Death in the Desert

by Jim Eldridge

  The men of Delta Unit did as they were told, and the soldiers went from one to another, handcuffing them with plastic restraints.

  A group of British soldiers in desert outfits stood at a safe distance, automatic rifles pointed at them. The expressions on the soldiers’ faces ranged from grim stares to sneers of disgust. The captain and the sergeant stood closest to their prisoners, surveying them.

  ‘So,’ said the captain with obvious distaste. ‘We’ve been wondering if we’d run into you. The gang of renegade soldiers who are planning to make their fortune by dealing drugs with the Taliban.’

  The men of Delta Unit said nothing.

  ‘Frankly, if it was left to me, I’d shoot the lot of you right now,’ continued the captain. ‘But my colonel wants to ask you some questions about your Taliban business partners. You’ll be coming with us so he can have a little chat with you.’

  Although the captain’s tone was cool and calm, there was no mistaking the menace in that phrase ‘little chat’. The captain turned to the sergeant. ‘Put them in the crawler, Sergeant.’

  ‘Yes, sir,’ the sergeant replied.

  ‘And detail someone to bring in their vehicles.’

  The captain walked away. The Geordie sergeant came closer to the men and glared at them.

  ‘Nothing to say?’ he demanded angrily. ‘Well, we’ll soon change that. I don’t know which I hate more: a traitor or a drug dealer, but you lot seem to be both. I’m going to enjoy getting information out of you.’

  The team were bundled into one of the desert crawlers and the doors were slammed shut. It was a very tight squeeze, the air hot and sticky. They heard other vehicles being started up and voices shouting commands and responses. Then the engine of their desert crawler burst into life. The vehicle began to shudder, and started to roll.

  ‘Here we go,’ murmured Mitch.

  ‘I think we’re going to be asked some interesting questions, Colonel,’ said Two Moons.

  ‘And we say nothing,’ ordered Nelson.

  The men nodded in agreement. All of them were thinking about Benny and wondering if he was still alive. The sight of him being rushed away to the helicopter, his face covered in blood, was an image that hung heavy over them. Gaz tried to shake it away by making light of their situation.

  ‘This is fun,’ he said. ‘Sitting handcuffed in a police vehicle. It’s just like being back home.’

  ‘You and I obviously had very different backgrounds,’ said Tug with a smile, joining in the attempt to lighten the atmosphere. ‘I was never handcuffed during my youth.’ He sighed ruefully. ‘Alas, since I joined this outfit … ‘

  ‘I know, it’s happened many times, Your Lordship,’ chimed in Two Moons.

  ‘Too many,’ confirmed Tug. ‘I should have listened to my mother. She always warned me I’d get into bad company one day.’

  From the driving area above them, the Geordie sergeant shouted out, ‘Shut up down there! No more talking or I’ll come down and give you all a kicking!’

  Gaz grinned. ‘Hear that,’ he chuckled. ‘Geordie hospitality! You can’t beat it, pal!’

  18

  After hours of bone-shaking driving the desert crawler finally shuddered to a halt. The doors opened and they were ordered out. By now it was evening and darkness had descended across the desert, but here banks of floodlights blazed down on them.

  ‘Get in line!’ ordered a voice.

  The men complied and took in their surroundings. From what they could see of the military buildings and equipment around them, they were at a Forward Operation Base. Since the Coalition forces had moved into Afghanistan, more and more of these FOBs had been established to push the front line into enemy territory. They were forts in the desert: a defensive front line of blocks and rocks around the base to protect against a direct attack, and what was virtually a small town of portable buildings to house the troops and support.

  A lieutenant appeared from one of the nearby buildings and looked at the line of handcuffed men. There was no mistaking the look of scorn and disgust on his face as he approached them. ‘Follow me!’ he snapped. To the armed soldiers guarding them he ordered, ‘Keep your weapons aimed at them. If they try and make a break for it, shoot them in the legs.’

  With that he turned on his heel and headed back to the building.

  ‘Come on, you!’ barked the Geordie sergeant, and he prodded Gaz with the barrel of his rifle.

  The handcuffed men moved forward, following the lieutenant.

  Inside the building they found themselves in a command room, complete with tables, chairs, noticeboards and screens. A man got up from one of the chairs as they entered the room. Like all the soldiers he was dressed in desert fatigues, but there was no mistaking his air of authority. He waited until Nelson and the rest of the prisoners were assembled in a line, and the armed soldiers had pulled back to a watchful distance.

