Devil's Guard- The Complete Series Box Set

by Eric Meyer

  She raised her eyebrows. “Yeah, right.”

  I grinned, “Don’t worry, it’ll be fine.”

  Art Schramm and his men had dismounted from the APC that had transported them, and I went to speak to them.

  “Art, thanks for everything. I hope they pay you well for what you did.”

  He grinned. “Don’t worry about that, the military squares the bills for our services pretty quick. They don’t want disgruntled mercenaries running around in their rear.”

  “No, I guess not. Where are you headed now?”

  “Into town for a meal and a few beers.”

  “I’d like to fix up to meet, maybe this evening?”

  “Make it tomorrow,” he replied. “I’ve got some business to attend to tonight, and she won’t wait any longer.”

  “Tomorrow it is. Lunch at Abe Woltz’s place?”

  “It’s a date.”

  We shook hands and he left.

  “Mr. Hoffman? Max Hoffman?”

  I looked around, an American Military Policeman, a sergeant, had walked up quietly behind us.

  “I’m Hoffman.”

  “Yes, Sir, I’m Sergeant Mostyn, a message from the manager of Kabul International. There’s a problem with your aircraft, and it needs resolving right now.”

  I sighed. “Sergeant, I’ve just got in, and we’re about to attend a debrief with General Westwood. You know who he is?”

  “I know General Westwood, yes, Sir. But this is an emergency. If the plane isn’t cleared, they’re going to destroy it.”

  “What! Cleared for what?”

  “I dunno, Sir. That’s the message. Either come now and sort it out, or they use a controlled detonation to destroy the aircraft.”

  I nodded. “I’ll come now. Rachel, you go on to the debriefing.”

  “No way, I’m coming too. The debrief can wait.”

  “I’ve got a vehicle outside the gate. I’ll give you a lift,” the MP said. “But we need to get there fast, before they decide to go ahead with the controlled detonation.”

  “Ok, we’re coming.”

  We followed him outside the gates of Camp Phoenix and there stood a military Humvee. It was unmarked, which seemed strange, but so did everything else that the ISAF forced did in Afghanistan. We piled in the back, and Sergeant Mostyn drove us away towards the airport. It didn’t seem quite right, any of this. The message about the aircraft, the unmarked Humvee, but when we turned into the airport and drove to the hangar, I relaxed. We both still had our pistols, the Colt .45s that Abe Woltz had given us, so I felt able to defend ourselves if there was any funny business. The Twin Otter was outside the hangar, and Roy Waverley stood by it with a clipboard. We climbed down from the Humvee and joined him.

  “What’s up, Roy. What’s going on?”

  He looked up. “Hi, Max, Rachel. The crates are all loaded ready to be shipped out, and the bird’s fueled up, so you can get her in the air straight away.”

  “I don’t understand. What’s this about a controlled detonation, some kind of security scare?”

  “It’s news to me.” He looked mystified. “Ask Joe, he’s inside.”

  “Joe Ashford? He’s here?”

  Sure, he sent for you, said you were flying out as soon as you got here.”

  I felt my anger surge. “We’ll have a word with him. I think he needs to understand who’s running the war in Afghanistan, and it isn’t him.”

  I stormed into the hangar, and Rachel came with me. Ashford was stood inside, and at first we didn’t see him, the interior was too dark. Then I recognized his huge bulk and walked up to him.

  “Ashford, what the hell’s going on here? We’re supposed to be with the General.”

  “The guy you think is running the war here, isn’t that what I heard you say?”

  He grinned and held out his hand. Automatically, I shook it. Then I remembered where I’d seen the watch on the Taliban commander. On Joe Ashford’s wrist, where there was just a white line marking where he’d worn it until recently. Everything started to click into place, but I kept it to myself. I realized we were in trouble, with the phony MP to collect us from Camp Phoenix. When he released my hand, I repeated my question, “Tell me, what’s going on?”

  “Yeah, I will. Soon. First, take off those guns, real slow.”

  “Fuck you!” Rachel exclaimed. “You want our guns, you’d better try and take them.”

  “I’d be happy to take them off your dead bodies, if you prefer.”

