Stinger

by Stinger (retail) (epub)

  Dexy raised base on the satphone. ‘This is Raider Three. We’ve found the others. They’re dead.’

  ‘Compromised?’

  ‘No, killed in a landslide.’

  There was a pause. ‘And the mission?’

  ‘Will be carried out to schedule,’ Dexy said. He broke the connection.

  Rami stared at him. ‘We’ve got four trained men, two pilots and a woman. We’re going to attack one of the best-defended targets in Afghanistan. Be realistic. We haven’t got a chance.’

  Dexy’s eyes were cold. ‘The smaller the force, the greater the chance of getting through. And we can still carry enough kit to do the job.’ He paused. ‘Be glad you still have the chance, instead of lying there dead.’

  Rami turned back to the mound. ‘We’re dead anyway.’ He looked around for support, fastening on Jeff when the rest of us blanked him.

  Jeff cleared his throat. ‘Dexy’s right. If these guys have taught us anything, it’s how to die like men.’

  ‘You can say that?’ Rami said.

  Jeff ignored the sneer. ‘I was frightened before, I admit that. I’m not now.’

  Tank slapped him on the back. ‘You’re the man, Jeff. Spoken like an American.’

  We retrieved the bergens from beside the other two bodies and Dexy began sharing out the explosives and detonators between us. ‘Carry the maximum,’ he said. ‘Maximum explosives, maximum ammunition. Ditch anything we don’t need. Amica, you’d better lose that burka, it’ll be no protection where we’re going, anyway. Rami, you’re about her size – give her your spare trousers and jacket.’

  Amica took the clothes from Rami without a word. I saw the sheen of her olive skin and the curve of her breasts as she shrugged her burka over her head and shoulders. She pulled on the shirt and trousers, and handed me her knife. ‘Cut my hair,’ she said. ‘Crop it as close to the scalp as you can.’

  I made a few careful cuts, remembering the agony as mine had been hacked off by Salan in Kabul. She reached up and took my hand, pressing the blade down harder. ‘Quicker,’ she said. ‘You won’t hurt me.’

  I sawed at the hair until her feet were buried under the mound and her scalp showed through the black stubble. Then she wound a turban around her head. The looseness of the shirt hid the contours of her body and from a distance she might have been taken for a boy. She smiled at me, as if reading my thoughts. ‘If they get close enough to challenge us, it will make no difference.’

  I tried to lift my bergen on to my shoulders but then set it down again. To save weight, I discarded all my spare clothes and some of my rations. I ripped the sleeves off my spare shirt and made shoulder pads from them.

  ‘Let’s go,’ Dexy said.

  Tank held up his hand. ‘Wait a minute. Let’s at least rebury them.’

  Dexy shook his head. ‘Sorry, mate, we need all the time we’ve got.’

  We recrossed the river and moved off parallel to the track. As the walls of the valley narrowed around us, the trail we were following petered out, ending at the collapsed wall of an irrigation channel carved out of the side of the mountain.

  We clambered over the rubble and walked along the bottom of the channel. The water was low and we worked our way along the edge, climbing over the biggest of the rocks.

  Finally the way was blocked by a barrier of boulders through which the river roared in a series of torrents. We climbed out and worked our way on through the fringes of the woods, trying to balance the use of cover against the need for speed.

  The village at the head of this section of the valley had disappeared. In its place was a mound of earth and rock like the one we had left behind us. Screened by the trees, we saw a handful of villagers digging into it with their shovels, picks and bare hands, searching for the dead. As we watched, a body in a dirt-smeared mauve burka was pulled from the rubble and carried away. The cries of the men and the shrill keening of the women echoed across the fields.

  We passed by unseen. Beyond the ruined village, my eye was caught by a crumbling monument in the undergrowth above the track. Unlike the dry-stone graves of the martyrs, this was a single massive stone, a carved obelisk. I parted the bushes and peered at it.

  The inscription was weathered, covered with lichen and pocked with bullet marks, but parts of it were still legible. ‘… ory of the three thousand British fighting men… down their lives for Queen and Country during the retreat from Kabul 18…’

  Dexy avoided my eye as I turned away, but I knew that he too had read the inscription.

