Bad Soldier: Danny Black Thriller 4

by Chris Ryan

  He looked down at the bag of incriminating evidence in his fist. That stupid bitch sure chose the wrong party to join. But it wasn’t Tony’s problem. He just needed to get rid of the evidence, then get his Grace on a plane back to London before anybody started sniffing around. If he did that right, things could be looking up for him. And Tony couldn’t help but enjoy the thought that it would have Danny Black laughing on the other side of his stupid, smug face.

  Danny drove east. He knew, from his mental snapshot of the terrain, that the road was following the Syrian border, a couple of klicks to its north. They’d been travelling for half an hour, mostly in silence, apart from the occasional one-word direction from Rojan. They’d seen nobody on these rough, unpopulated roads. Hereford had chosen their insertion point well, but Danny was very aware that anyone they encountered would be a potential threat. Nobody would be driving round these parts if they didn’t have a good reason to be here. And the only good reason to be here was military. All Danny’s senses were on high alert.

  ‘Describe the border crossing to me,’ he said.

  ‘It is a river crossing,’ Rojan replied. ‘Dry in the summer, flowing in the winter. But shallow, if you know the right place, which I do. This vehicle can cross it easily.’

  Almost as if in response to Rojan’s words, big droplets of rain spattered hard against the windscreen. A minute later it was raining ferociously. The Hilux’s headlamps cut through the rain, but their visibility was reduced to ten metres, max, with the wipers squeaking ineffectively.

  ‘How far is the crossing from the nearest official border checkpoint?’ Danny asked above the noise of the water hammering on the top of the vehicle.

  ‘Thirty miles in either direction. I told you, it’s a good place.’

  They fell silent again. Danny could sense the tension emanating from Caitlin and Spud in the back.

  ‘Your friends on the Iraqi side of the border,’ Danny said. ‘How many?’

  ‘Four, maybe five.’

  ‘How many vehicles?’

  ‘One. Maybe two.’

  ‘Which?’ Danny asked peevishly. ‘One or two?’ Rojan pulled out a mobile phone and started to dial a number. ‘What are you doing?’

  ‘Calling them.’

  ‘Put the phone down. I said, put the fucking phone down.’ He grabbed it from Rojan’s fist and threw it to the floor.

  ‘What are you doing?’ Rojan demanded angrily. ‘Daesh are not listening in to our phones, we know that.’

  ‘They’re not the only people we have to worry about,’ Danny snapped. And he meant it. It was inconceivable that GCHQ weren’t hacking every communication they could pick up along this border. If GCHQ were doing it, you could bet your bottom dollar that the Yanks were doing the same. The unit’s orders were very clear: do nothing to alert the Americans to their presence. That meant keeping mobile communications to an absolute minimum.

  He didn’t explain all that to the Kurds. Rojan’s irritation was palpable. Danny didn’t care. He just kept driving.

  Time check. 0415 hours. Sixty minutes till dawn. The rain hadn’t let up. The inside of the windscreen kept fogging from the breath of so many people in the vehicle. The tyres felt sluggish on the ground. It was difficult driving, but that was OK by Danny. The rain kept them camouflaged, to an extent.

  ‘Go right at the junction up ahead,’ Rojan said, ‘off the road.’ These were the first words he’d spoken since their argument about the phone, and he had a sulky tone of voice.

  Danny nodded. After 300 metres they came to an unmarked T-junction. The terrain to the right was marshy. Danny slowed down and knocked the vehicle into first gear to avoid wheelspin, then he killed the headlamps.

  ‘What are you doing?’ Rohan asked. ‘You won’t be able to see.’

  Danny lowered his NV goggles from the top of his helmet. ‘I’ll be able to see just fine,’ he said. The world outside turned into a green haze, with every bump and undulation of the terrain ahead clearly defined, despite the darkness and the rain. ‘Distance to the border crossing?’

  ‘About two kilometres,’ Rojan said. Danny nodded. He manoeuvred the vehicle slowly and carefully through the driving rain. He didn’t even need to look in the rear-view mirror to check that Spud and Caitlin had engaged their own NV. He could sense their tension in the air. ‘You come to a hill in 1,500 metres,’ Rojan said. ‘Once you go over the hill, you can see it in the distance. There is a barbed wire fence on the other side of the river.’

