The former banker felt his cheeks burn but the moment passed and the men’s eyes were once again on their commander.
Captain Taylor said: “So, we’re lucky to have these. The newly formed Delta/SAS element has been devastating ISIS using them, moving in with the Chinooks to around 50 miles of the enemy and then riding in close enough to snipe the bastards! They’ve been killing about a dozen a day I’m told, incredible success. Perfect strike and withdraw tactics.” Taylor shook his head from side to side in appreciation of the bold and brilliant war tactics.
The men were all nodding their heads in appreciation and Mark had the distinct feeling they were all wishing they had been assigned the snipe, kill and withdraw mission rather than actually going after a sniper who had himself been killing from behind the mist.
Captain Taylor suddenly looked up as if remembering something important and then stared directly at Sniper Lee. “By the way Lee, the Delta boys are loving the Shadow equipment I’m told.” A sly grin cornered the Captain’s lips in a knowing tell of what the words would mean to his trusted Sharpshooter.
Sniper Henry Lee looked genuinely enraged as though he had just received word that another man was sleeping with his wife. Which would have been impossible since he was single and unattached -- except to his rifle of course.
“With all due respect, Captain. It’s not Shadow equipment if it’s not my equipment. If they’re using it then it should be referred to by it’s given name – nanite technology or whatever. And after this mission is over I’m going to need it back, I’m sure you would agree, Boss?” His tone suggested he had just issued an order rather than just asked his commander a question.
Andrews wasn’t used to Captain Taylor being spoken to in such a tone, it wasn’t rude or insubordinate, it just wasn’t as full of respect as usual.
It took the rest of the men the best of their control to stop themselves from laughing uncontrollably. And Mark could see why – Lee looked as though he was literally going to explode.
“Separation issues, Shadow?” jibed White.
“Did daddy give your toys to the other boys?” put in West.
“Harry Potter lose his invisibility cloak?” said Danny.
For a moment Mark thought that Lee was actually going to detonate and then suddenly and quite contrary to what Mark thought was about to happen, Lee smiled.
“Cunts, the lot of you!” said Lee through a smiling veneer.
The men laughed with their sharpshooter.
“Besides, Lee. I’m still not so sure I like you being invisible, where ‘s the honour in that? Doesn’t seem fair” said Captain Taylor.
“He’s right you know, mate. It’s better that the enemy at least has a chance of seeing you” said White.
“I suppose you’re right and I suppose it’ll be good to find out if I’ve still got what it takes without my equipment.”
“We’ll soon find out, Lee. We’ll soon find out.”
“Back to business, boys. Lee, Andrews you’re Sniper Element. Jones and West you two are our security element. White – you’re on comms and 2IC.”
The men nodded their understating to what they already knew but good planning and military preparation deemed they be told their assigned roles one final time.
“We’re not going into Raqqa, hopefully, it would be near suicide. I told our local fixer to get word to ISIS command, as though he were betraying us, that we were on the way and that if we made it into Raqqa we would be calling in airstrikes.”
“Ah, that’s why he was so pissed off and left in such a hurry” said White.
“Exactly and that’s even after I paid him double his fee. And he’ll make even more money by selling that ‘Intel’ to the Islamic State!”
“So you’re hoping they’ll send their sniper after us before we get into Syrian land?” said Lee.
“Exactly. But it’s only a hope. If we don’t come across him on our way in then there is no way around it; we’ll have to head for the de facto capital of the Islamic State, Raqqa” said Captain Taylor who then showed his disgust by spitting into the ground.
Mark wasn’t sure if his commander’s disgust was for the suicidal mission they had been sent on or rather for ISIS.
“But what guarantees do we have that they will send a sniper? And even if they do, how do we know they will send this so called Ghost?”
“We have no guarantees, none. But I told our fixer to let ISIS command know that he repeatedly heard us say that the only thing we were worried about was coming under attack by a well trained sniper as we would not be able to call in air support without potentially causing massive civilian casualties.”
“It might just work, Boss. Trouble is now this, Ghost, will know to take up position among civilian building, schools, hospitals and the like, to be safe from our air support” said Lee.
“That’s why we have you Lee, and you Mark. Our best versus their best. Sniper against sniper.”
All the men nodded their heads in agreement and one by one looked at both Mark and Henry showing their respect and reliance on them to do their jobs.
“Let’s rest here for an hour, get some water and food in us and we’ll move out refreshed and fully charged.”
Sniper vs. Sniper.
Final Chapter – Sniper Fight!
Akçakale, Turkey.
