Scavenger Hunt

by Barry Buckingham

  “You’ve got about as much chance of getting a blow-job from her, as I’ve got of flying this plane, mate.”

  As she walked by with more passengers, she looked back and smiled, whether she heard them talking about her, they didn’t know, but that smile said it all.

  Dave looked at Harry, “So! Ever flown one of these?” He elbowed Dave in the side, laughing.

  "Pack it in, you two!” Bob frowned.

  The flight was uneventful, even though the stewardess attended them very nicely. The in-flight movie was crap, Snakes on a Plane. Very apt as they could see the two men, who’d obviously been assigned to follow them, sitting four rows behind - both had buzz cuts and wore black suits. Again, not expensive, but smart.

  They both looked as if they’d lost a tenner and found a quid. Whether they’d been told to stay invisible, they didn’t know, but they stuck out like a pair of nipples at a wet T-shirt contest.

  Dave reckoned when they got to Abu Dhabi, they’d contact base and say they’d been compromised and get shipped back to the U.K. “Don’t blame them really,” he thought. Where they were going was a shithole.

  After they landed, Bob received a message on his mobile from Lucy. She’d texted, ‘Got back okay. 2 men helped me with a couple of lads. They got mouthy about me sitting in 1st. They won’t be writing home or picking their noses for a while.’

  Bob smiled at the last bit. He decided to give her a quick ring, to let her know they'd arrived. She picked up almost immediately. “Bobby, are you okay?”

  “Yep. Just landed. I read your text, thought I’d ring. Everything okay with you?”

  “Yes, everything's fine. I had a nice chat with two men on the train who helped me out. I asked them back for coffee, but they said that they had to get back.”

  “Did you get their names so I can get in touch and thank them?”

  “Yes, Darren and John, no addresses or phone numbers though. When they’d left, I went round and tore all the alarms down, they’re on a bonfire waiting to be burnt.”

  “Ha! That’ll please MI6.” As he said this, Harry and Dave looked at him, he shook his head and mouthed, “All’s good.”

  Harry pointed at his watch.

  “Okay, Luce, I’ve got to go, I’ll see you soon.”

  “Okay, Bobby. You take care, and say hi to Harry for me.”

  He hung up and looked at Harry.

  “What?” Harry smiled. “Does she love me?”

  “Nothing. Lucy says, Hi.” He blew Harry a couple of kisses and laughed. He explaining what had happened as they collected their bags.

  They'd travelled light, just bringing a change of clothes and a few cameras. They'd decided to buy all the extra equipment when they got there. They looked around, spotted the car hire stand and went off to collect their transport.

  "Knowing the British government it’ll probably be some heap of junk," Bob quipped.

  The two men following kept their distance.

  As they got in the car, which surprisingly was a new Range Rover, Dave turned to Bob, “Shall I lose them?”

  "Do what you do best," he smiled.

  Ten minutes later, they were driving along the road having lost their tails around a market taking place just outside the airport.

  The car was one of the new style Range Rover Sports and the first thing that went on was the air-con.

  “There’ll be time for all the other gadgets later,” Dave thought.

  It was in the low nineties outside but was well into the hundreds inside, that soon dropped once the engine started and the A/C kicked in.

  Harry guided them through the streets, going down some tight roads in the old quarter. After about twenty minutes, he asked Dave to pull over outside a convenience store. He jumped out and went into one of the shops. Harry had arranged to get some gear from one of his contacts of old.

  While they sat waiting, Dave picked up the driver’s manual to read.

  “It says here, 'The all-new Range Rover Sport has been pushed to new limits in a series of the most punishing drives to be found on Earth'. We’ll see about that!” he said, flooring the gas pedal a couple of times.

  The engine roared like an angry caged lion. “Pack it in, Dave. You’ll draw attention to us," Bob cringed.

  Harry stuck his head out the shop door and looked up and down the street, “Problem? I heard you revving, everything okay?”

  “Just Dave reverting back to his boy-racer days.”