  ‘Do you have any cutting tools?’ Spud asked from the back of the vehicle.

  ‘You won’t need them,’ Naza piped up. ‘We already cut a section out of the fence.’

  There was a pause. ‘When did you cut it?’ Spud asked.

  ‘Does it matter?’ Rojan said.

  ‘When did you cut it?’

  ‘About twelve hours ago.’

  There was a pause. It was as if none of the unit wanted to ask the question that they all had in their head.

  ‘This section you cut out of the fence,’ Spud said finally. ‘You replaced it, right? It doesn’t look like you cut anything out?’

  Silence.

  Danny braked. He turned to Rojan. ‘Answer him,’ he said.

  ‘No,’ Rojan said defensively. ‘Of course not. What’s the point? It’s just a small gap. A few metres.’

  Danny swore under his breath, and he heard a restrained ‘For fuck’s sake’ from Spud. The Kurds had made an elementary error. A hole in the border fence, no matter how small, would be a beacon to anyone patrolling the area. It didn’t matter who – Iraqi or Turkish authorities, IS patrols, border guards. Anyone who saw it would know that someone had got, or was planning to get, a vehicle through there. And that meant there was a high probability that someone would be watching the crossing point.

  ‘Don’t worry about it,’ Rojan said, though his voice quavered slightly. ‘We cross this border all the time. It will be fine.’

  None of the unit answered. Danny knocked the vehicle back into first gear and continued to trundle south towards the border, his mind turning over. What should they do? Abort? Try to find another border crossing? That could take days. They only had hours.

  Five slow, tense minutes passed. There was no let-up in the rain. Through the green haze of his NV, and by the feel of the engine’s traction on the wet ground, Danny could tell that the gradient of the terrain had started to increase. This must be the hill Rojan had mentioned. Danny stopped the vehicle, engaged the handbrake and killed the engine.

  ‘What are you doing?’ Rojan asked. ‘We’re not there yet.’

  ‘We need to check the border crossing. Make sure there are no threats waiting for us.’

  ‘There won’t be,’ Rojan said. ‘There never are.’

  ‘That doesn’t mean there never will be,’ Danny replied. ‘Especially if you’ve left a signal for everyone, like a section of missing fencing. You and Naza stay here.’ He looked at Spud and Caitlin. ‘Get out,’ he said.

  They were drenched the moment they stepped outside. They stood in a huddle in front of the car. ‘Caitlin, I want you to stay with them while me and Spud do a recce. And before you argue, it’s only because the girl seems to trust you.’ He looked up the hill. ‘We’ll get eyes on the border crossing from the rise, see if there’s anything suspicious. Then we’ll make a call whether or not to cross.’

  Caitlin frowned. She obviously wasn’t happy at being excluded for a second time, but she didn’t argue. She returned to the car, leaving Danny and Spud in the downpour, NV engaged, the world around them a teeming green haze.

  Wordlessly, they jogged up the hill. Distance to the rise: twenty metres. They went to ground five metres short of it. Danny removed his night-sight. Then they crawled the remaining distance through the wet, muddy earth, before carefully edging to the vantage point and looking down towards the Iraqi border.

  He didn’t need the night-sight to realise they had a problem.

  There was a vehicle. All D
anny could see of it was red lights, which told him that it was facing away from them. He quickly disengaged his NV goggles and scanned the area with his night-sight. A couple of seconds’ observation revealed the river itself – it was about fifty metres from their position, and 100 metres in width, with high reeds along either bank. The border fencing was on the far side of the river, just as Rojan had said. It was about six metres high, with upright posts every five metres, joined by rolls of razor wire. The gap that Rojan had cut in the fence was almost directly in front of them. The vehicle was driving away from the gap. With the benefit of the night-sight, Danny could see that it was a four-by-four of some description, not unlike their own Hilux.

  Danny and Spud watched it leave. It took less than a minute for the red lights to disappear into the drenched darkness. They retreated back behind the rise. ‘The border crossing’s compromised,’ Spud said. ‘That fucking Kurdish tosspot’s screwed up the whole op.’

  Danny gave it a moment’s thought. ‘We need to find another crossing point.’

  ‘Mucker, it’s not going to happen,’ Spud said. ‘We need to get the hell out of here. It’s eighty–twenty someone knows there’s going to be a covert border crossing. They’ll be fucking waiting for us.’