  We both whirled around at this new threat. Kyle McDonald, Ed Walker’s henchman. That reminded me, where was his former buddy, Saul Madden, who we’d left guarding the aircraft? McDonald read my expression correctly. “You’re wondering about your friend, that traitor Saul Madden? Don’t worry, he won’t be coming to help you out, he made a big mistake.”

  “What was that?”

  “He got in my way, so I had to deal with him. Permanently. But he sure screamed a pretty tune while I carved him up. I dumped his remains outside the airfield where the dogs could have themselves a feast.” He belly laughed, a vicious psychopath who’d stop at nothing to inflict pain and injury, and purely for his own personal pleasure. Ashford interrupted him.

  “That’s enough, McDonald. You want to know what’s up? Here’s the deal. You’re gonna fly this aircraft out with the shipment already loaded, pick up a return load, and deliver it to Peshawar. You’ll be leaving in less than thirty minutes, so you can say your goodbyes.”

  “To whom?”

  “To the pretty lady. She’s staying here with me. Kyle will go with you, and if there’s any funny business, the girl will go the same way as Saul Madden. Savvy?”

  I nodded.

  “Now take off those guns, it’s the last warning.”

  We unbuckled the canvas holsters and dropped them on the floor.

  “Good. Now get into the fucking plane and get it into the air. Kyle will give you the landing coordinates when you’re airborne.”

  I looked at Rachel. “I’m sorry, I don’t think I have any choice.”

  She nodded. “Go and deal with his cargo. I’ll be waiting for you when you get back.”

  “Yeah, very touching.” McDonald sneered. “Now do what the boss says, and fly that plane.”

  Ashford took hold of Rachel’s arm and led her away. “She’ll be safe here,” he shouted over his shoulder. “Very safe, believe me. Just get up in the air and get that cargo delivered.”

  “I’ll be back,” I shouted to Rachel.

  McDonald sneered. “This isn’t a movie, Hoffman. Now move!”

  Roy Waverley was still writing on his clipboard as we came out. He looked at us curiously but said nothing as we climbed aboard the Twin Otter. When I looked out of the window, he was still staring, looking straight up at me. McDonald sat in the co-pilot’s seat with his pistol drawn to cover me. He watched as I went through the pre-flight checks and called the tower for clearance. Once more, the CIA chief had smoothed the way, and we were given the go right away. Minutes later, we were in the air.

  “I need a heading, McDonald.”

  “North west.”

  “Is this going to be the same field as before?”

  “Maybe. Just fly the plane.”

  I didn’t ask again, but the coordinates were already in the navigation computer, so I punched in the memory recall and sat back while the autopilot took over. After an hour, McDonald checked his watch and decided it was the moment to hand me the coordinates. The watch, that reminded me of Joe Ashford, and the link with the Taliban commander. First, I needed to get us out of this situation, next, to make a decision on what to do about Ashford. I smiled inwardly; taking down Ashford would end the financial arrangement that bailed out the airline. But that was the way it would have to be, conducting business with traitors, drug runners, thieves and murderers was not my style. We arrived over the field, and I made a preliminary pass to check that nothing had changed, but it looked clear enough. I landed, turned the aircraft arou
nd, and taxied to where a group of SUVs waited. McDonald gestured with the gun.

  “Outside, Hoffman. I’m not leaving you on your own in the cockpit.”

  I shrugged. “Suit yourself.”

  I felt disappointed. I’d hoped to be able to use the radio. A group of Afghan men made haste to unload the cargo. They wore black turbans, and although I couldn’t be certain, I felt sure they were the enemy. Not all Taliban wore black turbans. Some rival tribes who weren’t Taliban wore them, but their arms and equipment screamed insurgents. This was no ordinary Afghan warband or drug dealer’s bodyguard. They started to load the crates that had been stacked on the ground, and the aircraft filled with the pungent smell of opium. So that was it; a straight swap, guns for the Taliban, and drugs for Joe Ashford to sell on. McDonald saw my expression and sneered.

  “Yeah, it’s opium, Hoffman. You’re now part of one of the biggest business operations in the world.”

  “So why doesn’t it feel good to be involved with something that causes so much death and misery?”

