by Bruce Cooke
“How long do you think we might have?” Bill asked grimly.
“They are probably on the move now. I figured they would wait until dark to try and get me.”
“So they are still at least an hour or two behind us.”
“Yeah. I think we should keep moving,” Scott said. “They certainly will. I left them a note saying I was going to Kabul and for them to have a nice day.”
“I’ll bet that really pissed them off.” Bill spread out his map and pointed to a small spot on the surface. “We should head for there.”
“Why there? It’s not on the route.” Scott raised an eyebrow at his words.
“If you were they, where would you look?”
“On the direct route for Kabul.”
“Exactly,” Bill said. “If we go in another direction then we can evade them.”
“Makes sense,” said Scott, approving the idea. “You know the area, so we follow you.” He turned to Pipa. “It will still be hard going. Are you up for it?”
“A soft bed and a warm bath would be good, but I’m with both of you.”
“Okay, then you lead, Bill, and we follow.”
“Just keep clear of snow drifts,” Bill said. “We don’t want footprints to tell them in what direction we are going.”
They set off once again in the gloom of the night.
Chapter 17
Creswick scowled as he thought about the situation. “We haven’t heard a shot in an hour. I think he’s gone.”
“Then stand up,” said Greg.
Instead, Creswick called to the leader of the soldiers, who spoke to one of his soldiers. Nervously, the man rose from his position and breathed a sigh of relief when nothing happened.
Creswick looked at the setting sun. “He’s gone, and it will be hard to track him in the dark.”
“That’s what he expects,” said Greg, satisfied the shooter had gone. “He’s probably been gone for an hour.”
Orders were given, and the remaining soldiers rose to their feet. There were three wounded soldiers lying on the ground, and orders were given for them to be taken back to their starting point. This left a party of five, plus Creswick and Greg.
“If he sets himself up again then he can easily pick us off,” Greg said.
“Not unless he has cat’s eyes. He’d be lucky to see us unless were almost on him.”
They climbed the hill and came to the resting place where Scott had set up. Empty cartridge cases lay on the ground, and Creswick picked up a note Scott had left under a small rock. He read it and screwed it up angrily.
“What’s it say?” asked Greg.
“It says he has a date in Kabul and for us to have a nice day. We have to get him before he reaches Kabul.”
“They have to stop for the night,” Greg said. “I suggest we keep going until we find them.”
Creswick frowned at this suggestion. “This man is no fool. He knows we will keep pursuing him, so he won’t stop unless he is satisfied he’s safe.”
Greg agreed. “So we move in the dark.”
Creswick nodded then gave orders for the remaining men to continue the pursuit.
At last, they came to the site where Scott had met up with the others.
“They’re heading for Kabul, I suppose,” said Greg.
Creswick studied the site. “Maybe that’s what he expects. He could be taking another route.”
“What, over the mountains?”
“Maybe. I’ll send the soldiers to follow to Kabul while we go toward the mountains. He might think he has fooled us and be careless.”
“That will split the group,” Greg said.
“Yes, but the soldiers will kill them if I’m wrong. I’ll talk to the leader.”
A quick conversation took place, and after a lot of arm waving, it was settled. The Taliban soldiers left towards Kabul, while Creswick and Greg moved toward the mountains. They had gone for an hour when Creswick saw a female footprint in a patch of snow with his flashlight. Both bent down to examine it, confident there were on the right trail.
“Don’t use the flashlight again,” he said to Greg. “If they see the light, they will be ready for us.”
“Do you think they are sleeping?”
“Perhaps, but one will be on guard. We go very carefully from here.”
* * * *
Bill stopped them to rest. The going was tough, especially on Pipa, but necessary.
“Are you okay?” asked Scott, watching her body language.
“Fine, never been better,” she said with exhaustion in her tone.
“Yeah, I can see. How about we stop for a while, Bill, to give her some rest?”
“Okay, as long as one of us stays on guard. We change every two hours.”
“Okay, you take the first watch,” Scott said.
They settled down as best they could, and Pipa was soon asleep. Scott threw a blanket over her from his backpack and tried to get some sleep himself. He was awaked by Bill shoving him in the arm.
“Shit, two hours up already?”
“No, I saw a flashlight about two Ks away,” Bill said. “It went out quickly, but there is someone out there.”
“So, what do you recommend?”
“Could be a bit dangerous, but I think there is only a couple of them. How about you pretend to be asleep as they arrive? I hide behind those rocks with my shotgun. I can hardly miss from that distance.”
“I agree. Pipa is in no condition to run until she’s had a rest.”
Bill agreed. “Then we set the ambush.”
Scott lay alongside Pipa until the enemy arrived.
Scott remembered later when Bill told him he was aware of their presence when he heard them scurrying up the rocky ground. He smiled when he saw only two. He cocked his gun and waited.
Scott was aware of Creswick standing over him with a gun pointing at his head.
“Wakey wakey, Peters.” Creswick grinned.
“Creswick. How did you find us?”