  Danny knew he was right. ‘Let’s get back down to the others,’ he said.

  They slid back down the slope. By the time they reached the Hilux again, they were truly soaked through and covered in sticky, wet mud. Not that it mattered. They got back into the car and explained what they’d seen. Caitlin swore viciously.

  ‘You’re worrying too much,’ Rojan said. ‘It was probably just our friends on the other side of the border. They’re expecting us, remember?’

  ‘We can’t be sure of that,’ Danny said. ‘Is there any other crossing point?’

  ‘No,’ Rojan said. ‘Not for miles, and they’ll be manned. This is the only place. Trust me.’

  Silence in the car. The rain hammered noisily.

  ‘We abort,’ Danny said. ‘Get on to Hereford, request a pick-up, dig in for the day and return to our LZ under cover of night.’

  ‘Roger that,’ Spud growled. Caitlin nodded. Full agreement. Trying to drive through a compromised crossing point broke every SOP in the book. It was potential suicide.

  Rojan suddenly slammed one hand on the dashboard. ‘You see what they did to me?’ he spat. He pointed at his wounded face. ‘Don’t you see what they did to me? And you’re going to give up now, because you’re too scared to cross the border?’

  ‘Get used to it,’ Danny said. ‘Because that’s what’s happening.’

  ‘Fine,’ Rojan said. ‘Get out of the car. We’ll cross the river, Naza and me. When we’re on the other side, you can walk across. I’ll cover you with my gun.’ He jabbed his thumb backwards to indicate the fifty-cal on the back of the Hilux.

  Danny thought about it. It was hardly ideal. Rojan would be putting himself right in the firing line. But if he was willing to do it, they could, maybe, make this work. Because if there was a vehicle fording the river, it would hold the attention of anyone watching it. Which meant that any other activity on the river might go unnoticed . . .

  He turned to the other members of his team. Spud nodded, almost imperceptibly. He clearly knew the risk the Kurd was taking, and what Danny was thinking.

  ‘Naza stays with us,’ Caitlin says.

  ‘No way,’ said Rojan. ‘She’s my sister, she stays with me—’

  ‘No,’ Danny interrupted. ‘She’s just a kid. I’m not letting you put her in the firing line.’

  ‘But—’

  ‘Forget it,’ Caitlin cut in. ‘You do it alone, or we turn back now.’ She looked so fiercely at Rojan that he instantly backed down.

  Naza being a kid was only half the reason for holding her back, of course. They needed at least one of them alive, if they were to hook up with their Kurdish mates on the Iraqi side of the border.

  ‘Do you know how deep the water gets on either side of the ford?’ Danny said.

  Rojan, still sulking, put his right hand at the level of his chest. ‘Maybe a bit higher,’ he said, ‘in this weather.’

  Danny sniffed, and wiped a drop of rain from his eyes. ‘OK. You take the vehicle. The rest of us will wade through the river on foot. We’ll be behind you and to your left. If you get into trouble, we can supply fire support.’

  ‘There won’t be any trouble,’ Rojan said confidently.

  ‘We’ll see,’ Danny murmured. ‘We need to unload our gear.’

  ‘The weapons container stays with me,’ Rojan replied.

  That was fine by Danny. He got back out into the pouring rain, along with Spud, Caitlin and Naza. They grabbed their bergens from the back of the Hilux. Before they slung them over their shoulders, however, they silently went about the business of preparing their packs for the river crossing. Each bergen had a waterproof lining, with a ziplock-type seal at the top. Danny checked the seal was firmly closed. This would not only keep the contents watertight; the air trapped inside would turn the bergen into a makeshift flotation device – very hard to sink, and useful to hold on to if they found themselves getting washed away. He had two full water canteens in the side of the bergen, which he emptied out before returning them to the side pockets. The empty bottles would add to the bergen’s buoyancy.

  Spud and Caitlin were finishing the same operation while Danny moved to the driver’s window, where Rojan had taken his place behind the wheel and was scratching his closed-up eye socket. ‘Wait ten minutes,’ he said. ‘That should give us enough time to get to the water’s edge. When you move, keep your headlamps off. And drive slowly – it’ll keep the engine noise down. Do you understand?’

