Prelude To War: World War 3 (Steve Case Thriller Book 1)

by Phillip Strang

  The Secretary of State conceded that his initial reluctance for Archie’s plan had been wrong. It had been a region changing activity, and one which he felt that America could give to other countries facing similar problems. This was to be without Archie. He was off in eight days to his cottage in the English countryside, and he was not waiting around for the accolades, or the pressure for him to stay and assist those other troubled countries with his unique solution.

  He had another major activity to deal with first. He had to rescue Steve, although he did not know this yet.

  Fred was there primarily to talk about Russia and the plan of how to control the situation at the northern border. American troops stationed at bases in Afghanistan, in the south of the country, did not number more that fifteen thousand before the move by Russia to the border. That number had since been bolstered to forty thousand. It was regarded as a suitable number, although significantly less than the Russians. Additional military backup was scattered in military bases throughout Europe, and additional could be brought in from the USA, if it was vital.

  America was not at the front line, but they were not far away, and they were fully prepared. It was, of course, purely for show. America and Russia did not want this conflict, they both knew the consequences.

  The Russians however, did not have the people of Afghanistan at the north supporting them. The Afghans would fight with a tenacious vengeance to stop the crossing of their border. America had been careful not to give the Warlords additional and more modern weapons, but the Afghan army was well supplied with the latest American hardware.

  Archie gave a comprehensive update on the situation with the Taliban. It was now clear they were a decimated force and a minimal concern. There was the issue of a power vacuum in areas where they had previously held sway, and that the local Warlord or village strongman would endeavour to take control. He clearly pointed out that it would be possible to deal with these people at a later date. They are not the Taliban. They are individuals with no firm ideologies, and they are controllable.

  The people present at the meeting were pleased with what Archie was telling them. They were not too impressed with some of the collateral damage reports that were emanating from Pakistan of the Pakistani Army’s controlling of the Taliban. A bombing of a madrassa close to Quetta had been excessive, and at least two hundred innocent people had been killed. It was always distressing when it happened, but in all wars, it is often the innocents who suffer the most.

  The Pakistan army had taken back control of Waziristan as well, but it had been a hard battle, and the casualties had been high.

  The reports of the operatives who had lost their lives, and some of their families who were ultimately killed were of concern, but the Council was resolute that those families should be given every opportunity in the future.

  Archie was clear in his analysis that on day 28 that the exercise could be declared complete. He also knew that whereas the C.I.A. and U.S military may have completed; the Pakistan military would continue.

  Pakistan, whereas it was looking extremely fragile as a trusted partner of America, had shown that yet again a re-evaluation may be necessary. If they can control the situation on the Pakistan side of the border, then the Iran option may not be needed.

  That, at least, is what all the mandatory attendees of the Security Council hoped for. Iran was always a contentious option, Pakistan they knew, and whereas they were subject to internal issues they spoke the same language, and they understood the same realities. Allowing Iran any leeway with their nuclear program would only exacerbate tensions with Israel.

  Fred, forty pounds lighter than at the meeting in Dubai, even the president commentated on how good he was looking, spoke with George’s assistance about Russia. He concisely laid out a plan of how the inevitable discussions were likely to unfold. He was clear that to offer any potential compromises at the present time would be tantamount to failure. The Russian government would need to push America to the limit. They needed to show to their people their superiority, even if it was not true.

  Fred was clear in the think tanks evaluation that the discussions were to be taken to the limit even if that limit looked like war. Then, and only then could the pressure be relaxed and the offers made.

  It was clear that moving the wealth out of Afghanistan to the South was not the ideal. Certainly, a significant amount could go south through Pakistan, but the majority would be go north. The countries on the northern border had the facilities for refining the oil, and the pipelines to transport the oil and the gas were present in Turkmenistan. If Russia was given control of the transportation of the resources in sufficient quantity, America would not object, subject to commercial agreements being in place.

  Fred summarised. ‘Russia will move its troops back to their own territory. They will be able to claim that they have protected their former Soviet friends from American aggression, and secured a great economic victory for Mother Russia.

  Those countries to the north of Afghanistan and the other countries that had been part of the former Soviet Union would clearly see that Russia was conciliatory, that it was no longer aggressive, and they could relax in the protective stance of their borders.’

  It was simplicity, and the National Security Council were staggered. The debate continued, but it was clear, they had a solution.

  Chapter 27

  Steve had been in the country for a long time, much longer than he would normally have contemplated. He had not seen Megan for at least six months.

  Steve had been actively controlling and monitoring the covert operatives. He did not always have the latest information on the progress of the Taliban elimination exercise, although he was aware that it was progressing successfully.

  Trips to the regions were increasingly rare. Kandahar had fallen to the Taliban, Mazar and Herat were still possible, but he did not go often. Transcontinental Systems personnel in the regions had also been curtailing their out of office activities.

  Then something happened; some of the company people in the regions that would have kept in regular contact appeared not to be available. Engineers and technicians that would usually have been able to move around the big cities without too much trouble were being harassed. Questions obliquely were being asked about Steve. Those asking would only mention the American.

