by Paul Gait
Liz ran along the short stretch of the A40 which also signposted the Station and Staverton Airport. Her thoughts went back to a brief walking holiday she’d had with William when they’d flown from the small local airport to the Isle of Man on board a small twin engine turboprop. The plane was so noisy that the inflight films were old silent movies with subtitles. The film was projected on to one screen behind the pilot. She chuckled to herself at the recollection. That had been a nice break in between William’s tours but he was still tense and never really let himself relax.
Liz’s thoughts went back to her own health as she passed the Breast Cancer Unit which always reminded her to check herself for lumps while she showered. She shuddered at the thought of finding something.
Just as she got to a high walled Cheltenham College building a car pulled up on the other side of the narrow road and started matching her speed. She felt a moment of panic. She’d read only recently about East European gangs kidnapping women off the streets.
If it had only pulled up a few minutes earlier she could have escaped down a side road. But the road was now deserted so no-one would see what was going on. She tried to think what to do. Her mind overwhelmed with apprehension. She increased her pace.
The car did likewise. She was starting to panic inside. If the occupant tried anything, her screams would surely echo off walls and someone from the cricket pitch would come to her rescue. Wouldn’t they?
The car beeped its horn and someone waved. She ignored it. In her peripheral vision she could see that the car was still keeping pace with her. Perhaps they only wanted directions. She resisted the temptation to look and increased her pace. The car increased speed to keep abreast of her. She was starting to feel threatened and wondering what to do when the driver called.
‘Hey Leggy Liz,’ the voice said. She continued running, trying to ignore the kerb crawler.
The horn again.
Her curiosity got the better of her. She quickly glanced across at the car. It was a Renault 19. The driver lifted his sunglasses. Instantly she recognised the face. It was Frank, the flirty pub customer.
‘I thought it was you,’ he shouted, alternating his gaze from her to the road. ‘Couldn’t mistake those legs and your cute bum.’
‘God, you gave me such a fright.’ Liz said putting her hand over her wildly beating heart.
‘Sorry about that. Did you think I was stalking you?’
‘Yes. Oh. I’m all of a flutter,’ she said, flapping her hand in front of her hot face.
‘Do you live over here then?’ he queried.
‘Yes,’ she shouted, slowing her pace slightly and feeling relieved that her fears of abduction were unfounded.
Before they could strike up any more of a conversation, a Police car pulled right behind Frank’s car and eyed him suspiciously. Frank took the hint and accelerated. ‘I’ll see you in the pub tomorrow,’ he shouted over his shoulder as he sped off.
The Police driver wound down his window and asked ‘Is he bothering you Miss?’
‘No, it’s OK Officer I know him. But thanks.’
‘OK, enjoy your run.’ And so saying he drove off too.
‘Thanks,’ she called breathlessly as the patrol car accelerated down the road.
This time, the pedestrian lights were with her as she again crossed the busy A46 near the other side of the spectacular Cheltenham College buildings and entered Suffolk Road.
As she ran further on, she half expected to see Frank parked by the wide road at Tivoli Circus and waiting for her. She was mildly disappointed that he wasn’t there.
Seeing the road sign for Tivoli Circus reminded her of a childhood trip to London with her parents to see the famous Piccadilly Circus. She was very upset and had cried her eyes out when she discovered there was no big Circus Tent or clowns as she’d expected. She chuckled at the memory.
Pausing briefly to wait for a gap in the traffic, Liz carried on across the famous Rotunda Island with its busy filling station and, resisting the temptation to go for a drink in the Lansdown pub, she ran into Queens Road.
Eventually, she coasted a small incline at the end of the road and could see the sign for the surprisingly small two platform Cheltenham Spa railway station. The clientele of the small station had changed over the years. Initially it had been Victorian passengers coming to drink the Spa water, whereas nowadays it’s the annual ‘Irish invasion’ arriving for Gold Cup week, drinking most town bars dry.
She had collected William from here several times while he was doing his two year-long training for his current job. She could see him changing during it. He became more and more reserved as the intensity of the training increased. It was a testing time for their relationship.
She ran down the pedestrian walkway by the side of Honeybourne Way separating the pedestrians from the traffic, glad to get away from the busy Gloucester Road and alongside the diminutive, brook like River Chelt for a short distance.
Her feet were hot in her trainers and she noticed her pace had dropped. She stopped and took a drink from her water bottle and poured the rest over her head and the back of her neck. She gasped as it cascaded down between her breasts and pooled at her waist briefly.
‘Come on Elizabeth,’ she goaded. ‘Nearly there.’
She got her rhythm back and ran light footed past Christ Church and the sports centre where children were noisily playing tennis.
Her legs were hot as she ran back into an area of honeycomb four storey terrace houses similar to but not as majestic as the Crescent.
‘Nearly there,’ she panted.
Then finally back to the Crescent itself where she could see people picnicking on the grassy area near the children’s play area.
She checked her watch and was pleased with her run time. In spite of slowing down to talk to Frank, she’d met her target.