  “You want to be careful, Dave, You’ll draw attention to us.”

  Bob and Dave looked at each other and laughed.

  "What?” Harry said, confused.

  Ten minutes later, Harry walked out of the shop.

  "Got everything you wanted?” Bob asked.

  “Yep. All here.”

  They looked around, looking for the items. Dave was just about to ask what stuff when the shop owner came out and dumped it all on the kerb. Dave jumped out and threw it all in the back. Harry then put in a call to another old contact, Anshu. He then filled them in on their soon-to-be new friend.

  As he talked, Dave headed back to the main part of the city.

  Harry explained, “Anshu was born in Baghdad. He lost his family when he was only ten years old to a suicide bomber. The family were down at the local market when a young man blew himself up. Well, they think it was a guy, all they found was the head. The rest of his body vaporised in the explosion. He’d claimed to be 'Cleansing Iraq of the western presence'. Ever since then, he’s been living on the street, fending for himself.”

  “Tough life!” Bob frowned.

  He went on to say, “I met Anshu when the team I was on was out on patrol. Anshu was with a group of young boys begging for food. They came up to our patrol and he pulled me aside, saying he knew where there were guns and he could sell them to me. He led our patrol through a maze of streets to a stash of AK forty sevens and RPG”s. I slipped him ten thousand Dinars, about five British pounds, and he went away happy. Anshu went on to become one of our main points of contact between the local militia and the army.”

  Harry then said something, that made Dave and Bob sit back and stare at him.

  “I say hello, whenever I’m in the area.” He looked back at them, “It’s been a while though. If the number still works, and he’s still alive, then he’ll help us. But it’s been about five years since I last spoke with him. If I can’t get hold of him, I know where he used to hang out. Usually with the elders smoking their bongs and drinking coffee. That’s where we used to make contact with him, for information.”

  He rang the number and was surprised when it was answered within two rings.

  “Anshu, it's Harry. I need somewhere to stay, are we still friends?”

  “OK. Harry, my old friend. Yes, we’re still friends. It’s been a long time. At least five years?”

  “Maybe six.”

  “OK. When are you getting here my friend?”

  “We’ll be there in six days.”

  “OK. Business or just sightseeing?”

  “Business, but not like the old days.”

  “OK. How many of you are there?”

  “Two.” He looked at Bob and Dave and mouthed, "Better to keep the element of surprise on our side!"

  “OK. I’ll meet you at the usual place. Yes?”

  “The usual place! Where’s that?”

  “OK. Don’t you remember, my old friend, the olive trees?”

  “Just checking. Thank you, Anshu. It’ll be good to see you again.”

  “OK. It’s good to hear from you, my old friend, see you soon.”

  After he hung up, Bob said, “Can we trust him?”

  “He helped me and the lads out a few times when I was over here blowing things up, he’s good.”

  “A long time has passed since then, mate. These guys get bought out. They’d sell their own wife if they had to.”

  “Dave’s right, Harry, are you sure you trust him?”

  “When we get there I’ll go
and meet with him, see what he’s like.”

  “Sounds good to me,” Bob nodded.

  They made one more stop that day, at a small market shop and bought some supplies: water bottles, food and local clothes. They didn’t know where they were going to sleep, so they got blankets too.

  They drove up the coast road, using the E11 then the 95 up to Bahrain, stopped the night and then drove on to Kuwait. So far without incident.

  They knew once they left Kuwait it would start to get tricky. A car full of westerners, especially blokes, wasn’t exactly the best combination for travelling into Baghdad.

  ****

  The first night they came across a little B&B - more like a stable with no doors - but at least it had a roof. The blankets they bought came in handy.

  Dave said, "I'd forgotten how bloody cold it gets in the desert.”

  "You quickly get use to your home comfort, mate," Bob said, putting a thick woolly hat on.

  The next morning, over a local breakfast of lamb and coffee, Bob laid out the plan.