  Steve reported this back to his superiors, who were now registering concern about his continued stay in the country. They preferred him to stay for now while they correlated all that he had achieved. Steve always travelled with security now, carried two phones and was equipped with GPS tracking devices attached to him at all times.

  It was day twenty-two since the Taliban elimination exercise had commenced. Steve had been fully occupied, collating the updates and passing them on to the Command Centre. Faheed, his trusted coordinator, failed to appear in the office one day. Two days passed and still no sign. At two hours after he had been declared missing, his family were moved out to a safe house. They were, as expected, confused and frightened, but at least they were safe.

  Faheed’s position was not as good. The Taliban had grabbed him off the street up near the Ministry of Communications building in the centre of town. The Taliban was a diminished force; their influence was significantly reduced, so any action from them was not expected. A lot of the personnel in Steve’s office had been feeling calmer in the last couple of weeks. The black turbans and the long beards were not seen in the outlying suburbs of Kabul, and it was assumed that it was safer. It was not totally safe, and Faheed had obviously found out to his disadvantage. Bin Laden at one stage in Pakistan had gone clean shaven, to allow him to move around more freely.

  Faheed had been bundled into an old yellow Toyota Corolla taxi, and thrust in the back seat between two scrawny maligned individuals who showed him no consideration. There were so many taxis around the city it would not be possible to recognise purely by description, and nobody took any notice of a number plate. They took him to a desolate loo
king house on the outskirts of the city on the way to Lataband, the old pass down to Jalalabad.

  He was tied up and pushed roughly into the corner of a room that smelt badly of decaying flesh. It was a room specially reserved for special guests, and none was more special than Faheed was to be, at least until they had told him what they wanted to know.

  Faheed wasn’t the first to receive the special treatment; some of the operatives around the country had been caught. There was Syed down near Kandahar, and then they had picked up Khushal, close to one of the training camps in Waziristan. They were both reporting into Faheed. Both had gone missing the week before, both had given them Faheed’s name. Syed’s family was rescued and moved out. Khushal, they were too late, his whole family were killed, their throats slit.

  As for Faheed, his torture was to be of such severity that he would reveal all that they wanted to know within a very short period of time. He would have told them anything that they wanted to hear.

  There was only one question for him. Who was in charge of operations for the exercise that was perpetrated against the Taliban? They knew it was someone in the country. They could have used a process of elimination to deduce the obvious answer, but that would have required analysis and subtle reasoning. Those that had picked up Faheed had none of those skills. These were the special torture squad, devoid of any compassion, fuelled with the ideals of the Taliban ideology. Besides, they enjoyed the torture of another human, and they placed no value on anybody who did not share their views, and besides Faheed wasn’t even Pashtun, he was Tajik.

  They asked no questions until they had carried out their gruesome task. They had many ways open to them, but the quickest was just to beat him to a pulp, until it was almost impossible to recognise whether he was wearing clothes or not. Then came the real torture, and they ensured their beating in all its savagery would maintain him at least conscious and coherent. He would never walk again, his legs were broken beyond repair, and he would never be able to use his arms for any worthwhile purpose. He could only plead for death, but that would not come until he had supplied the vital information.

  Salt was rubbed into the open wounds, and the more he screamed, the more he was beaten, and the more the salt was rubbed in. He held out for as long as he could, and then he told them all they wanted to hear. They learned about Steve, the other coordinators, the way the information was passed back to the USA. Those he gave the information to, were incapable of understanding all that was spoken, but they had an old cassette recorder. They then granted Faheed his wish and slit his throat. They threw his carcass to the mangy dogs that were always hanging around.

  ***

  Those that had killed Faheed had little difficulty in finding Steve as Faheed had been clear in his directions. They were smart enough to recognise that an open take in broad daylight was not ideal. It was one thing taking an Afghan; it was another thing to take an American. The best plan was to wait until nightfall and then wait for the opportune moment.

  The guesthouse was the best opportunity, they came late and quietly. There were eight of them, and they used two beat-up Toyota trucks. They looked like labourers off to work although the time of night seemed incongruous. It did not matter; Afghan security was always lax.

  They reached the guest house in Wazir Akbar Khan, engaged in harmless banter with the three security guards outside the main gate, before calmly slitting their throats. Once inside the house, the resident staff of two cooks and two housekeepers, all male, were dispatched in a similar manner. Their killings had been silent; no one else was stirring in the house. They knew there were three Westerners in the house, but they only wanted one, and they were not sure as to which room he was in. It did not matter. They would take all three.

  Steve and his colleagues were unable to resist, and they were roughly manhandled and taken to the waiting vehicles.

  In ten minutes, they had figured out who was Steve. As for the other two, Andy Scott from South Africa, and Phillip Tennant from Cornwall in the South of England, their throats were cut and they were dumped in the nearest ditch.