After Liz had completed her post run recovery regime; she opened the door of her flat and grabbed a bottle of ice cold water from the refrigerator and went back outside, removing her headband and scrunchie as she did so. She sat on the warm, top basement step and shook her head to untangle her ponytail. Although she was hot and sweaty, she felt the wonderful buzz that she always experienced after a run.
She put the cold bottle to her forehead and pulse spots of her wrists immediately feeling the cooling effects.
After rehydrating herself and cooling down for a few minutes she went back in to the flat stripped off her sweat soaked clothes and stepped into the ‘p’ shaped bath which doubled as a shower.
Setting the temperature to cool, she luxuriated in the stinging jets of water for ten long minutes cooling herself before soaping. Feeling refreshed, she stepped out of the bath and towelled herself down. She wrapped her long wet hair in a towel shaped turban, lay on her bed and dozed off in the warm flat.
Unlike William’s dream of their West Indies honeymoon, Liz’s dream was of a close encounter in the hot cab of Frank’s JCB.
CHAPTER 5
Afghanistan
William had other things on his mind that prevented him making the call to wish Liz happy anniversary. Normally he would have got some flowers sent to her, but even that had been forgotten in the ‘heat of battle’.
Intelligence had been received about the location of a bomb factory and an early morning raid was planned. William’s team were to be an integral part of the raid to ensure any booby traps or IEDs were quickly dealt with so that the raid could be executed quickly.
He had briefed the team about their involvement in the operation and went through the plans several times checking that everyone knew their role.
At the agreed time, the Infantry Platoon and EOD team were transported to within a half mile of their target before they disembarked.
For William the first five metres after stepping out of the protection of the Warthog armoured vehicle was always a heart stopping moment. The anticipation of whether they’d been spotted and being targeted by a hidden sniper was gut wrenching. Would they hea
r the crack of a gun? Would the shout of ‘man down’ as a bullet found its deadly mark abort the mission before it had even started?
Nothing happened. They hadn’t been compromised. William breathed a sigh of relief. The desert air was still.
The group were led by a soldier with a mine detector methodically sweeping the path ahead. They walked quietly in single file ten metres apart, everyone using their night vision goggles to probe the desert darkness.
The clandestine operation was being coordinated through an airborne command centre flying at high altitude. Nearby, a heavily armed drone was circling in a holding pattern ready to be deployed if required, to target the insurgents with its hellfire missiles.
Aerial surveillance came from a high tech camera locked on the target building. In addition, the latest infrared technology identified the location of the insurgent guards protecting the bomber’s store.
On his screen the camera surveillance operator could make out the ghostly green images of the patrol heading towards the building and had located the immobile Taliban guards who were well placed around the periphery of the target building.
The command plane was in direct contact with the Infantry Captain leading the raid.
‘Raider1. This is Skyhawk. Your first guard is at your two o’clock, two hundred metres.’
The Captain raised his hand and signalled to his patrol to stop. He pointed in the ‘two o’clock’ direction and all the members of the patrol lifted their rifles and gazed through their night sights to seek out the insurgent.
‘Target acquired,’ he heard one of them say.
Not wishing to warn the other guards of their approach, he nominated two of the patrol to remain on station and target the guard.
Rules of engagement meant they weren’t allowed to fire until fired upon. A rule he thought crazy. It was typical of a policy written from behind the safety of a desk, thousands of miles away.
Slowly, the rest of the platoon moved forward hugging the rugged brick wall of the compound.
‘Your next guard is in front of the building,’ the aerial guardian’s calm voice informed him.
Again the Leader signalled to halt and gestured to the soldier carrying a short ladder that he should put it against the wall and lead a few others over.
‘Be aware Raider 1 that guard 2 is likely to see you scaling the wall. Suggest you are prepared, over.’
‘Roger that.’
Quickly the Leader passed on the message and instructed the soldier to wait at the top of the ladder for further instructions. He then led the remaining group further along until they reached the edge of the building situated on the other side of the wall. He signalled for William to come forward to stick C4 plastic explosives to blow a hole in the wall.
‘Skyhawk. Any movement?’
‘Negative. The guards are still immobile.’
William carefully stuck the explosive to the wall and ran a short length of detonation wire back to a hand held firing unit held by Smithy.
‘Hopefully there isn’t anything the other side of the wall that will generate a secondary explosion,’ he whispered.
He looked at the Infantry Captain for permission to proceed. The Captain duly checked that the troops were far enough away from the site and gave the thumbs up.
William put his hand up with his five fingers spread open. He held it to Smithy and counted down by retracting one finger at a time.
After what seemed an age, Skyhawk could see the soldiers moving away from the building and heard the Leader also counting down.
‘Five, four, three, two, one.’ Quickly he turned off the high intensity viewer to ensure that the explosion didn’t ‘burn out’ the electronics. Nevertheless, he saw the explosion and quickly turned it back on again after a few seconds.
On the screen he could see the action as the team rushed through the still smoking hole in the wall.
Alerted by the explosion he could see the Taliban guards now firing and saw the return fire from the soldiers. Unsure of what was going on, the other three guards hesitated briefly, and then took to their heels.
