False Friends (The 9th Spider Shepherd Thriller)

by Stephen Leather

  Tommy was the leader of the unit’s three-man demolition team and they hurried over to the gate and started unpacking C4 charges from their backpacks.

  ‘You think it’s a good idea to take everyone in through the front?’ asked Shepherd.

  ‘We can’t risk crashing the second helo so rope drops are out,’ said Croft. They were all wearing night-vision goggles so it was impossible to read their faces, but it was clear from Croft’s tone that he wasn’t happy about having his orders questioned.

  ‘Let’s move, Dan,’ said Henderson, turning towards his team.

  Shepherd stood where he was, staring at Croft. ‘I get that, but do you think it’s smart to send everyone in through the gate?’ he said. ‘They’ll know we’re coming and if they start shooting it’ll be a massacre.’

  ‘We can take fire,’ said Croft.

  ‘I hear you, but the smart thing to do would be to move in on two fronts.’

  ‘I only see the one gate, and we’re not using the helo. Now get out of my face and let me get to work.’

  ‘Come on, Dan …’ said Henderson, putting his hand on Shepherd’s shoulder. He tried to move Shepherd away from Croft but Shepherd wouldn’t budge.

  ‘You could send a team over the wall at the side,’ said Shepherd. ‘If you go through the main gate you only get to the first courtyard by the guest house. You still have to get into the courtyard where the main building is. That’s going to slow you down. But if you send men over the west wall they’ll drop straight into the main courtyard and they could move around the west side of the house. If you come under fire they could deal with it.’

  Croft took out a small laminated map of the compound and realised that Shepherd was right. But he still didn’t appreciate having his orders questioned. ‘Last time I looked that wall’s eighteen feet high,’ said Croft.

  ‘There’s a stack of oil drums over there by the cowshed and we can pull down some of the planks of wood. That and the ropes from the helo should get us over.’

  ‘That would work, Adam,’ said Henderson.

  The two Seals stared at each other, looking for all the world like two giant insects about to attack each other, then Croft nodded. ‘Let’s do it,’ he said. ‘Leave four men watching the perimeter but take the rest over the west wall. And stay in radio contact; we don’t want any surprises in there.’

  ‘Roger that,’ said Henderson. He nodded at Shepherd and the two men ran back to the Black Hawk.

  Croft paced up and down outside the gate. The ground was rough red dirt that had turned to mud in recent rain and it sucked at his rubber-soled boots. Tommy and his team had finished attaching four charges the size of cigarette packs at the four corners of the gate.

  ‘Ready when you are,’ said Tommy, running wires from the charges to a safe distance. Croft crouched down on one knee and turned his head away. ‘Fire in the hole!’ shouted Tommy, and he blew the charges. The gate fell inwards and slammed into the muddy ground.

  Croft led the way, his boots thudding over the gate. His men followed. There was an alleyway some twenty feet long with another locked metal gate at the end.

  Croft pointed at Tommy, and then at the gate. Tommy nodded and went forward with his demolition team. As they fixed charges to the second gate, Croft looked at his watch. It had been seven minutes since the Black Hawk had crashed. According to their game plan they should have been inside the house already. As it was they were still outside the residential part of the compound and whoever was inside would know that they were under attack.

  There were two explosions and the second gate was down. ‘We’re almost at the outer courtyard,’ Croft said into his radio mic.

  ‘Roger that,’ said Henderson. ‘We’re just about to go over the wall.’

  Croft led his team over the second gate into a courtyard. There was a small building to the left. It was a guest house, used by a fifty-year-old man and his family. At the far end of the courtyard was another metal gate. Croft’s heart was pounding and sweat was dripping down his forehead. He wiped it away with the back of his left hand. He was finding it hard to visualise the layout of the compound. All the training had started with him doing a fast rope drop directly into the residential compound and then storming the building. Everything they’d done since the helicopter had crashed was totally new and unplanned. He reached into the top pocket of his tunic and pulled out the laminated map again. He stared at it, trying to get his bearings. According to the map, the third gate led to the inner courtyard and the house.