Sixteen of some the Islamic State’s hardest and most veteran fighters sat in a circle on mats on the floor in the main room of a large compound on the outskirts of the Turkish Border town, Akçakale.
Just a few miles north of their current location was the sprawling, hopeless, refugee camp located in Sanliurfa, one of 15 built by the Turkish government to help the estimated 100 000 Syrians seeking sanctuary in Turkey. The Akçakale camp originally built to host 23,000 people was now home to more than 36,000 individuals who had fled from the war in Syria and the Islamic State.
The men had been debating for the best part of an hour the most advantageous place to ambush the small team of British Special Forces who, they believed, had been sent to rescue the British journalist. They had last been seen by local men loyal to ISIS less than two hours earlier, passing within a mile of a tiny farm approximately 70 miles from Akçakale.
The door to the room opened and three men and one young man entered. The arguing and gesticulating amongst the IS fighters slowly stopped as they recognised the two mercenaries, the hired guns from the warrior tribe. The Sniper Ash’abah.
Aarzam acknowledged their show of respect and nodded his head. Then one of the older fighters, who seemed to be their commander, stood and gestured for the new arrivals to sit and join in their council. The driver and his companion who had brought Ash’abah to this meeting quickly explained that they had to get back to their commander and they both left the room. A little too quickly for Aarzam’s liking.
The old war lord and mercenary watched the door close behind the men who had, without actual force, affected his presence here, and then spoke in their native tongue to the sixteen men who now sat in front of him.
“Know this brothers. I am not here of my own will, not entirely, but I will carry out my.. orders.”
The old warrior let his words sink in and paused just long enough to let his authority be stamped onto the impromptu mission briefing. Ali standing by his grandfather’s side stood stock still. His eyes unmoving, his breathing calm and slow.
Satisfied that he had their full attention and deference, Aarzam continued: “The men who brought me here explained only this; that I am to engage with a small team of British Special Forces who have been directed to try and free hostages held in Raqqa. But our commander wishes that these Special Forces never enter even into Syrian lands as he has intelligence that they will bring with them air support and further destruction to the Islamic State’s capital. I was told there would be men here to support this cause, am I to take it that this is it? Sixteen men if my count is not incorrect.”
“That is correct, we may only number sixteen, warlord,
but we are all tried and tested and confident of our abilities in battle and have all fought in many gunfights against the Americans and the British” said the ISIS commander.
“Then so be it. As I entered I heard you debating on where to ambush this party of British, what are the options and how can you guarantee they will appear where you decide to strike?”
Aarzam then took his seat as did Ali next to him and the ISIS fighters started poring over maps of the city. Fifteen minutes later and the decision had been made.
“So you can guarantee the British will pass this point and if they don’t there is only one other logical location where they will be and we will have time to get there?” said Aarzam. It was more of a statement than a question.
“Yes, it is illogical for them to take any other route. And the fixer who supplied us with the information in the first place tells us that he overheard the British say they were thinking about going to visit the place to get more intelligence from an informant” said the ISIS commander.
“That makes sense as the place will be a goldfield of information, and all those there hate us” said one of the other extremists.
“It seems too risky to me, these British SAS don’t like to show themselves” put in another of the Islamic State fighters.
Aarzam shook his head. “It will be logical as there are two factors on our side here: First, they don’t know that we know that they are coming. And secondly they will be expecting to engage any enemy in Syria itself. They will not be expecting to be attacked on Turkish soil, especially not in a refugee site, they, along with the rest of the world, still believe this town to be fully under the control of the Turkish Army. The plan is solid. We need to move immediately if we are to make it to the refugee camp in time to spring our surprise, let’s go!”
The ISIS group now numbering 18 extremist fighters took up their arms and prepared to leave to set up an ambush of the SAS Para-Ops team while protected by the human shields of some 36 000 innocent Syrian women, old men and children. The ambush point had been decided.
*****
The SAS Para-Ops Kill Team lay prone under some large trees at the top of a low hill, their quad bikes hidden at the foot of the knoll out of site of the sprawling refugee camp that they now surveyed. Captain Taylor had his second in command and security element on his left and his sniper component to his right.
He looked through his binoculars and took in the depressing scene below. Hundreds of white tents built in neat rows in a camp surrounded by a wire fence. Only a few hundred of the thousands of refugees who now sheltered here could be seen walking between the marquees.
“It looks more like a prison than a place of refuge, Boss” said White.
“Indeed, depressing. What do you think, Lee?”
Both Lee and Andrews were now in full ghillie suits and had also been observing the camp with their respective optics, Lee always looking at life through the prism of cross-hairs.
