by Ray Carole
Walking 20 metres to the West of the truck Andrew started to erect the weather balloon. Gerry surveyed the area naturally to try and pick up any novice mistakes the Russians had made. The tent was the first schoolboy error, there were bound to be others he thought.
‘That’s me set up, scanning for targets,’ Sean confirmed.
‘Roger, keep giving commentary,’ Gerry acknowledged.
‘All static at tent, I have clear arcs of fire East to West. Let’s prefix the pyramids with cardinal positions as this works easy Gerry.’
‘Sounds good Sean, crack on.’
‘Okay, left pyramid is West, centre pyramid behind the tent is North and the pyramid to the right is East,’ Sean transmitted as he made himself comfortable underneath the truck and tucked himself into the right edge of the sastrugi.
‘That works for me Sean.’
Continuing Sean used his binoculars as it gave him a wider field of view of the target area without moving so much, as opposed to using the scope on his sniper rifle. Normally a sniper would have a number two who did this job but double-hatting was their only option today. Sean sensed things could start to unfold rapidly as a quick rush of adrenaline flushed through his body. As he was panning East with his binoculars something caught his eye. Panning back West it wasn’t imaginary. Sure enough the huge white hood with a furry wolf ruff around the rim, had caught his eye. It was to the East of the tent, right behind East pyramid.
‘Fuck me this is happening, Sully was on the money,’ Sean muttered under his breath.
‘Stand by, stand by that’s one Russian behind East Pyramid with an assault weapon, wait.’ Wait means do not interrupt.
Gerry turned without showing any signs of surprise or anticipation as he knew he was being watched closely. Novice mistakes like touching his earpiece or talking down into his radio were mistakes he had ironed out over 20 years of operating under this sort of scrutiny.
Tradecraft wasn’t tradecraft to the likes of him, it was simply daily life in a world of double-cross, double-bluff.
A burst of compressed air screeched out breaking the silence, catching Gerry and Sean off guard. Gerry did his best to not flinch at the sound as Andrew immediately knelt down to peg the balloon cord in to the ice.
‘Fucking hell Andrew, cheers for the warning,’ grasping his heart Gerry tried to joke in shock.
As the balloon filled with helium a bright orange ball grew to the size of three beach balls. Gerry thought that it was the size of his heart ten seconds previously.
Attached to the guideline Gerry held it while Andrew continued to peg it to the floor with a large titanium ice screw.
‘No change, one Russian East Pyramid,’ Sean updated him.
‘That’s it Gerry,’ Andrew informed him standing up.
Mimicking a few final checks with a notepad for the Russian audience, they started to make their way back to the trucks.
Both jumping back in the truck Sean came online with a little more urgency.
‘Stand by, stand by I’ve got another Ruskie almost directly behind the tent, next to North Pyramid. Just caught him with binoculars so be aware they’re on us.’
‘Sean do you have clean shots? How exposed are they?’ Gerry asked wanting a definitive answer.
‘We’re talking chest and above when they pop up for a look.’
‘Well let’s hope they keep popping up like meerkats for a look then, we’ll go forward and stop. Last time guys listen in. Here’s the final brief. We stop, get out, do the mock photo-shoot to look random. Andrew then walks forward with the weapon and knife concealed calling to WHITEOUT like you would do naturally Andrew.’
‘Yes, yes,’ Andrew stuttered. Gerry knew he was getting uptight again now but he couldn’t do anything for him now.
‘If at any time those two Russians make a move then don’t hesitate to drop them Sean. I will be behind the bonnet with the M4 on the seat at this point faking the battery change on the camera.’
‘Got it,’ Sean confirmed.
‘If I see a few and think I am in a good position to start killing them I will initiate with rapid tones on the radio, step out from the truck and start shooting. You start shooting too Sean. If I don’t have time to let you know I’m about to shoot you will see, and hear it hopefully. In fact you better see it or else we’re fucked, if they’re that close I will need some serious support if there’s two or more,’ Gerry added.