  A three-man team headed by Seal Golf peeled off to secure the guest house as Croft waved at Tommy and pointed at the third gate. ‘Last one and then we’re in, Tommy.’

  Tommy and his team rushed forward and started attaching C4 charges.

  Henderson and Shepherd studied the platform that the Seals had built against the perimeter wall using oil barrels and planks taken from the animal compound. There were three barrels at the bottom with planks on top, then two more barrels on top of that. Standing on the top barrels they’d have to jump only a few feet before scrambling over the top.

  ‘They’re just about to access the inner compound so we need to go now,’ said Henderson.

  ‘I’ll go first,’ said Shepherd.

  ‘You’re here to observe,’ said Henderson.

  Shepherd tied a rope round his waist. ‘It was my idea so it’s the least I can do,’ he said. He handed the other end of the rope to Henderson. ‘Just be gentle with me,’ he said. ‘Eighteen feet isn’t that big a drop but I don’t want to go breaking an ankle at this stage.’

  Another Seal was also getting ready to go over the wall but Shepherd slung his MP5 on his back and beat him to it, clambering up on to the wooden planks and then carefully climbing on to one of the barrels. He reached up to the top of the wall, grabbed it with his gloved hands and dragged himself up with a grunt.

  Henderson played the rope out between his fingers, keeping a careful eye on the Englishman as he straddled the wall and dropped down into the courtyard. Shepherd’s knees scraped against the concrete wall as Henderson lowered him down. As soon as Shepherd’s feet touched the ground he turned and reached for his MP5, checking that the immediate area was clear.

  A small cat with a broken tail ran away but other than that the courtyard was deserted.

  The Seal dropped down next to Shepherd, unhooked the rope from his waist and pulled it twice to let the man on the other side of the wall know that he was down. Shepherd did the same and the two ropes snaked back over the top.

  The rest of the Seals came over the wall in pairs, with Henderson bringing up the rear.

  ‘We’re in the compound,’ Henderson said into his mic.

  There was a burst of static then he heard Croft. ‘About to blow the third gate and then we’re in.’

  Henderson motioned for his team to move forward.

  ‘Fire in the hole!’ shouted Tommy and the four charges attached to the third gate blew. The gate buckled but remained in place so Tommy and one of his team rushed forward and finished the job with two hard kicks.

  The gate went down and the Seals stormed through into the inner courtyard.

  A man appeared at a doorway, holding an AK-47. He was short, portly and bearded, wearing a long nightshirt. It was the courier, Croft realised, recognising him from the dozens of surveillance photographs they’d studied in North Carolina. Three red dots from the laser sights of the M4 carbines danced on the man’s chest then three shots rang out and the courier fell back, the AK-47 tumbling to the ground. There were screams from a woman and children inside the house as four Seals stormed in, stamping over the body in the hallway.

  Croft looked round, checked that the rest of the Seals were ready, and pointed at the main house. ‘Here we go,’ he said. ‘Home stretch.’

  As they approached the main house a heavyset man with a thick moustache appeared on the patio. Next to him was a middle-aged woman in a nightdress. The man was holding an AK-47 in one hand, and he was holdi
ng up his other hand as if telling the soldiers to stop where they were. The three-man unit to Croft’s left fired as one and three bullets slammed into the man’s chest. He slumped to the ground and almost immediately the woman’s face imploded as she was hit. Even with the suppressors the noise of the shots echoed off the courtyard walls as dull thuds.

  Three small children ran out of the house screaming. The soldiers let them go, keeping their weapons trained on the entrance to the house.

  Croft waved his men forward. ‘In we go,’ he said.

  Henderson flinched at the sound of shots. ‘They’re taking fire,’ he said, ducking down into a crouch.

  ‘All suppressed M4s,’ said Shepherd. ‘And they weren’t from the house.’

  They came round the corner just in time to see Croft and his men burst through the front door.

  Shepherd looked up at the upper levels of the building. All the windows were in darkness. If the occupants had any intention of fighting back the best time would have been when the Seals moved into the compound. Then they’d have been firing from cover and with the advantage of the high ground. Now that the Seals were moving inside the advantage switched to the Americans. They were highly trained in close-quarter combat and the night-vision goggles gave them an extra edge.