  The two had received a rapid demise. Their captors would have relished spending more time with them, but this time, the instructions were clear. They were to take the leader of the covert operation for special treatment.

  By the time, Steve arrived at the house where Faheed had met his demise, he was not in a fit state to take too much in. He realised that his two colleagues were no longer around, although he assumed they were safe. It would only be later that he would be told the truth, and it would upset him greatly.

  He saw some wild looking dogs when they arrived at the house chewing on some bones and flesh. If he had been it a better state of health, he might well have noticed the pieces of clothing.

  His hosts had informed some of their barbarous group in Mazar, as to where Faheed had lived. They had visited within a few hours and finding no one at home, they had burnt the house down and killed a few of the neighbours as a reminder about associating with the Western infidels.

  Steve’s fate was not to be as swift as Faheed’s. He had more detailed information that they wanted. They continued to beat him severely over the next few days, he was to receive no food or water, and very quickly, he became incapable of standing. One of his captors spoke some English, and told him they were waiting for their chief interrogator. The captor gave him some graphic descriptions of the torture available, and which he was hopeful of putting into practice in the near future.

  Back in the States, Steve’s movements had been recorded, they knew something was up. Archie had always maintained two persons to keep a watch on Steve at all times. The Taliban, when they visited the guest house had picked one of those up sitting in a truck about one hundred metres down the road, they had dealt with him in their inimitable fashion. No time for a throat slitting, they had just grabbed him, put a hand over his mouth and stuck a knife in his heart.

  They missed the other one, he had been watching from a guest house a few doors away, and he had seen what had happened.

  Archie was informed within minutes, and the full alert and extradition process swung into action. One of the monitoring devices did not appear to be functioning, but the other one seemed operational. They knew where he was within a twenty-metre radius. Unfortunately, this covered at least ten houses, and there was no question of knocking at the doors of each house, if it was going to alert his captors.

  Archie had the area staked out with his best guys; there was to be no rescue operation until they were sure as to where to direct their attention.

  They had found the two work colleagues of Steve, and they knew clearly what had happened at the guesthouse.

  Hassani, the chief interrogator, arrived after two days, although Steve had no idea of how long he had been in captivity. He had lost all sense of reason and clarity of thought.

  Those who had been staking out the area had been taking photos of all the vehicles and people moving in and out of the vicinity. Hassani registered immediately. He was unique in the Taliban, in that he was an educated and articulate person, who had received a university education in Pakistan. The Command Centre knew immediately that he was involved, and they knew which house he had gone into. The rescue plan was put into full operation, although they would have to wait.

  This needed to be subtle, the time of rescue needed to be carefully thought out, and they still needed the detail of where Steve was likely to be held.

  The best time seemed to be on Friday during afternoon prayers. They would not fail to maintain their prayer schedule; after all, it was the driving force behind their fundamentalist ideology. There were at least twelve hours to go, and in that time Steve would be close to death.

  Archie had been on the plane to Kabul soon after Steve had been taken. He had been to Afghanistan in the past, but he did not relish this visit. He was seriously concerned that what he may be bringing back was a body bag with Steve inside, but he could not sit calmly in the States. He needed to be
in the country controlling the operation.

  Stationing himself out at the American Embassy, it was the safest place in town, he planned to take part in the recovery operation.

  The Taliban exercise was coming to a conclusion, with The Pakistan military wrapping up a few problem areas. None of those that picked up Steve was on any elimination list, and they seemed to be prime candidates.

  Hassani was a Pashtun originally from near Jalalabad. His family had gone over to Pakistan along with millions of others when the Russians had come in the late seventies. Times had been good for him there, and he had been educated at the University of the Punjab in Lahore, out on Canal Road. He was certainly not Taliban material, but when some of his relatives had been killed by the U.S military in a drone missile attack that hit the wrong target, he found he had a fervour for the fundamentalist cause. He was an educated Taliban, whose belief in the cause was not from the teachings of a Mullah in Quetta, but by his own rational deduction. He was the most dangerous of fundamentalists.

  He went to see the barely conscious American. Hassani spoke flawless English and was a cultured man. He may have been cultured, but the methods he would use to obtain the information he wanted, were far from that.

  Hassani recognised that the Taliban was close to being finished, and that the fundamentalist group would need to dissipate and vanish from sight for a few years, but he knew that they would rise again. He may well be the person to lead them.

  He gave Steve the option to talk freely first. He knew that he would not. He instructed his torture squad to tie Steve by the ankles and hang him upside down from the ceiling, as though he was a piece of meat. Firstly, they beat him severely, rubbing some salt into the wounds before the stringing up, then they beat him some more and left him. He was to be there for at least four hours, the blood rushing to his brain kept him conscious. He was then taken down, and the same treatment repeated. When he could take no more, they let him collapse on the floor and gave him some water and bread to eat. They had not done it out of compassion. They wanted him pliant to give them the information they wanted, they didn’t want him dead, at least not yet. Once they had the information, then a beheading or a slitting of the throat was the traditional execution of an infidel.