‘So gold-standard is Andrew making it into the tent. When that happens you should have eyes on a few Russians too and hopefully I will have clocked the rest of their team.’ Sean paused before finalising, ‘Main thing is anything that looks life-threatening to you I will start dropping them, no hesitation.’
‘Yep we’re all clear on that now,’ Gerry now happy it was clear-cut. ‘Right Andrew let’s get moving,’ Gerry said as he pointed to the tent.
Ivan patiently watched the men go about their business. Exposed to the elements having left Decker protected in the tent, he had anticipated that the Trans-Ant team would turn up a lot earlier. He and the others were now paying the price frantically flapping their arms behind their cover to avoid them seizing up against the cold, especially their hands.
As they saw the truck pulling off, Ivan signalled down the line for everyone to stay completely still, any stupid moves now would risk compromising the ambush position entirely.
He had hidden Mick with a colleague East of the tent and he was occupying the ground directly north behind Decker’s tent, heading up the killer group.
With just the West pyramid still out of view, Sean had two out of the three in his sights intermittently. Poor discipline had seen them pop their heads up and down like a group of meerkats just as Gerry had said.
Gerry was conscious a Russian must be behind the West Pyramid area as this was the missing position in a classic ambush formation at the moment. The centre men forming what was known as the ‘killer group’, whilst the left and right side were called the cut-offs, being the East and West pyramids on this occasion.
The idea was simple. The left or right cut-offs would inform the killer group when the enemy were entering the ambush area, they would not fire but just watch them walk or drive past. Once the enemy was in front of the killer group they would step up and engage and start shooting to destroy said enemy. Any escapees running for their lives would be shot by the cut-offs as they try to escape and evade left or right.
For centuries this tactic had been used and for centuries it had always worked. As long as the enemy didn’t know they’re walking into it of course.
Gerry knew he was driving into it.
Insanely he knew he would then be walking into it.
He also knew he had to walk out of it with WHITEOUT.
Directing Andrew to drive towards the tent he got him to stop 40 metres short of it, checking the right wing mirror he knew he had to keep Sean’s arcs as wide and clear for a possible shot to the West of the tent.
‘Here is golden,’ he transmitted.
Sean had a clear vector for all possibilities, enabling a shot for anyone popping up West of the tent behind the rubble.
Sean started to tighten up his position so the sniper rifle was now in a comfortable position to be fired in rapid succession. Once they came to a halt he would have to be on his game big style.
Observing his front he still had the Russian at East Pyramid but the guy at the North Pyramid had battened down the hatches and was out of sight behind the rubble.
Observing past the tent to the West, Sean still had no Russian in his sights. There were a few large obvious pieces of ice rubble but no evidence of another Russian at the West pyramid. It was the one you didn’t see that always got you, but he knew they couldn’t see him facing the sun 500 metres away. For Gerry’s sake though he had to identity a shooter fro
m that position. ‘Haha there you are you fucker, right on time,’ Sean snarled under his breath.
‘Just saw a reflection off a scope or binoculars Gerry left edge of West Pyramid, can’t identify a person just saw the glint off an optical sight of some sort,’ Sean quickly updating Gerry of the latest find.
Gerry hit the transmission button twice to confirm he had received the information. About to come to a halt 40 metres away he didn’t speak into his mic as he knew the Russians were watching him through telescopic sights or binoculars and he didn’t want to trigger their paranoia kicking everything off, prematurely squandering the planned encounter.
Sean automatically started reporting.
‘Green on East, Red North, Red West,’ as they all knew this referred to the pyramids Sean just transmitted West, North or East now to save time. Green meant he had a clear shot, red meant no shot.
Bending down in the truck Gerry started talking into his radio, ‘Okay Sean we’re about 40 metres away from the tent, when Andrew gets out I will take photos from behind the bonnet, rifle on the seat ready to go.’
