Rolling Thunder (2007)

by Jack - Seals 04 Terral

  Chapter 14

  TALIBAN VILLAGE

  GHARAWDARA HIGHLANDS

  29 APRIL

  0330 HOURS

  ARSALAAN Sikes damned the lack of modern equipment as he huddled on the hillside looking down at the village nestled across the valley. He could barely make out the shadowy forms of the stone houses where a population of some 150 people lived. It was estimated that no more than thirty to forty of the Taliban males were of warrior age in the community; perhaps even fewer. At the moment, the desperate villagers were in hiding from the Afghan Army and had only established the primitive hamlet a couple of months earlier.

  From his position, Sikes would have to go some twenty-five meters down a steep slope, cross an open space a hundred meters across, then head up another incline to reach the dwellings. Captain Naser Khadid, the Iranian SF officer, was beside him, leaning his elbows on a waist-high boulder while using a pair of French night-vision binoculars to study the target area. After a couple of minutes, he handed the field glasses to Sikes. You will see better with these, Sikes Bey.

  Thanks, Cap'n Khadid, the Englishman said. He took the devices and sighted through them, the green and black images of the village buildings now easy to discern through the lenses. That ain't too bad a place to defend if you're in a small-arms fight. But anybody with proper mortars or RPGs could knock the bluddy walls down about their ears.

  Too bad Orakzai Mesher wouldn't lend you any of his, Khadid said.

  He wants to give me a bit of a test, hey? So he says to himself, 'Let's see what this here Inglizi bloke can do. I'll send him out to a fortified village without no heavy weapons and let him have a go at it.'

  Except he probably referred to you as an Angrez, Khadid pointed out. That is the Pashtun word for Englishman.

  Bloody shit! Sikes complained, taking the binoculars from his eyes. Another fucking language I got to start fretting over.

  I noticed the ten Arabs you sent across the valley all have hand grenades attached to their field-belt suspenders, the Iranian captain remarked. I hope none of them fall off and detonate. That would betray our presence here in a most emphatic manner.

  Not to worry, Sikes said. Them grenades is French F-Ones. The pins don't come out with a straight jerk. They got to be twisted, then given a good tug. A bit of a safety feature.

  Are they fragmentation-type? the Iranian inquired.

  Right, Sikes said. The F-Ones is plastic with the perforated frags on the inside of the case. And you can count on a good bit of concussion from the bleeders, yeah? He checked his watch. I'll give the lads until the sun just starts peeping over that mountain to the east. The minute the first bit o' light gives us a good view, I'll start me plan going, hey?

  He had deployed the remaining ten Arabs with five on each side of where he was now situated. There were also fifty Pashtuns from Orakzai's band spread out along the same area that looked across at the village. The other Arabs, under the command of the ever-faithful Warrant Officer Shafaqat Hashiri, were now making their way across the valley a hundred meters to the east as they headed to their assigned fighting position.

  I am most curious as to how you plan to run this battle, Sikes Bey, Khadid said. Especially since we are not a group who has fought together before.

  I don't tip me hand to nobody till everything's over and done with, Sikes said. By the by, Cap'n, the noise discipline o' them bleeding Pashtos is fucking horrible. Wot the hell can I do to fix that and a few other things that need correcting?

  One must remember they are not soldiers, Khadid said. The Pashtuns are warriors. Giving advice and explaining things very politely will help you get your way much better than trying to administer brutal discipline.

  Sikes chuckled. So putting me boot up a few bums won't get me shit, hey?

  Listen to me, Sikes Bey, Khadid said seriously. Never never never strike one of them whatever you do. That would be something that their culture demands be avenged immediately with the greatest prejudice possible.

  It sounds like they'd kill over getting a punch-up.

  Indeed, Khadid said.

  A clack of rocks behind them attracted their attention, and they turned to see Khusahal Shinwari walking up. The field commander of the Pashtun fighters joined them, squatting down. All my Peshto brothers are in position.

  Thanks, Shinwari Effendi, Sikes said politely. You made a bit o' noise coming up here, yeah? We should be careful about that. But I don't think nobody in the village heard you.

  I shall inform my men to take great care in that regard, Shinwari said. It is an excellent suggestion on your part.

  Well, now, Sikes said, I appreciate that.

  Shinwari asked, Are your Arabs in place now?

  Half are, Sikes replied. The ones going to other side of the valley will need another half hour at the most. When they get there, they'll be up on that ridge just above the houses.

  Shinwari gazed through the gloom. Wabakhsha, but how can they fire effectively from up there?

  .

  0551 HOURS

  THE sun showed red over to the east even though the fiery orb was still below the mountains. The daylight was slowly encroaching on the night's darkness, meaning that Sikes and Khadid no longer needed the night-vision binoculars. The stone hovels of the Taliban village were becoming easier to see.

  Sikes reached down and grabbed his AK-47, looking at Shinwari. Do your blokes understand when and how to fire?

  Yes, Sikes Bey, Shinwari replied. They are not to begin shooting until you go first. And when they do, they will aim carefully and fire on full automatic with short bursts.