  “That’s tough,” he chuckled. “If you want to feel good, just be happy that you’re still alive. For now.”

  I didn’t reply. The loading ended, and I went into the hold to make sure the cargo was secure, and I found that they’d tossed it in an untidy heap. If it shifted in mid-flight, we’d probably lose control and plunge into the ground. I estimated at least two tons of cargo, and a lot of weight to suddenly slide loose in the air.

  “This needs to be lashed down,” I said to McDonald.

  “So?”

  “So it’s a two-man job. I’ll need a hand.”

  He grimaced. “I reckon you should be able to handle it yourself, but if you really need me, I’ll do it.”

  I didn’t need him, and it wasn’t a two-man job. But I’d hoped to get him close enough to tackle him without fear of him getting a shot at me. It was not to be. He kept the other side of the cargo from me and gave me an evil grin when I asked him to come around and help me. When it was done, I fastened the door shut and went forward again to the cockpit. My shadow slipped into the co-pilot’s seat beside me. I started the engines, and with the brakes on, gunned them up until they were screaming. McDonald started to look nervous.

  “What the fuck are you doing, Hoffman?”

  “I need the aircraft to accelerate fast when I take the brakes off. This field is too short for a normal take-off. Does it worry you?”

  “Fuck off,” he snarled.

  It was a small victory. I released the brake, and we shot forward for the difficult take-off. When we were in the air, I turned to my guard.

  “I assume we’re still heading for Peshawar?”

  He nodded. “You’ve got it. He was planning to hop a military flight and wait for us there. So get a move on, Mr. Ashford will be waiting.”

  “Ashford? I thought he was in Kabul with Rachel. What’s happened to her?”

  “Don’t worry, it’s all organized. Your woman will be waiting for you in Kabul when you get back.”

  If I get back, I reflected. The only consolation was that he needed me to fly his illegal cargoes; at least until he found someone else to do it.

  “Who is with Rachel? Who’s looking after her?”

  “No one.” He looked over at me with a broad smile, enjoying my discomfort. “The little lady is safely locked up in a storage locker inside the hangar. You’ll get all the details to release her when the job’s finished.”

  But there was something in his eyes. Whatever they planned, it wasn’t to tamely let us go. Either they’d kill us both to stop details of their scheme reaching the military, or they’d keep her prisoner to ensure my cooperation. I had no choice but to follow their instructions, and to find a way out of the mess the second I had the slightest opportunity. I went through scores of different ideas to turn the tables on them, but not one of them would ensure Rachel’s safety. I was surprised when I realized we were on the approach to Peshawar. The voice came through my headphones, jarring me out of my thoughts.

  “Unidentified twin-engine aircraft heading out of Afghanistan for Peshawar, identify.”

  I came awake. “Peshawar, this is Helene Air flight to Peshawar requesting clearance to land.”

  “What was your departure airport, Helene Air?”

  I hesitated, but there was only one reply I could give them. “Kabul International.”

  “One moment. Keep on your course.”

  They knew very well that I hadn’t come from Kabul. We’d crossed the mountains on a heading from the south west of Jalalabad. Would this be the opening I needed? The voice came back.

  “Thank you, Helene Air. You are already cleared to land. Come straight in to the main runway and taxi to the Double Eagle hangar. The cargo handlers are waiting for you.”

  Ashford. Of course, he’d arranged it all, and maybe he had the cooperation of the Pakistani Security Service, the ISI. But however he’d done it, it meant that one of my plans to turn the tables, by making the landing at Peshawar so suspicious that the authorities boarded the aircraft to check it out, had been trumped. I dropped down onto the runway and slowed at the end, following my instructions to taxi to the hangar. I saw Ashford straight away. There was a group of locals dressed in the usual rags, and in the center of them Ashford, taller, bigger, and much more imposing. I stopped next to them, shut down, and went aft to unfasten the door. Ashford’s face greeted me with a grin.

  “You’re on time, Hoffman. Well done. Now get down off that aircraft, and my men will unload the cargo. It’s very valuable, believe me.” He laughed then. “Oh yeah, it’s valuable alright.” He looked at McDonald as the mercenary appeared beside me. “Stay with him, Kyle. Don’t let him out of your sight.”