“Does it matter? Now I want those files you have.”
“What files?” Scott felt comfortable that there was only the two of them.
“Don’t play games. You know what files.”
“You mean the files that will put you away for the next twenty years?” Scott asked. “I don’t think so.”
* * * *
Pipa woke and was horrified to see both Greg and Creswick standing over them. “My God, Greg. So you have turned criminal with this scum.”
“Had to. I don’t fancy spending years in prison.”
Creswick grinned at Scott. “Now the files.”
“I posted them to the government at the last post box.”
“Sure, you did. The postal service can be slow here. Now. If you don’t hand them over, I will have to kill your girlfriend.”
Pipa looked at Greg and shook her head. “You’d let him do that?”
Creswick sneered. “Not his choice, it’s mine.”
“I think you should drop your guns and surrender to us,” said Scott confidently.
Creswick laughed. “I knew you had a sense of humour.”
“I just don’t want to see you get your head blown off,” Scott said. “Or maybe I do.”
“I agree,” said Bill, stepping out and pointing his shotgun at them both.
Creswick looked around, and his face went white.
“Drop them,” said Scott, rising to his feet.
Greg dropped his immediately, as did Creswick.
“You won’t get away with this,” Creswick said. “We will get you eventually.”
“Not when the government gets their hands on this. They won’t want this to be made public, so they might just retire you and Pallister to some grave in the outback. That’s what you would do, wouldn’t you?” Scott received no reply, so he ordered them to sit on the rocky ground. “Take your shoes off,” he demanded.
Greg looked at him in amazement. “Why?”
“You can hardly catch up with us with b
are feet. There is a road some ten Ks away that will take you to Kabul. By then, we will be on our way home. Do it.”
Both began to remove their shoes, and Bill picked them up and tied them together.
“Nice to have met you,” he said cheerfully.
The trio left Creswick and Greg trying to hobble over the cold hard ground.
“He would have killed us,” said Pipa as they moved quickly.
“Yeah, but we’re not cold-blooded killers,” Scott said. “We kill to protect ourselves, but that’s all.”
“I’m glad you didn’t. Greg is not as bad as Creswick. I think the money dragged him in.”
“You know him better than I do. Bet you’re glad you dumped him.”
She slipped her arms around his neck. “We all make mistakes.”
“Is this a mistake?”
She smiled and kissed him. “What do you think?”
“It’s the sort of mistake I like.”
Bill came to them. “Will you love birds can it? We still have a long way to go.”
“We’re just friends,” said Pipa coyly.
“Yeah, and I’m the Prime Minister. Move your asses.”
They continued moving until dawn broke and they could see a road far below.
“That’s the road to Kabul,” said Bill, now in a happy mood.”
“So what do we do now?” asked Pipa, looking at the road.
“We start walking towards Kabul and hope an American patrol picks us up. If we see Taliban then we will have another fight to contend with.”
When they got closer to the road, Bill grabbed Scott’s arm. “Taliban.”
They dropped to the ground and looked at the five soldiers walking together along the road.
“They’re the ones who were with Creswick.”
“Yeah,” said Scott, studying them. “There’s only five.”
“That means they will be nervous after last time. How about you take two or three out? The rest will panic and run for the hills.”
“Good thinking,” said Scott. He took his rifle from his shoulder and settled down into a firing position. “How far do you reckon?” he asked Bill, who studied them through his binoculars.
“Maybe five hundred metres. Should be an easy shot.”
Scott gave a grin. “That’s what I think, too.”
He lined up one of the leading soldiers and pulled the trigger. The soldier went straight down as the others looked around, unsure where the shot had come from. Scott lined up another and fired with the same results. Utter panic set in, and the soldiers all ran zig-zagging off the road in the opposite direction. Some stood up and ran as fast as they could. Scott smiled and let go another shot, deliberately hitting the ground near their feet. This time, all ran as fast as they could away from the road.
“That should see them off,” said Bill, amused at the panic Scott had inflicted.
“We give them another half hour and walk down the road. Don’t think they will pursue us anymore.”
They waited then continued their journey down the road. An hour later, they came to an American road block. Scott waved his arms and slowly approached until they were only fifty metres away.
“Drop your weapon,” a soldier ordered, and Scott did just that. Several soldiers came running, alarmed until they got close.
“We are escaping the Taliban. Can we join you?”
“Who are you?”
Scott explained what had happened. “We were driving to Kholm when we were ambushed. I’m Scott Peters, and this is Bill Fraser and Pipa Barrett. She’s a reporter for a Canberra newspaper. We were after a story until we ran into trouble. Bill and I used to be in the Australian SAS. We know where we are, but things went wrong. Can we get a lift back to Kabul?”
“SAS, “said the Lieutenant.
“Yeah, we know how to take care of ourselves, but Pipa needs protection.
“There is a chopper coming to take care of a lightly wounded man. You can get a ride back with it.”
“Thank God,” said Pipa, totally exhausted.