“Looks quiet, Boss. I see no sign of any Tangos or Turkish Military or even local law enforcement. It looks like they have left the refugees pretty much to themselves.”
“Are you picking up anything else.. unusual?” said Captain Taylor referring to his sniper’s bionic eye.
“Negative, Boss, just a lot of heat signatures, which is to be expected of course.”
“Okay, I don’t like it but at this point we have no other choice. Command has given us no more useful Intelligence and there must be a ton of valuable information we can get by speaking to our Rat down there who has been imbedded in that camp gathering communiqués for us for weeks now.”
“I think I have spotted the latrine where our guy will have been going at around this time each day as directed” said White.
The six men followed the pointing hand of White and saw the block of two toilets that had been designated as the meet point where their infiltrator had been directed to attend twice each day in case contact had to be made. It was out of the main compound and about a three minute walk from the main entrance. There was red tape loosely wrapped around both doors and a large out of order sign printed in multiple languages above each booth.
“If he has been following his directives correctly then he should be there within ten minutes, Captain” said White while looking at his watch.
“Okay, get on the Net for me one last time, Sergeant, and find out whether Command has any more useful Int for us before old Jones here goes in” said Captain Taylor while turning and grinning at Lance Corporal Daniel Jones – the lowest ranking of the soldiers who had been given the honour of dressing like a local to make contact with informants.
“And dirty yourself up a bit more, you look as clean as a Squaddie!” said the Captain.
The men stifled a laugh and Jones began rubbing dirt onto his face and clothes.
“And while you are on comms and if they haven’t got anything new for us let them know we’re going in and ask them to get eyes on, if possible” said the commander to White as he laboured back down the hill to his quad and communications equipment.
The men fell silent and continued to survey the massive camp.
“Anything, yet, Mark?” said Captain Taylor.
And for all the world Andrews wanted to give his commander some useful information, anything. But he simply had none.
Mark shook his head.
“Are you still taking the meds?” said Taylor while looking embarrassed for even asking.
“Yes, John. Of course but I think, maybe, maybe it’s cured me completely rather than, than given me a closer forewarning of things to come.”
The SAS commander nodded his head but said nothing. It was at this point that Mark realised that his own usefulness on operations like this was as important to his friend as it was to him. If he, or rather his ‘gift’, as others seemed to like referring to it, held no value on the ground then his Captain would be laughed at by his peers and his project and vision for a Para-Normal fighting element surely scrapped.
For not the first time on this operation Mark Andrews wished the earth beneath his large body would simply open up and devour him.
Ten minutes later and Sergeant White was once more by the side of his commander.
“Command has no new Int, Boss. And no birds in the sky. The only available drone is currently running surveillance for another operation” said the 2IC.
“For fuck’s sake! They truly are hanging us out to dry on this one” cursed the Captain, which was highly out of character for the man who hated profanity.
“Very well. Jones, stand by. Any sign of our Rat?”
“Negative, Boss. He’s either not going to show or he is running late. He should be there by now” said White looking once more at his G-Shock.
“We’ll give it another fifteen, these guys are never on time” said Taylor who looked highly agitated.
Fifteen uncomfortable minutes later and there was no sight of any informant.
“All right, lads, that’s it. We’re going to have to withdraw and rethink this.”
The men began to slowly back up down the hill when Andrews called out.
“There! Someone’s just walked out the camp and towards the toilets.”
All the men got back into position and put their optics to where the “special consultant” was gesturing. Sure enough they all laid eyes on a man in his early thirties wearing old denim jeans and a white t-shirt with the words “Eminem” across the front.
“That’s him, Captain. Look on his right cheek above his moustache, a scar. And on his left arm a type of tattoo, some sort of tribal marking. Perfectly matches the description in his handler’s notes.”
“Thank God, for that. All right Danny, get down there. But circle out as discussed at the bottom of the hill through that clearing, don’t give our position away, just in case someone is watching.”
Lance Corporal Daniel Jones did as instructed without complaint or comment and the men watched him descend the hill and disappear out of sight before reemerging a few mi
nutes later walking alongside a dirt road towards the designated meeting point.
“Is that a real possibility, Captain?” said Andrews.
“Is what a real possibility, Mark?”
“That someone might be watching us?”
“No. Not really. Not here on Turkish soil, although you never can be too certain in this region, either way we don’t want to do anything to attract any unwanted attention. That is all.”
*****
The Kill Team on the hill watched as Lance Corporal Jones entered the toilet cubicle to the right, the informant having already entered the one to the left only a couple of minutes earlier.
SAS Para-Ops: MEGA SET - SAS Para-Ops Books #1, #2, #3, #4, #5 & #6 Page 23