  Shepherd moved forward but Henderson held him back. ‘They go in first,’ said Henderson. ‘You’re an observer, remember?’

  Seal Alpha moved through the hallway with his team, using their weapons to cover all the angles. They had spent hours practising clearing the mock-up house in Afghanistan, and the exercises had always included dealing with booby traps – tripwires, alarms and explosives. But the fact that there were children in the house suggested that it hadn’t been booby-trapped, which would make their life easier.

  There was a metal cage around the staircase that led to the upper floors and the three-man demolition team hurried over to it and began attaching charges while the rest of the Seals cleared the ground floor. There were four rooms including a kitchen and a bathroom, a sitting room with an old-fashioned television and karaoke machine, a bedroom with single beds. The Seals were thorough, opening all the cupboards and overturning the mattresses.

  When they were satisfied that the ground floor was clear they moved to the far end of the hallway while the demolition team finished attaching the explosive charges.

  Shepherd walked up to the house with Henderson in tow. Behind them Henderson’s team fanned out, covering the upper floors of the house with their M4s. Shepherd stared down at the dead man and woman on the patio. Blood was still pooling around the woman’s chest as she lay face down on the tiles. ‘We’re shooting women now, are we?’ he asked.

  Henderson gestured at the AK-47 by the dead man’s feet. ‘What do you call that?’

  ‘You’ve been around as long as I have, Guy,’ said Shepherd. ‘The only shots we’ve heard have been fired by suppressed M4s. No AK-47s have been fired.’

  ‘Maybe that’s because we got our defence in first.’

  ‘Yeah, well, that doesn’t explain the woman. When did Seals start killing women?’

  ‘We can’t take any chances – under those baggy clothes she’s wearing she could be rigged up with a suicide vest.’

  ‘It’s a nightdress,’ said Shepherd scornfully. ‘It’s well after midnight. They were in bed and they came out to see what was going on.’

  ‘With an AK-47?’

  ‘Guy, mate, you’re from Texas. I’m betting you’d have a gun in your hand if you heard noises in your garden late at night. We’ve just crashed a bloody helicopter in theirs.’

  They heard two dull thuds from inside the house, small explosive charges. Shepherd looked across at Guy, wondering if he’d been right about the suicide vest.

  Henderson read his mind and shook his head. ‘That’s C4. Our guys are blowing the staircase cage.’

  Shepherd nodded. ‘Let’s go,’ he said, and he headed inside. Henderson hurried after him.

  Croft pulled open the mangled mesh cage and led the charge up the stairs. As he got to the halfway point he saw a man peering round the corner at the top and he pulled the trigger of his M4, sending a bullet smashing into the wall inches away from the man’s ear.

  The man jerked back. Croft had recognised him from the photographs they’d studied back in the States. It was Bin Laden’s twenty-three-year-old son. He’d been seen in the compound most mornings lifting weights and doing push-ups.

  Croft ran up the stairs just in time to see the man reach the end of the hallway. He fired again as the man turned but his shot went wide. Croft cursed, then he flinched as a gun went off behind him, two shots in quick succession. Seal Bravo. Both shots hit the man in the chest, just above the heart, and he fell backwards, hit a wall and then slid down it, his eyes wide and staring as blood spurted from the two wounds. He was one of four adult males that the Americans knew were living in the compound. Now three of them were dead.

  The Seals piled up the stairs and began clearing the rooms. There were four, including a foul-smelling bathroom. They found two women hiding under a double bed in one of the bedrooms and roughly patted them down for explosives before one of the Seals hurried them out and down the stairs. They screamed and cursed and spat at him every step of the way.

  The stairway leading up to the top floor was caged too and the demolition team went to work, attaching charges to the metal frame.

  Shepherd ducked as he heard the shots, then smiled ruefully as he realised that it was his instincts that had taken over. The gunfire was upstairs. Then he heard rapid shouts and Arabic cursing and saw two middle-aged women being pushed down the stairs by one of the Seals. The women were both in their fifties, with weathered skin and bad teeth and hooked noses peppered with blackheads. Their faces were contorted with hatred and one of them spat at Shepherd as she went by, then screamed something at him in Arabic.