  “No worries, boss. If he even breathes, it’ll be his last.”

  “Yeah, good idea,” Ashford nodded absently. “Go around the side of the hangar. I don’t want anyone seeing what goes down.”

  McDonald gestured with his pistol, and we both climbed down. He came behind me so that there was no way I could tackle him. So this would be it. There was no question that the man was going to kill me, and no doubt they had arranged for another aircraft and pilot. I was no longer useful to them. I had to take the chance soon, or it would be all over. We turned the corner, out of the beam of the overhead cargo unloading lights that lit up the front of the hangar, and I made my move. I slowed a little, just enough to let him catch up, then swiveled around and lashed out with my leg to bring him down. But he’d been waiting for me. He stepped back, and my leg only hit fresh air.

  “You fucking amateur, Hoffman. You thought I’d fall for that? You must be crazy.”

  He held up his pistol, and I saw his finger tighten on the trigger. It all happened in slow motion. His teeth gleamed in the darkness, and I noticed for the first time that two of them were missing. He hadn’t shaved for days, and his stubble showed coarse on his sallow face. His eyes were dilated and the pupils huge. He was getting a rush form what he was about to do. I tensed my muscles for one last, despairing leap for the gun. It was all I had left. Then there was a soft ‘plop’, and a dark hole appeared on his chest. Blood flowed down his front to stain his shirt. His eyes widened as his face took on a puzzled expression. His fingers opened, the gun fell to the ground, and he toppled with a crash. I was stunned. What the hell had happened? I stood for what seemed like an eternity, shaking with the tension as adrenalin poured into my body, and my mind went into overload.

  “Max, are you ok?” a voice whispered through the darkness.

  I turned to see Luk walking towards me, carrying his sniper rifle with a huge silencer attached.

  “Luk!”

  “Schh, Ashford is still around there. Are you hurt in any way?”

  “No,” I whispered. “What about Rachel?”

  “You wouldn’t keep me away from this for a million dollars,” a familiar voice rang out in the darkness. Then she limped towards me out of the gloom, and we ran to each other. I held
her tight.

  “How…?”

  “It’s ok, Max, we’re ok. Let’s get ourselves out of here.”

  “But who…?”

  “Waverley, Ashford’s manager in Kabul. He was suspicious and came looking around the hangar after Ashford had gone and found me. I got your destination from him and went to find Luk.”

  “But, how did you get to Peshawar?”

  “I hired a Cessna Air Taxi on short notice and flew it in.”

  “It must have cost a fortune! We haven’t got any money.”

  “Hey, your fiancée ain’t exactly broke, you know. I have got some cash from my pension.”

  “I don’t know what to say,” I muttered.

  “That’s ok, don’t say anything. We need to deal with Ashford. Don’t worry, Luk and I have a plan.”

  “You’re not going to kill him!”

  “No, he’s too powerful. We just need to make a deal. He lets us go, and we shut up about what he’s up to. At least for the time being.”

  I hated the thought of him getting away, but she was right, he was much too powerful and well connected for us to touch him.

  “One second, there’s something I need.”

  I stooped down and picked up McDonald’s pistol that he’d dropped. Rachel carried a pistol in her belt, and Luk had his rifle. It was enough. We walked around the end of the hangar and into the light. Ashford looked up, saw the three of us armed, and smiled. I gave him credit for a quick recovery. He showed no sign of any concern.

  “Well, well. So your little friend showed up.” He grinned at Rachel. “I trust you were comfortable during your stay in your new quarters at Kabul International?”

  “Fuck you, Ashford,” Rachel intoned, but there was little expression in her voice, other than a trace of contempt.

  “Oh dear, that bad, was it?” he laughed. Then his smile faded, and he turned to me. “What happens now, Hoffman? Or is this some kind of a Mexican standoff?”

  “We fly out and leave you here.”

  “And Kyle McDonald? I assume your friends killed him?”

  “After he tried to kill me, yes.”

  He nodded, and I could see the wheels turning in his brain. Another loose end taken care of, that’s all it meant to him. “And what happens when you get back to Kabul? I guess you’ll spill your guts to ISAF?”