  He led us on towards the head of the valley. Three miles beyond it was the target we were seeking.

  Chapter Thirteen

  It took several hours to cover those three miles. We advanced in short stages, lying up while Dexy proved the ground ahead of us, then closing up to him again. The heat was savage and clouds of insistent, biting flies buzzed around our heads.

  We lay up in the last of the cover, overlooking the point where the track narrowed and disappeared into the gloom of the ravine. There was a sangar on the clifftop above the entrance to the ravine, but it appeared to be unmanned. ‘I don’t know if that’s a good sign or a bad one,’ I said. ‘Either the Taliban have got complacent or there’s nothing worth guarding.’

  ‘We’ll know soon enough,’ Dexy said.

  We ate some rations, then he gathered us around him. ‘This will be the first RV. Emergency RV here.’ He jabbed his finger at the map. ‘And the War RV here. Moonrise is at 23.04. We’ll aim to be in and out before then.

  ‘As soon as it’s dark, Tank, Sean and I will recce the target. If we can find a route up or down the cliff face, we can bypass the sangar guarding the steps leading to the cave entrance. If we’re lucky, we might be able to lay the charges before the Taliban even know we’re there.

  ‘The rest of you wait for a signal on the net, then follow us in. Jeff and Amica will lie up close to the target with Rami, ready to give covering fire. Boon will watch the sangar. If we can’t find a climbable route, we’ll have to take out the guards in the sangar and do a frontal assault on the cave.’

  I knew that desperation rather than admiration had made Dexy trust me with a key role, a thought that made my nerves tighten as the shadows lengthened. By the time it was dark my heart was pounding.

  At last Dexy gave the signal to move. He led the way with me at his heels and Tank bringing up the rear. We crept on all fours through the last of the undergrowth, then flattened ourselves and belly crawled towards the ravine. I could hear the river thundering over the rocks below us.

  Part-natural, part-blasted from the rock face, the track wound round the wall of the ravine. We moved in short stages, in total silence. With the moon still below the horizon we had only faint starlight to guide us. I saw little ahead of me but the dark shapes of Tank and Dexy hugging the ground, worming their way forward along the track.

  We crawled, stopped and then crawled again. Finally I heard Dexy’s quiet voice. ‘Target in sight. I’m going to recce. Wait here, and check the cliff face for a climbing route. Tank, call the others forwards.’

  As he moved away, I saw the dim outline of the sangar beyond him. It was about a hundred yards away. A rough-hewn flight of steps led up the rock face, ending in a black hole sixty feet above the track, the entrance to the cave. I began to search the face of the cliff for handholds. At the top, half-hidden by a clump of mountain cedars, I glimpsed the curve of a satellite dish.

  Dexy was gone for fifty minutes. Even though I was looking for him, he moved so slowly and moulded himself to the rocks so well that he was only a few yards away when I saw him.

  ‘Three guards,’ he said. ‘All awake, but not very alert. What about the cliff?’

  ‘There’s a route,’ I said, pointing. ‘As far as I can tell there are only two tricky moves. About twenty feet up you have to make a lateral move right to catch that crevice. It looks a full armspread, for you certainly.’

  He nodded. ‘That’s all right, what’s the other pro
blem?’

  ‘There’s an overhang just below the cave entrance.’ I indicated the bulge in the rock. ‘There’s a crevice right under the overhang. If you wedge your hand in there and swing out and up, you should be able to catch the lip of the cave and pull yourself up – providing there’s no sentry in the mouth of it.’

  ‘The way I feel at the moment, I don’t fancy his chances.’

  A double click on the net showed that the others were now in position behind us, their weapons set. Dexy, Tank and I carried nothing but demolition charges in our bergens, with our Kalashnikovs slung over our shoulders.

  Dexy led the climb, following the route I’d picked out. The rock was rough and fissured, but to my relief there were few loose flakes to worry us. I inched upwards through the darkness, feeling as much as looking for the next handhold. Dexy braced himself before the lateral move, then swung out to the right, his arm fully extended. His fingers scrabbled and caught on the edge of the crevice, he paused, shifted his grip, then completed the move. I made it more easily. Tank did so only after two false starts.