‘Raider 1 this is Skyhawk. Your other opponents have fled. No other heat sources detected.’
‘Skyhawk, Raider 1 Roger that. Keep an eye out for us. I’m sure the fireworks will have attracted a lot more attention. Over.’
‘Roger Wilco.’
Skyhawk could see the soldiers emerging from the front of the building and taking up defensive positions.
William remained with his team outside the building until it had been thoroughly searched for anyone hiding inside. After five minutes the infantry man beckoned him forward.
‘I think we’ve won the jackpot,’ the Leader said smiling, as William joined him.
‘Have a look at that,’ he said, shining his torch around the smoke and dust laden room.
The torch revealed an Aladdin’s cave of bomb making material. Large numbers of various types of mobile phones, a stack of detonators, wiring tools, printed circuit boards, batteries, coils of multicolour insulated wire, and rolls of insulating tape were all piled high on a table.
On the floor nearby were several ordnance shells and old soviet landmines. In another part of the room there was a neat pile of blocks of homemade explosive wrapped in polythene sheets. Each block was secured by black insulating tape with insulated connecting wires trailing out of the polythene.
In a cupboard nearby there was a pile of circuit drawings, a collection of AK47s and ammunition lay scattered over the floor.
Pinned to the wall, a map of the local area caught William’s eye. On closer examination he noted that it was annotated with various pencil marks, presumably identifying the location of IEDs planted or planned.
‘Brilliant. This will make my job easier,’ he said, carefully removing it from the wall and rolling it up.
‘It looks like a training school for novice bomb makers.’ William said smiling. ‘This will stop the bastards for a little while. Do all your guys know not to touch anything until I have made sure it’s not booby trapped?’ he asked switching on his high intensity headlamp.
‘Yes,’ the infantry officer replied.
‘Ok. I’ll leave you to secure the area. In the meantime I’ll photograph this lot and we’ll get some transport here to get it back to base,’ William said smiling. ‘We can log it all there in peace. It will give us time to look for any clues as to who our man is.’
‘One up to us,’ the Infantry Captain said, gleefully. ‘Is that right they found one of these bomb makers in the UK?’
‘Yes. He thought he was safe but they got him from the forensics he’d left on the components.’
‘No hiding place eh? Anyway getting hold of this lot will save a few lives for sure.’
‘Yes, but sadly only until they re-establish their supply lines,’ William added realistically.
CHAPTER 6
Liz looked out of the pub window. The rain was still bucketing down as it had done all night. The unseasonal early heatwave had ended in an equally unseasonal thunderstorm.
Few people were venturing out because of the downpour and the morning was dragging on. She had already done her usual tidying up in the pub and had even started the Sudoku to while away the hours.
Liz thought at least Frank’s arrival would brighten up her day. She was looking forward to seeing him again for there was something in him she found exciting. She particularly liked his cheeky banter and infectious smile. He was, after all, quite handsome and more importantly, interested in her.
Liz kept clock watching every few minutes. Every time the door opened she hoped it was him and disappointed when he failed to emerge. Like an anxious dog waiting for its owner to return she kept looking expectantly at the door. When it came to the end of her shift and he hadn’t shown, she felt quite disheartened, mortified that he hadn’t arrived.
The day got worse for her for when she got home she discovered her basement had flooded. The drains, dodgy at the best of times, ha
d been unable to cope with the deluge and had backed up into concrete area in front of her flat. Some had leaked over the top of her raised threshold and into her flat.
‘Damn it. Just right to cap the end of a depressing day,’ she muttered to herself.
Although it wasn’t a significant amount of water, nevertheless she spent the rest of the afternoon and evening mopping up. Her carpet was ruined so she decided she needed to get the drains sorted.
CHAPTER 7
However the weather had improved the following day and when the pub door opened at lunch time she was elated to see Frank’s tall figure standing in the doorway, in his hand, a pair of muddy boots.
‘I daren’t upset you by wearing my dirty boots again Mum,’ he said smiling.
‘That’s a good boy,’ she replied, feeling excited to see him and getting back into the spirit of their banter. ‘Now if you’re a good boy Mummy will allow you to have…’
‘A kiss?’ Frank interrupted, beaming.
‘Not a chance,’ she added quickly, colouring up. ‘But I’ll allow you to buy a pint.’
Frank dropped his boots near the doorway. ‘Spoilsport!’ he blurted pretending to be upset.
‘Anyway were you stalking me in Cheltenham the other day?’ she demanded.
‘No. But I wish I had. I was on my way to see the boss. He’d got a weather report about the thunderstorm yesterday so he wanted to plan an alternative job for me just in case. No rest for the wicked, eh!’
‘Oh, is that why you weren’t in yesterday?’
‘Yeah. Did you miss me?’
‘No,’ she lied.
‘Pity. I missed you,’ he said giving her one of his beaming smiles.
She fidgeted uncomfortably under his gaze.
‘Unfortunately, we did some maintenance work on the drains back at base,’ ’ he continued.