“Don’t worry, Miss. You will be back there inside an hour.”
When the chopper arrived, they were welcomed in. Soon, they reached the American Air Force base in Kabul. As soon as they stepped off the chopper, a squad of armed soldiers greeted them.
“You will accompany us,” said the sergeant in command, so they followed the men to the barracks where they were ushered into the base commander’s office.
“You said you are Scott Peters and this is Pipa Barret. Is that correct?”
“Yes, sir. I was a member of the SAS some time ago. Is there a problem?”
“Perhaps. I was told that the Australian Federal Police see you as a suspect in the murder of a few people. Especially the murder of the Muslim cleric.”
“That’s all true. I was set up by some members of the Federal Police to be a patsy to cover their conspiracy.”
“Better explain,” the commander said, leaning back in his chair.
Scott told him about his employment and how his fingerprints were found on the murder weapon. How he was framed to take the heat. If he was dead, then their conspiracy would work.
“So why are you in Afghanistan?”
“Pipa and I found out that five million dollars were sent to a few phony companies all headed by a Roger Pallister, one of the head gurus of the police. We had to find evidence that he received the money. I learnt that the money came from Ohma Abas.”
The man scowled. “You would have no chance of finding him. We’ve been looking for him for a long time.”
“I know, but his money man is Mohamad El-Hasham, who resides as a civilian in a tiny village of Khlom. We persuaded him to give us the files of the transaction.”
“Of course, he gave them willingly?” the commander asked.
“I told him he was cheating Creswick, and I wanted proof that the money had been paid. He was scared and gave us a printout.”
“What about the Taliban?”
“Creswick turned up and had a group run us down. I was a sniper in the SAS and took care of a few.”
“I see. Can I see the files?”
Scott nodded to Pipa, who handed them over.
The commander studied them and leaned back. “It looks as though you are telling the truth.”
“We have to get back to Canberra, but can Pipa use your fax machine in case we lose the files?”
“I can arrange that. Tell me the location of this man, and we will raid him. His computer will tell us a lot.”
Pipa stepped in. “And can I use your phone to ring my editor?”
He pointed to his phone, and Pipa picked it up. She dialled Fred and waited.
“Scarla.”
“Fred, its Pipa.”
Fred sounded relieved. “Jesus, are you all right?”
“I am now. What I’ve got is red hot.”
“I’m listening.”
“Before I tell you, I want you to wait until I get home before printing it,” Pipa said.
“Why?” He sounded confused.
“It could put you in danger. Promise.”
“Okay. Let me have it.”
“Look at your fax machine. I’ll send it all in a couple of minutes.” After the phone call, she sent off the files and sat back. “Now that’s done, let’s find a nice hot shower and a soft bed to sleep in.”
Scott could see the smile on her face.
“I could get to like you,” she said.
“You can get a shower here,” said the base commander.
“Thanks for the offer, but we want to find some good comfort before going home.”
“Okay, I can get you a lift into Kabul to find a hotel.”
“Thanks,” said Scott, shaking his hand. He turned to Bill. “And thanks to you, mate. We couldn’t have done it without you.”
“You know how I like a bit of adventure. Have a good trip home and keep in touch,” Bill said.
“I will, and if you ever come home, look
me up.”
“Will do.” Bill shook Scott’s hand and left.
* * * *
Creswick and Greg had a very painful trip to safety. Walking over rocky ground without shoes was something neither had experienced before. They had to make several stops to rest their feet before continuing their journey. At last, they reached a road but weren’t sure where it would take them. They did know that it was leading in the right direction but wasn’t the road they first came down.
They sat on a rock to rest under the blazing heat, and both needed water to quench their thirst. At last, an old truck appeared, so Creswick stepped out and waved it down. They got a suspicious look from the driver, an old man with a very grey beard and weather-beaten face. Creswick got into conversation with him in Arabic, which Greg didn’t understand. Money was exchanged, and they climbed into the back of the truck. Each breathed a sigh of relief for the fact they didn’t have to walk any further.
Two hours later, Kabul came into sight, and they were dropped off outside a hotel. Creswick booked a room with two beds, and both lay exhausted, trying to get their breath back.
“So what’s the plan now?” asked Greg after they had rested.
“We find those bastards and take care of them after we get back the files.”
“They may have already left Afghanistan and are on their way home.”
“I don’t think so,” Creswick said. “They haven’t had time to arrange things. I’ll ring around the hotels and see if they are booked into any of them.” He started straight away and soon found their hotel. “They are due to move out tomorrow,” he said.
Greg sighed. He wanted no part of this, but he had no choice. “So how do we get them?”
“I get some more guns and pick them up as they are about to leave for the airport.”
Greg raised an eyebrow. “You know where we can get guns?”
“I’ve been here before. Leave it to me.”
He left the hotel and returned two hours later. Creswick handed Greg a Berretta with a silencer attached, and held one of his own.
“I have a van hired, and we go before their checkout time.”
Next morning, he looked at his watch. “Time to move.”