  ‘I am Colonel Taggart,’ he told them. ‘We received intelligence that a bunch of renegade soldiers were heading to Kajaki to negotiate a drug deal with one of the Taliban warlords, Azma Al Haq. So I asked my men to keep an eye out for any suspicious characters in the area. A gang of seven American and British soldiers. Does that description sound familiar to you, gentlemen?’

  Nelson shrugged. ‘We could be under cover on a special mission,’ he said.

  Colonel Taggart looked at Nelson coldly, and then laughed. ‘Nice try,’ he said. ‘But, as the commander of the forces in this area, I am always informed of any special or covert missions that might be happening so that we don’t interfere. Or so that we can give our assistance, if needed. I have been given no intelligence about any missions, special or otherwise, involving American and British soldiers. However, I have been given intelligence about these renegade soldiers.’ He smiled a cold smile. ‘Guess which version of events I prefer to believe?’

  Nelson gave a look of frustration, but the Colonel continued. ‘Now we’ve got the fairy stories out of the way, let’s get down to the reality. You’ve been caught. Frankly, your position here is … shall we say … precarious. As I’m sure you will already have gathered from my men, drug dealers and traitors aren’t very popular with them. Or with me. We’re fighting a war here. The last thing we need is scum like you making the situation worse. So, if you want to make things easier for yourself you can answer me one simple question: where is Al Haq’s hideout?’

  The handcuffed men remained silent. Taggart waited.

  ‘Perhaps you’ll tell me why you were engaged in a battle with those Taliban?’ he demanded finally. ‘After all, my men rescued you.’

  ‘Let’s just say it was a difference of opinion,’ said Nelson.

  ‘In other words, they don’t like the idea of you muscling in on their business,’ grunted Taggart. ‘I’ll ask you again, where is Al Haq’s hideout?’

  The men in the line looked straight ahead and said nothing in reply.

  ‘Let me have a few minutes with them and I’ll get the answer, Colonel,’ urged the Geordie sergeant. There was no mistaking the contempt in his voice.

  ‘I’m sure you would, Sergeant,’ said Taggart, ‘but let’s see if we can do this the easy way first. I’d hate anything serious to happen to them and their deaths to be on your conscience.’

  The sergeant shook his head as he glared at Nelson and the men. ‘With respect, sir, it wouldn’t be troubling to my conscience at all. They’re traitors. They don’t deserve to live.’

  Colonel Taggart looked coolly at Nelson, and then at each of the other men in turn.

  ‘You see how strongly my sergeant feels about what you are doing here?’ he asked. ‘I believe the rest of the men at this base feel exactly the same. They are risking their lives here. We have lost many men already. Good men. The idea that criminals like you are trying to make money out of the situation makes me sick to my stomach. You are worse than criminals. You are a disgrace to the uniforms you wore. You are traitors to every man here. So, as I say, if you want to get out of thi
s camp in one piece I would strongly recommend you tell me where Al Haq’s mountain hideout is.’

  Taggart’s expression grew darker and he added angrily, ‘In case you’re not aware of the current situation, Azma Al Haq’s forces have recently stepped up their attacks on our troops. Previously, they have kept to their own region, but lately they seem to have come south to join forces with the Taliban in this locality. In the last week I’ve lost six men to his forces, with another seventeen seriously wounded.’

  At this, Mitch shot a brief glance of concern at Two Moons.

  ‘So I ask you again, for the lives of the men here, where is the hideout?’ barked Taggart.

  Delta Unit remained mute. Taggart looked at them as if he wanted to spit in disgust.

  ‘Very well,’ he said. ‘Sergeant, check them for concealed weapons, then lock them up.’

  ‘Yes, sir!’ responded the sergeant.

  He put down his rifle and picked up a small handheld metal detector, and ran it over the men. In this way he found Mitch’s M23 and both his knives, as well as the weapons concealed by the others.

  As the weapons were dumped in a pile by the sergeant, Taggart shook his head.

  ‘An undercover armoury,’ he commented.

  ‘We’re soldiers,’ responded Nelson.

  Taggart shook his head. ‘Not in my book,’ he said. ‘You’re filth.’

  As the sergeant ran the metal detector down Tug’s left side it beeped, just as it had with everyone else. The sergeant patted the left leg of Tug’s uniform, and then frowned, surprised to find no sign of a weapon.

  ‘There’s nothing there. Just titanium and some nuts and bolts holding my leg together,’ explained Tug. ‘I was wounded a couple of months ago.’