  “We’re going to try and take the main road all the way into Baghdad. Well use route eight and then route seven, via Kut, so about six hundred and fifty kilometres. It’s going to be dangerous, but it’s the most direct route. The tricky bit is going to be not getting spotted going into Baghdad. You still got that money they gave us for expenses, Dave?”

  "Yep," he nodded.

  “Why don’t we stay in Saudi?" Harry suggested, pointing at the map. "Travel along the eighty-five until we get to Arar, then cut up using the twenty-two into Baghdad. It’ll be about twelve hundred kilometres altogether if we see a route in on the way, we’ll take it and go cross-country. But it'll be safer, and the roads will be better."

  Bob thought, then looked at Dave. Dave shrugged, “We could always write a road trip report on the Rover, send it into that idiot Jeremy frigging Clarkson.”

  Bob smiled, “Okay, let’s do it.”

  They set off as soon as they'd finished breakfast. They reckoned on covering about three hundred kilometres a day.

  To begin with, they decided to use the smaller side roads, where they would be less conspicuous. They were aware at some point that they were going to get close to the fence and therefore probably within sight of any border patrols.

  35

  Eight kilometres away, flying at seven thousand six hundred and twenty metres, a Predator UAV was cruising. It had levelled out two hours earlier and was now holding a pre-planned flight pattern. Unless you knew it was there, you wouldn’t hear it or see it.

  This UAV was sending images of a Range Rover that had three occupants on board, back to an E-3 Sentry that was patrolling two thousand kilometres away over the Mediterranean Sea. The same images were then being sent, via a military satellite, to an MI6 address in London, and a secret underground bunker in the United States.

  In the American bunker, deep below the surface, were four men sitting around a table, watching the live video link sent from the UAV.

  The general sitting at the top of the table picked up the phone next to him, waited a few seconds for it to be answered, then said, “Stand-by team A to seventy-two-hour readiness and get them into theatre.”

  The reply came back repeating the last command. “Stand-by team A to seventy-two-hour readiness and get them into theatre. Aye-aye, sir.”

  Two minutes later, four British SAS and four American SOF got the call. They picked up their kit, carried out last minute checks and gave the familiar war shout before walking out to their designated aircraft, a Hercules MC-130 Commando 11.

  The aircraft was winding up its four Rolls-Royce engines and readying its electronics to take the eight-man team on to their destination.

  On the way out to the aircraft, one of the American SOF said, “That noise still gives me a hard-on.”

  "You’re a pervert, Louie," the only female team member laughed.

  The other team members slapped him on the shoulder and smiled.

  They walked up the ramp into the back, stowed their kit and strapped themselves into the side seats along the fuselage wall. The middle section of the aircraft was set up for taking kit on to another destination, once they’d been dropped off.

  The aircraft taxied out.

  The eight service personnel in the rear heard and felt the aircraft vibrate as its engines accelerated it on its short sprint down the runway. The soldiers in the back tensed, holding themselves upright, as the aircraft quickly gained speed.

  Within a short space of time, they were airborne.

  On the way, the Hercules made a short detour, landing and stopping halfway along the runway of a busy European civilian airport, giving the civilian air traffic controllers a heart attack. They watch aghast as a military police car, lights flashing, sirens blasting, shot across the grass to the back of the waiting Hercules. They then watched as two men jumped out and ran up the back ramp. The ramp then closed and the aircraft accelerated, aided by short take off rockets attached to the fuselage, and lifted into the sky.

  The two men, nuclear physicists, becoming part of the team for the mission.

  36

  Harry and Bob were scoping the border looking for a way in through the fence. Harry pointed out where he’d gained entry twice in the past.

  "We’d nearly been caught on the last mission, we only just got out. And according to Intel, that area has now been mined.”

  “We’ll give that place a miss then!” Dave said, having seen what an IED can do to an armoured vehicle.

  “There’s plenty more places we can get in, the fence was always falling down, something to do with the sand shifting!” Harry added.