  Bluddy good, Sikes said. He aimed his AK-47 toward the center of the village, took a deep breath, then squeezed off two quick five-round squirts of the 7.62-millimeter ammo. Immediately, a loud blast of fusillades flashed out from the firing line of Arabs and Pashtuns. The bullets hit the rock houses, making sparks as they bounced and ricocheted off.

  Then a series of detonations began as the ten Arabs situated in their position on the cliff just above the village began dropping the French hand grenades down among the dwellings. All in all, a total of sixty F-1s fell into the village, bouncing and rolling among the houses before detonating. The resultant explosions threw out shards of metal fragments and waves of battering concussion that rocked the poorly constructed rock shelters. These were held together with a minimum of mortar, and the walls began collapsing under the onslaught of the invisible force of the blasts. Roofs caved in on the occupants, exposing the interiors of their domiciles. The final grenades were tossed down to do their damage, and the hand-thrown barrage ended.

  Now the attackers had living targets, and they continued to pour in volleys of the short bursts of automatic assault-rifle fire, paying no attention to whether they were shooting at women and children or not. Figures could be seen trying to rise from their blankets, only to collapse back under the hail of steel-jacketed slugs. Some managed to get to their feet, but were unable to go far before being pummeled by the incoming swarms of bullets.

  Sikes Bey bellowed his next order in three languages. Hujuml! Hamla kawel! Attack!

  Captain Naser Khadid, fired up by the excitement of the battle, added the Farsi word. Hamle!

  The attackers swept down the steep slope, still firing, but without accuracy until they reached the floor of the valley. At that point, most of them instinctively slowed down to aim and fire off three or four well-aimed bursts. With that precaution taken, they ran onto the farther slope, struggling upward, keeping alert for any resistance. But they received no return fire and they reached the village without a single casualty.

  The homes had all collapsed. Those that had not been taken down by the concussion from the detonations were destroyed when others crashed against them in a falling-domino effect. Sikes was at the forefront, carefully and slowly making his way across the jumbled rocks that had once provided shelters for the people.

  Komak!

  The cry for help in the Dari language sounde
d from a pile of rubble in the center of the village. Khusahal Shinwari listened carefully as the plea was repeated several more times. He moved toward the source; then a Taliban in a dusty, bloody robe suddenly stood up and fired his own AK-47. The rounds slammed into Shinwari, who was kicked back by the strike of the bullets an instant before collapsing to the ground. Immediately, a dozen Pashtun attackers blasted the Taliban killer, who took enough hits to fill a thirty-round banana magazine. The man twisted into two pieces from the ripping impacts, both hunks hitting the ground at the same time.

  One of the Pashtuns went to Shinwari and knelt down.

  Mer.

  He says he's dead, Khadid said to Sikes.

  Tell them others to be damn careful while they're poking around then, Sikes said.

  As Khadid translated the orders, the ten Arabs who had been up on the ridge emerged from some boulders at the side of the village. Warrant Officer Hashiri walked up to Sikes with the detail and saluted. Reporting back, Captain Sikes Bey.

  You lads did a kebir job with them grenades, the Englishman said.

  We are pleased to be finding that out, Hashiri said. It was impossible to see below if we were accurate.

  Sikes gestured to the destroyed dwellings. Well, have a look then.

  Hashiri studied the fallen structures, then turned his eyes on the bloody, battered remains of Shinwari. What happened?

  One of these Taliban yelled for help; then when Shinwari walked up, the bluddy snake shot him, Sikes explained. Tell the men to begin searching for survivors in the rubble, but be careful. There could be a couple o' more sneaky rotters waiting to start shooting.

  Now Arabs and Pashtuns alike carefully probed the village. Sikes, with Khadid at his side, moved slowly through the wreckage looking at the pathetic dead. God! There was lots o' women and children, wasn't there?

  Yes, Khadid said, looking at the corpses of a dead woman and baby lying on blankets under a mass of rocks. I think it is safe now to assume there are no survivors.

  So we didn't get no pris'ners, hey? Well, no matter, Orakzai Mesher said not to worry, they was just a bunch of miserable Taliban hiding out. From the looks of 'em, they wasn't eating too good.

  The Taliban are as much our enemies as the Afghans, Khadid pointed out. We hate them even more.

  Usama Bin Laden and the al-Qaeda are going to be bluddy upset about this, Sikes said. But I suppose most of 'em are up in the caves around here somewhere, hey?

  Eventually, we want to draw them out and deal them a death blow, the Iranian said. He chuckled. If for no other reason than to embarrass the Americans.

  A lot o' Yank faces will turn red over that, Sikes said. He looked over at the men still combing through the remnants of the now-destroyed community. We're done here. I'll gather up the lads and we'll head back...well, to our new home, right? We're living up here in these fucking mountains now, ain't we? He whistled loudly to Warrant Officer Hashiri and waved. Hashiri yelled out orders. Although the Pashtuns didn't understand the words, they got the meaning when the Arabs began forming up.