‘Okay, still only green on East, standing by,’ Sean replied still anxious to get at least two targets in his sights. Due to the 500-metre stand-off, the North and the East positions could be engaged rapidly, as it would only take Sean a slight shoulder movement to realign his sights without taking his eye away from the scope. This process was literally a few seconds from adjustment to letting a second shot deliver a fatal blow.
With the engine turned off to avoid arousing suspicion Gerry turned to Andrew, ‘You know the drill Andrew. You have the pistol in your inside left jacket pocket and the knife in your right one. When you get out act normally, give him a call, walk to the tent then turn around after 10 metres and shout at me. Simply say, “John take a few snap shots” then point to the tent etcetera. Just play about for a bit. When I say, “the battery is dead” and head back to the truck you proceed forward, just shout to me “He must be asleep lets get this prick up or something” then just get in the tent. You must get in that tent and hand over the weapons. Understand?’ Gerry demanded.
‘Yeah photos, dead battery so I walk towards him saying let’s wake him up, then no stopping till I’m in the tent quickly say about Old Harry.’ Andrew was trying desperately hard not to go into shock and garbled his words like a drunk person. Gerry looked at him in concern. ‘Decker needs you Andrew. You have to get in that tent.’
‘Ok let’s do it,’ Andrew gritted his teeth together and clenched his jaw tight trying to psych himself up.
‘Good, then just stay with him, listen to me shouting, then keep low and get back to this truck, we’re all going to make it out, that’s a promise, trust me Andrew.’
Andrew hesitantly nodded his head. This assurance from a man who had just brought hell and unimaginable pain on three widows, and now fatherless children was a hard one to believe.
He took one last look at Gerry and one last deep breath.
‘Okay this is it, and I will do my best.’
‘Great, okay, let’s up the fucking antie,’ Gerry said before immediately transmitting to Sean: ‘Stand by, stand by that’s us foxtrot out of the truck,’ Gerry informed Sean.
‘Copy, green East,’ Sean replied.
Things had to be kept even shorter and sharper now. Transmissions to the minimum, Gerry knew that Sean would now only report green for Russians in his sights, and not bother with any red Russians that he couldn’t see, it just wasted time.
Both guys got out of the truck and Andrew true to form had shredded his shock-like state and started shouting: ‘Decker! Wake up, city boys to the rescue.’
This was what Decker had referred to them as. Rich city boys gallivanting around the globe, just spanking money like it was going out of fashion, and drinking like it was their last day on the planet.
‘Harry!’ Andrew yelled out again.
There was no reply.
‘He must be asleep Andrew, stop there mate and let me get a few photos,’ Gerry commanded so it could be heard by all. Cringing inwardly slightly at his role-play, Gerry knew it was buying them time they needed.
Andrew turned around following the internal script listening to Gerry’s commands.
‘Move left mate so I can get the tent in the photo,’ Gerry ordered him like a seasoned pro bossing a slutty page-three model about.
‘Keep moving, that’s it,’ Gerry began his covert pan starting out on full zoom, wide angle looking West of Andrew trying to locate the West Pyramid Russian. Snapping away he brought the camera down to his front inspecting the imaginary shots.
‘Stay there mate the sun is killing it a bit from behind, let’s try again.’
Bringing the camera to his eye Gerry desperately searched again for the Russian knowing that this was his last chance before it became ridiculously suspicious.
Holding the camera still looking straight at Andrew, Gerry scanned out to the West through the lens again and his patience reaped dividends. Peeping around the ice formation, unable to control his curiosity, the Russian had dropped his guard, Gerry knew exactly where he was. This didn’t mean too much at the moment, Gerry was two metres from his rifle and all hell could break loose any second if any of the Russian’s lost their nerve.
As Gerry lowered the camera to check his photos he shook the camera, pressed a few buttons before declaring.
‘Fucking batteries, this place does my head in. I will get the spare.’ Then started to walk back.