  As Dexy moved on up the cliff face he dislodged a fragment of rock that skittered off the surface of the cliff above me. I thrust out my right hand, clinging on with the other. The rock hit my hand, then bounced away, but I stretched again and caught it on the tips of my fingers.

  I clamped myself to the cliff, my heart beating wildly, and it was a moment before I could recompose myself enough to transfer the rock to my pocket. I didn’t dare turn my head to look towards the sangar, but there was no sound, no challenge.

  We climbed on until Dexy reached the overhang. He was now no more than four feet below the entrance to the cave, separated from it only by the ledge. The steps were just to our left, but there was an expanse of rock in between, without the faintest trace of a handhold.

  Dexy paused and I heard his indrawn breath. He swung himself out and threw his hand up, but it fell short by a couple of inches. He swung back with a thud that forced the air from his lungs. His feet slipped, but his left hand held. He regained his position and tried again, but once more fell short.

  I reached above me, tugged at his leg and motioned him to the right. He hesitated, then moved out of my way. I climbed up in his place and jammed my left hand into the crack at the base of the overhang, using my thumb as a wedge to lock it into place. My bones would have to break before I could fall.

  The cold barrel of the Kalashnikov over my right shoulder touched my cheek. I glanced at Dexy’s face a couple of feet away and saw a flash of white as he bared his teeth in a smile of encouragement. I took three deep breaths and forced myself to focus only on the move I had to make, not the danger that might lie beyond it. Then I launched myself outwards and upwards. My right arm flailed through the air, my hand scraped against rock – but it dug in and held. I released my left hand and hauled myself upwards, the muscles in my arms screaming in protest at the extra weight of the bergen on my back.

  My eyes came level with the floor of the cave. I saw nothing ahead, only blackness. I groped with my left hand like a blind man, until I found a grip that would hold me. Then I was up and crouching on all fours, trying to quieten my breathing as I swung the Kalashnikov from my shoulder. There was still no noise or movement from inside the cave.

  I hesitated for a moment, unsure of my next move, then swung round and took the rope coiled around my waist. I lowered one end to Dexy and braced myself as he hauled himself up. A moment later Tank followed. We inched our way inside, out of sight of the guards in the sangar below.

  Dexy passed me his torch. ‘Count to three,’ he whispered. ‘Switch on, count three and then off again.’

  I heard the faint click as he and Tank slid the safety catches off their weapons. I flicked on the torch, the beam of which was narrowed by black tape to a thin strip. Two men lay sleeping on the floor of the cave; otherwise it was deserted. Tank moved silently to within a yard of them. He drew his combat knife and remained motionless as I played the torchlight around the walls.

  The cave was a single chamber, barely forty feet deep. A rough fireplace had been built near the entrance and the walls were blackened with smoke. A few sacks and crates were stacked against one wall. Dexy and I examined them in silence as Tank kept watch over the sleeping guards.

  I used my combat knife as a jemmy, prising open the lids of the crates. There was a squeak as a rusty nail came free and I froze and glanced behind me. One of the guards stirred in his sleep. I saw Tank lean down, one hand hovering above the man’s mouth, the other holding his knife an inch from the guard’s throat.

  The man’s breathing settled again. We waited a further minute, then resumed our work. I eased open the lid of the last crate and then exchanged a look with Dexy. The sacks and crates were full of plastic-wrapped blocks that looked like brown sugar. I felt sick. The cave was a store place all right, but for the morphine base the Taliban traded for guns, not the Stingers we were seeking.

  Dexy’s shoulders sagged for a moment, then he put a hand on my arm and steered me to the entrance. ‘Back the same way,’ he breathed.

  ‘The guards?’

  ‘Sleeping dogs.’

  Tank stole after us to the cave mouth and I took the strain as first Tank and then Dexy slid down the rope. As soon as I felt the weight go from it, I coiled it around my waist again, slung my rifle over my shoulder and began to lower myself over the ledge.