  ‘Nice,’ said Henderson. ‘Something about your mother.’

  ‘Hearts and minds,’ said Shepherd sarcastically as he wiped away the phlegm with the back of his hand.

  ‘We tend to find shock and awe works better,’ said Henderson. ‘We don’t have time for please and thank you and tea and crumpets. And don’t think for one moment that those bitches wouldn’t blow you away in a heartbeat if they were the ones with the guns.’

  They went up the stairs to where Croft was watching the demolition team attach their charges.

  ‘You guys get down the hallway,’ said Croft. ‘We’re just about to blow the cage.’

  Henderson put a hand on Shepherd’s shoulder. ‘Come on, we need to get away from the charges.’ He pushed Shepherd down the hallway. They almost stumbled over the dead man lying there. Fresh blood glistened greenly through Shepherd’s goggles, a slightly darker green than the man’s T-shirt. Two black dots showed where the bullets had struck home. Shepherd looked around the floor but there was no sign of a weapon.

  He ducked involuntarily as the explosive charges went off.

  The charges had wreaked havoc on the cage around the stairway, mangling the metal frame and twisting the hinges, but it was still in place and blocking the stairs. Tommy and his number two on the demolition team grabbed it and pulled hard. It came away from the wall and they dragged it into the hallway.

  Croft led the charge up the final staircase. As his feet pounded on the concrete steps a door opened on the top floor. Croft caught a glimpse of a bearded man and then the door slammed shut.

  He reached the top floor, hurried along to the bedroom door and paused for a second for the rest of his team to join him. He stepped to the side and Seal Delta kicked the door hard, just below the handle. The jamb splintered and the door crashed open.

  Croft went in first, just as they’d rehearsed, bent forward to keep his centre of gravity low, his carbine sweeping the room. One step into the room then a quick shuffle to the right so that the next man had a clear view.

  There were three targets in the room. There was a man standing by the
bed. A craggy face with a long straggly beard. Two women, both wearing long cotton nightgowns.

  The women began screaming in Arabic. The younger one took a step towards the Seals, her hands curved into claws, her face contorted with hatred. ‘Neek Hallak!’ she screamed. Croft knew enough Arabic to know that she was telling them to go fuck themselves.

  The older woman stepped to the side, putting herself between the soldiers and the old man. Her husband. They were both his wives, and both would die to protect him.

  Seal Charlie shouted at the younger woman. ‘Shut the fuck up, bitch!’

  The woman continued to scream at the Americans in Arabic, shaking her fist, her eyes blazing. Then suddenly she charged at Seal Bravo, wailing like a banshee. Seal Bravo lowered his aim and shot the woman in the left calf. Her leg collapsed and she staggered against the wall, her screams of anger turning into howls of pain.

  The older wife grabbed hold of the injured woman and she too began to curse. Seal Charlie let his weapon fall on its sling and he dashed forward, shoving the two women against the wall.

  Croft brought his gun to bear on the man, who was still standing next to the bed, a look of quiet serenity on his face. There was no fear, no anger, just blankness as if he couldn’t comprehend what was going on around him. Croft raised his weapon, his finger tightening on the trigger.

  Off to his left, the injured woman had slumped to the floor, blood streaming from the wound in her leg, and the second woman was trying to stem the flow with her nightdress. Croft was barely aware of the women; he was totally focused on the man in front of him. Two more Seals moved into the room, their M4s sweeping left and right.

  The man was still raising his arms, and now he stood almost as if he was crucified, his palms open, fingers extended. His eyes stared blankly at the soldier and a smile slowly spread across his face. It was the smile of a man at peace with himself. Croft pulled the trigger and a small dark-green rose blossomed in the centre of the man’s chest and his whole body shuddered, and even before he began to fall Croft fired again, this time at the man’s face. The bullet blew away most of the man’s skull above the eyeline, splattering blood, brain and bone over the wall behind him. The target fell backwards on to the bed, his arms still outstretched.