  The onboard computer was reading an outside temperature of a hundred and four degrees Fahrenheit, you could hear the air-con working hard as it fought to keep the inside of the car cool. The heat haze on the horizon ahead was making it difficult to see along the road, so spotting potential trouble was a problem.

  When they got out for a pee, the mixture of the heat and the light breeze lifted a fine sand and dust mix into the air. It got into their clothing and coated the inside of their mouths, grinding on their teeth whenever they chewed. Added to that was the sun, which was trying to cook you.

  They were about two hundred kilometres along on the first day when it started to get dark. They found a gully big enough for the Range Rover to disappear and set up for the night.

  Making camp was quick and easy. It consisted of three comfy fold-up chairs and a blanket each. In the end, though, they decided to sleep in the Range Rover as it was going to get cold. Luckily, it was big enough for the three of them. Dave made a mental note of this for his report to Clarkson.

  It seemed as if the sun and the temperature were having a race to see which could drop the quickest, and it felt like the temperature was winning! Before the sun had disappeared out of sight, the sweat on Dave's back had started to cool, he dug out his jumper, ready for the chill to take the place of the searing heat.

  The rocks around were still radiating a little warmth, but that wouldn’t last long, once the sun dropped below the horizon it would get bloody cold, very quick!

  Dave could hear the night crawlers waking up, scurrying around looking for food. They were on the rocks nearby and in the sand around the car. It gave him the creeps thinking about them. “Just like old times, ay, mate?” he said, to Bob.

  “I’d rather be down the Dog & Duck. A pint and a packet of crisps would go down nicely at the moment!” Bob said, smiling.

  “I could be getting laid right now," Harry chipped in.

  Bob frowned as Harry remembered it was his sister he was talking about. He was about to apologise when, “Contact," Bob whispered.

  Harry and Dave looked up, they could see he was looking out at the horizon. They both grabbed their weapons and took up positions around the car. Harry at the front, Dave about five metres away, behind a large rock.

  Bob looked over at them, seeing they were both in position.

&
nbsp; “Large tree four hundred metres, left, goats," he directed.

  “Yep," Dave replied. “Got them,"

  Harry sneered. "Bloody smelly animals!"

  Bob then said, “Harry."

  Harry looked at him.

  "Mate. They’ve got a better chance of getting laid than you, and that’s probably by the shepherd.”

  “Piss off!” Harry said, laughing.

  Dave smiled and shook his head, got the back of the car open and started to get the kit out.

  They covered the Range Rover with some canvas that Harry bought in Kuwait. It wasn’t as invisible as cam-net, but if it’s seen, it’ll look more like a tent than someone hiding something. Not that it should matter too much, as they’d be packed up by sunrise, ready to move on.

  They took turns keeping watch. When it came to Dave's turn, he was reminded of the change in temperature out there. His breath was condensing into a white mist every time he breathed out. He didn’t know about the other two, but his nose was bloody freezing.

  The next morning, just before the sun showed its head, the old shepherd with the goats, and an old donkey, came close to where they were. They pulled their rifles out, just in case.

  He walked right past their position but showed no sign of even noticing them. They noticed him though, if they hadn’t seen him they would have smelt him!

  “He looks happy," Dave whispered.

  "Probably got his rocks off with one of those goats last night," Bob said, smiling at Harry.

  Dave sniggered. Harry gave Bob the finger.

  They set off at daybreak, after another amazing breakfast of coffee and baked beans! The sun had made its way over the horizon and was already starting to turn the place into an oven.

  Dave gave his mouth a final rinse from the toothpaste, ready for the grit to take over. He checked the jerry cans, “still two full ones, so plenty,” he thought. As soon as he felt the heat coming on, he got the air-con going in the motor and they set off.

  They continued along the border road, with Harry and Bob scoping again for a gap in the fence.

  Two hours into the second day, Harry spotted a break up the road. They pulled up five hundred metres from it, on the verge. Bob and Harry going forward on foot to check it out.