  I hung at full stretch from the fingertips of my right hand and began to swing myself backwards and forwards. Three times I scrabbled at the rock with my left hand but failed to catch hold before I swung away again. The fourth time, as I felt my grip loosening, I caught the edge of the crack, forced my hand into it and swung down beneath the overhang. I winced as the rock tore my fingers, but held on and worked my way back down the cliff face. Dexy was waiting for me at the bottom. The others had already begun to retreat the way we had come.

  Back at the RV, no one spoke for some minutes. We were all too dispirited. I looked at Dexy. ‘What now?’

  ‘We have to assume that the other attacks have gone in on schedule,’ he said. ‘The Taliban will know what we’re trying to do. It may take them a little longer to move troops up to this area because of the earthquake, but as soon as they can they’ll quadruple the guard on the Stingers – wherever they are – and then disperse them to other sites. If we don’t find the right cave in the next twenty-four hours we’re fucked.’

  ‘So what do we do?’

  He thought for a minute. ‘We go and see Agha Shah Azuin.’

  ‘Are you crazy?’ Rami said. ‘He told us he’d kill us.’

  ‘It’s a chance we have to take.’

  ‘He’s allied with the Taliban, for Christ’s sake.’

  ‘But it’s a marriage of convenience.’ Dexy looked around the circle of faces, trying to convince us. ‘I know him. His first priority is his family and his own people. We have to persuade him their safety depends on him helping us.’

  ‘And how do we do that?’

  ‘We haven’t got a carrot, so that just leaves the stick.’

  Rami stared at him. ‘We can’t compromise the security of the operation.’

  ‘It’s compromised already. Agha Shah Azuin recognised me and Sean. He knows we’re both British and he knows I’m SAS. When he hears about the other two attacks going in – assuming their intelligence proved more accurate than ours – he’s going to know exactly what we’re doing here and why. But he won’t blow our cover because I’m going to make him an offer which is as much in his interest as it is in ours.’

  Before anyone else could argue, he’d shouldered his bergen and begun the trek back down the valley.

  * * *

  We walked for the rest of the night and reached the village again just after dawn. A few farmers were already in their fields, but we made no attempt to hide ourselves. They ran ahead of us shouting a warning as we marched up the hill towards the mosque.

  Azuin strode out to greet us, his
face red with anger. His men stood behind him, fingering their rifles. ‘Is this how you heed my warning?’ he said. ‘You insult me.’

  Dexy held up a hand as the rest of us kept a wary eye on his men. ‘Agha Shah, I swear on the friendship we have shared and the respect I have for you that only the most dire emergency would have brought us back here. Let me tell you our problem in private. After that, I will accept whatever you decide.’

  ‘Even if it is your own death?’

  Dexy spread his hands wide. ‘Our lives are no longer in our hands, but in yours.’

  The warlord hesitated, then nodded. ‘Very well then, follow me.’

  He led us to his house, a fortress-like building on the outskirts of the village. Daru grinned and clapped his hands as he saw us approach, but his father ordered him away. The boy pretended to comply, but when I looked over my shoulder he was padding along behind me. He grinned and put his finger to his lips.

  Azuin led us through the house into a courtyard and shouted at his wives to bring tea. We sat in silence as they served us and withdrew, then he turned to Dexy. ‘Now you will tell me what has brought you here.’

  Dexy took a deep breath. ‘The Stingers that we supplied and trained the Mujahedeen to use in the war against the Sovs have now been turned against us by the Taliban. They are being used to shoot down not fighters and bombers, but planes carrying civilians – families, wives and children. Our mission is to destroy the Stingers before more innocent people die.’

  The warlord nodded. ‘And why have you come back to my village?’

  ‘Because the intelligence we were given is flawed. We went to attack a store cave last night but it contained no Stingers, only morphine base.’ He paused, studying Azuin’s face.

  ‘Why do you assume that my knowledge is any better than yours?’

  Dexy grinned. ‘Because I know you. This is your territory. Nothing happens here that you do not know of.’

  Agha Shah smiled, flattered. ‘And if I have such knowledge, why should I use it to help you against my allies, the Taliban?’