close enough to that side of the house to find out. Why bother? It was wasting time. I'd go to the side where I knew there was an entry point that would definitely get me in.