Andrew knew this was his cue for the long walk, the walk of death maybe. Fighting for the survival of himself and Harry. Shaking, the thick outer clothing disguising it, he continued his walk like a bomb disposal expert approaching a device.
He couldn’t help but look for the Russians before he remembered his job and how vital it was.
‘Decker you knobber you awake old chap?’ Andrew called out before turning to Gerry for reassurance as he continued shouting, ‘I think he’s getting his head down Jim.’
Good work Andrew, Gerry thought, as he mimicked playing with the camera below the dashboard, instead priming himself with the rifle. His right hand was wrapped around the trigger handle, finger on the outside of the trigger guard. Picking the weapon up with one hand and turning to initiate a contact would be easy. It was just a matter of timing; he was still convinced the best time would be when Andrew was in the tent. No way would the Russians shoot at the tent. They would be too busy trying to identify The Clinic members from the innocent Trans-Ant team.
His thoughts were interrupted.
‘Green East,’ Sean confirmed. Not responding Sean was just updating. Gerry held his breath.
Andrew was at the tent door fidgeting with the door zip, looking back timidly as he started to pull it down.
Casually looking up Gerry took a casual glimpse West to locate his target. Nothing.
‘Fucking arsehole where are you?’ he said to himself.
Andrew naturally moved down on his knees as the zip approached the floor. He felt like he was a prisoner of war, kneeling down to receive the bullet to the back of his head.
Briefly closing his eyes he said a final few words not knowing what would occur when he unzipped the tent doors fully.
Chapter 39
Mick couldn’t take any more, he had bled out to the point where he was feeling his consciousness slipping away. It was now or never, the freezing cold had numbed the pain of the gunshot wounds, he knew this was it.
With his hands bound at the front he’d been dragged along like a slave for the past eight hours, and now they’d finally stopped, his feet were bound too. Despite the tape tightly clamping his mouth shut, his teeth still clattered uncontrollably as the cold cut into his bones. Enough was enough, the Russian who was guarding him was doing a good job, although this latest hype of activity had caught his atten
tion, the voices 40 metres away had lured him in, Mick watched him try and get a slight glimpse around the ice boulder. Mick had identified the voice shouting as Gerry, good to know he was no longer without allies out here, but he had to act. Staring at the knife strapped to the Russian’s leg all day Mick kept running through his own plan, that knife was his sole mission right now.
With the Russian’s attention still hooked on whatever was unfolding on the ice, Mick dug his feet in and used the ice wall next to him for leverage. Barely blinking to maintain his watch over the Russian, he managed to shimmy up the ice wall and stand, still restricted by his bound hands.
Knowing he had to make two big hops with his bound feet to cover the three-metre distance to the Russian, he bent his legs, primed for two explosive moves. The zip-ties was keeping his arms locked straight meaning that strangling this guy wasn’t an option, but causing a loud reaction and letting The Clinic know something was wrong, was.
Sucking in some air and knowing it was now or never, he launched himself on the Russian’s back, trying to clamp his arms around his neck.
The Russian gasped, obviously stunned as Mick’s arms moved over his head and around his upper arms making him lose complete grip of his weapon, which hung on the sling attached to his body.
The two men engaged in a full-on bear-hug as Mick requested every last ounce of power he still possessed in his body to come forward and help him fight and create some noise for attention. So far his attempts to scream and shout were nothing but futile murmurs as he was being driven back to the ice wall that he had used to gain purchase to stand.
As his back was slammed into the wall his face met with the Russian’s head in an ear-splitting headbutt that immediately broke his nose. Not even having time to readjust and power out of the situation the Russian released four or five consecutive reverse headbutts, he was obviously no mug. Mick in his dazed state saw the guy quickly spin around so he was facing the ice wall, he felt his legs go numb beneath him as he was administered a classic judo-style kick and he hit the deck back first as the Russian jumped to his feet leaving Mick a moment to try and work out what had gone wrong through his blurred vision.