  Rojan faced forward and nodded curtly. He clearly didn’t like taking instructions.

  ‘When you get to the other side, point your machine gun to the south-east. That’s the direction we saw the vehicle leaving.’

  ‘I know that,’ Rojan said. ‘I’m not stupid. Just go. It will be dawn soon.’ He wound up his window without looking at Danny.

  Danny swore under his breath. He didn’t have time to argue. He estimated that they’d lose the cover of darkness in twenty-five minutes.

  If they were going to cross the border, it had to be now.

  Thirteen

  ‘Do you understand what we’re doing?’ Caitlin asked Naza.

  The girl looked unsure. She didn’t answer.

  ‘There’s the river,’ Caitlin said. ‘On the other side of the river is the border fence. Your brother cut a hole in it, which means people on the other side might be expecting us to cross. So your brother is taking the vehicle across by himself. While he does that, we’re going to wade through the river, out of sight. It’s our best chance of keeping safe.’

  ‘What if Daesh shoot at him?’ Naza asked.

  ‘Then we’ll shoot back.’

  Naza looked across at her brother, who was still sitting behind the wheel, scratching his eye.

  ‘He’s very brave,’ Naza said.

  ‘Yeah,’ Caitlin muttered. ‘He’s a regular Ned Kelly.’

  Danny walked up to them. ‘Stick close to her,’ Danny told Naza, pointing at Caitlin. ‘When I raise my hand like this, get to the ground immediately. You understand?’

  Naza nodded.

  Caitlin took Danny to one side. She spoke quietly so Naza couldn’t hear them. ‘If the crossing is compromised, Rojan’s a dead man.’

  ‘I know,’ Danny said, glancing at the kid.

  The three unit members engaged their NV goggles. Danny jogged over to Rojan’s vehicle. The Kurd lowered his window. ‘Give us ten minutes to get to the river,’ Danny said. ‘Then make the crossing.’

  Rojan nodded wordlessly, then shut his window. Danny returned to the others. ‘Let’s go,’ he said. He led them back up the slope, with Caitlin directly behind him, then Naza, then Spud. As before, they stopped short of the brow of the hill and Danny carefully scanned the area beyond the border fence. Ther
e was no sign of any movement or threat. Maybe Rojan was right. Maybe this was a safe crossing.

  But Danny was not about to risk the safety of his team on the back of a maybe.

  Crouching low, they crested the top of the hill and hurried back down below the ridge where they would be less visible. They struck off at a bearing of thirty degrees anticlockwise, so that when they hit the river they would be well clear of the shallow ford where Rojan would be crossing. Advancing carefully, it took five minutes for them to hit the water’s edge 100 metres east of the ford. Here it was marshy underfoot, and difficult to walk among the waist-high reeds that lined the river, and which were battered by the heavy rain. Spud stood four metres to Danny’s left. Caitlin and Naza stood an equivalent distance to his right. This was the correct positioning. Danny could see there was a reasonably fast current, flowing from right to left. Danny and Spud would be able to withstand it, and so would Caitlin if she was on her own. But with Naza clinging on to her, there was a chance of them being knocked downstream. Danny and Spud would be there to catch her if necessary.

  Danny looked over his right shoulder. In the green haze of his NV, he could see the Hilux slowly cresting the hill towards the crossing point. He loosened his bergen so that it was hanging over just one shoulder. He held his weapon, cocked and locked, horizontally in front of him. Then he waded out, through the reeds, into the river. He was entirely soaked already, so the river water did not make his shoes or clothes any wetter. But he could instantly tell that the running water was several degrees colder than the air. The current was also a little faster than he’d anticipated. He hoped Caitlin would be able to hold on to Naza.

  The unit waded forward in a flat line. The river bed was soft, and Danny’s boots sank a good couple of inches into the mud. Eight metres out, he checked on the position of the Hilux again. It had only just reached the bottom of the hill. It looked like Rojan was taking Danny’s advice about driving slowly. Good.

  The river became suddenly, unexpectedly deeper. Danny sank up to his chest and almost lost his footing. He felt his bergen floating obstinately behind him. The noise of the rain fizzed on the surface of the water, but he could still hear Naza gasp. He looked to his left, ready to catch her if necessary, but Caitlin had one arm round the girl, and she looked rock solid against the current.