  Within ten minutes, the column, with four men bearing Shinwari's corpse on a hastily rigged litter, moved from the area toward the higher country.

  .

  PASHTUN STRONGHOLD

  ORAKZAI'S CAVE

  1400 HOURS

  ARSALAAN Sikes Bey and Captain Naser Khadid sat on thick carpets with their host, Yama Orakzai Mesher. They sipped hot thick coffee and slowly consumed the inevitable samosas with paow stewed goat's feet. Sikes was not enjoying the latter dish, but followed Khadid's example and forced himself to at least nibble on what the Pashtuns considered a delicacy.

  The death of my old comrade grieves me, Orakzai said. He and I fought in many battles together against the Soviets.

  He perished answering a plea for help, Khadid said. Allah, in his benevolence and mercy, will reward his attempt to perform a kind act.

  Waquian, Orakzai agreed, knowing that Shinwari was actually after a prisoner rather than acting out of concern for the Taliban fighter. But I have not only lost his presence in my life, I am lacking a trusted deputy. He picked up his bowl of stew and put it to his lips, tipping his head back to let the hot thick broth flow into his mouth. He swallowed and set the bowl down. My mujahideen told me the battle was a very quick one, yet it left the village entirely destroyed.

  I could've made a better job of it with a mortar and heavy machine gun, Sikes said.

  I think it clever the way you had grenades dropped from the cliff above to knock over the houses, Orakzai said.

  When we scouted the place, I noticed they looked like they was about to fall over anyway, Sikes said. That's when I figured a little push might just make 'em tumble down. O'course, we couldn't go up there and knock 'em over, could we?

  We tolerated the village because the people were going hungry, Orakzai explained. We knew they would all eventually perish from sickness and starvation within a couple of months at the most. I wished them slow, miserable deaths to avenge their mistreatment of my people during the time they ruled Afghanistan. When you arrived, I decided the miserable wretches would make an excellent practice target. He smiled. I suppose, in a way, I was being merciful to them.

  Khadid saw a chance to put in a good word for the Iranian-sponsored Englishman. Sikes Bey's employment of the AK-47s was most effective, Orakzai Mesher. There was not a square millimeter of space in the village that was not shot up. Those Taliban who did not die when their houses collapsed upon them were killed by bullets.

  This is the second time you've demonstrated your skills to great advantage, Sikes Bey, Orakzai said. I praise your efforts.

  It's always nice to get a compliment for a job, Sikes said. But I do have a request, Orakzai Mesher. I would appreciate it if the next time I go out to do battle, that I got the proper support with me, yeah? I'm speaking of heavy weapons backup.

  That will be done, Orakzai said. And I want to speak to you of another thing. With my dear comrade Khusahal now departed to his eternal reward in Allah's Paradise, I no longer have a field commander. I am sorry to say none of my Pashtuns are capable of leading more than just a few men. I would like you to take over those responsibilities.

  Sikes could barely believe the words that were just spoken. He stared at Orakzai for a moment before he could respond. Uh...well...you mean be in command of your army?

  That is exactly what I mean.

  Captain Khadid smiled discreetly, trying to conceal his enthusiasm. This would make his job as military advisor that much easier. His superiors would also be pleased with the appointment.

  Sikes looked over at him, then back to Orakzai. Yeah. I'd like that. How many men will I have under me command?

  It varies, Sikes Bey, Orakzai said. You may be sure of between eight and nine hundred.

  Blimey! Sikes said. That's a bluddy battalion, that is! He thought a moment, then asked, That ain't enough to be a pasha, is it?

  Khadid spoke quickly, saying, But you would be leading an entire army no matter its size. Surely you deserve to be called pasha.

  Sikes displayed a wide grin of pleasure. I wouldn't be Sikes Bey no more then, would I? I'd be Sikes Pasha.

  That is an Arab title, Orakzai said. But if you want to be addressed as such, I shall order it done.

  When do I take command?

  It will be announced in the morning, Orakzai said. I will see that a translator is provided for you. I advise you strongly to begin acquiring a good working knowledge of the Pashtun language. My mujahideen are already favorably impressed with you from this morning's battle. Being able to communicate with them in their own language will solidify your stature as their battle leader.

  I know something I could say in Pashtun to you already, Orakzai Mesher, Sikes said. Manana thank you!

  Come back this evening, Orakzai said. We will dine together and discuss the details of this arrangement. That will include a muta with one of our young women. That will further consolidate your bond to our group.
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  The idea of a temporary marriage and having a woman also appealed to Sikes. It had been months since he had last enjoyed the sexual favors of a woman. Am I gonna get a chance to look around at the birds here?

  I will pick one for you, Orakzai said. Do not worry. She will be from a proper family.

  Well, now, Orakzai Mesher, all due respect, hey? But I'd like a looker.

  All our women are beautiful, Sikes Pasha, the Pashtun leader said. He glanced at Khadid. The invitation to dine also includes you, my friend. The support of our Iranian brothers is most important do me.

  Yes, Orakzai Mesher, Khadid said. With your permission, Sikes Pasha and I will withdraw until this evening.