  ‘Oh really!’ sneered the sergeant. He pulled a knife from his belt and slit the leg of Tug’s trousers at the thigh, then ripped it open. Everyone could now see where the repairs to Tug’s leg had been carried out: the scars and the marks where the stitches had been. Even the sergeant and Taggart could see they were relatively fresh.

  The sergeant shot a questioning look at Taggart, who nodded uncomfortably.

  ‘Very well,’ he said. ‘Right, Sergeant. Lock them up now.’

  As the men were about to be taken out, Nelson stopped and turned to Taggart.

  ‘One last thing, Colonel. Is there any news of our comrade?’ he asked.

  ‘He’s at Camp Bastion,’ said Taggart curtly.

  ‘I know where he is,’ retorted Nelson. ‘I want to know what his condition is.’

  ‘You’re in no position to demand anything,’ Taggart shot back. Then his tone softened slightly and he added, ‘Latest reports say he’s alive and is being operated on. I believe a bullet penetrated his skull. I don’t have any more details than that.’ He glared at Nelson and continued, ‘With the skill of the surgeons and a bit of luck he’ll be able to stand trial with the rest of you.’

  Mitch and Two Moons exchanged looks of relief. Benny was still alive. That was the main thing.

  As the sergeant prodded Nelson with his rifle to take the men away, Taggart stopped them.

  ‘This is your last chance to do something decent. Tell us where Al Haq’s hideout is.’

  ‘And if we don’t?’

  ‘Then you’ll be put on the next plane back to England, where you’ll be arrested.’

  19

  They were taken to a large building at the centre of the base. In the main room were four huge cages. The soldiers unlocked the doors of two of them, took the plastic restraints off the team and pushed them inside: Nelson, Tug, and Omari into one cage; Mitch, Two Moons, and Gaz into the other. There was nowhere to sit in the cages, except what looked like a portable steel toilet in one corner of each, welded firmly to the bars.

  The soldiers who had ushered them into the cages left, but Mitch could see through the half-open door that two others had been left on duty to guard them. The men of Delta Unit squatted down inside the cages, near the bars so they could talk.

  ‘We need to get out of here before they can put us on a plane,’ said Nelson. ‘If they kick us out, our mission’s failed.’

  ‘Maybe we should tell Colonel Taggart the truth?’ suggested Omari.

  Nelson shook his head. ‘No. According to Taggart, Al Haq’s men have stepped up their action recently and they’ve killed six of Taggart’s men. That’s not going to make him sympathetic to our mission. He wants to kill Al Haq, not talk to him.’

  ‘That’s one thing that puzzles me, big time,’ said Mitch, frowning. He turned to Omari. ‘If Al Haq is as keen to talk peace as you say he is, why is he going on the offensive in this way?’

  Omari shrugged, a puzzled expression on his face. ‘I don’t know,’ he admitted. ‘Perhaps he’s bluffing, trying to convince the Taliban he’s serious in his support for their cause.’

  ‘Or maybe he never really planned to go ahead with the peace talks,’ suggested Tug. ‘In which case we would be really stupid to carry on with this mission.’

  There was an awkward silence, during which the men looked first at Omari, and then at Nelson. ‘I, for one, am gonna be really mad if Benny dies because we’ve been suckered by this uncle of yours,’ grunted Two Moons. There was no mistaking the anger in his voice as he looked at Omari.

  ‘Hold it,’ ordered Nelson. ‘We don’t know for sure Al Haq has changed his mind.’

  ‘But stepping up the attacks certainly suggests it,’ said Tug pointedly.

  ‘No!’ said Omari firmly. ‘I am certain my uncle did not lie to me when we met. He wants peace, I am absolutely convinced of it. He told me that he was sick of his children and grandchildren dying in a war. He wants an Afghanistan where they can live without fear.’

  ‘Well, he’s sure got a funny way of showing it,’ muttered Mitch.

  Once again, the men of Delta Unit looked at Nelson for direction. The colonel regarded Omari thoughtfully for a while, then he asked: ‘You’re prepared to stake your life on your uncle’s word?’

  Omari nodded. ‘Yes, I am,’ he said.

  ‘OK,’ said Nelson. ‘Then so are we. We go on with the mission.’ He looked at the men of his unit. ‘That right, fellas?’

  The men hesitated, then nodded.

  ‘If you say it’s OK, Colonel, then I’m with you,’ said Two Moons.

  ‘Me too,’ agreed Mitch.

  Tug and Gaz nodded.

  ‘Good,’ said Nelson. ‘The other reason I’m not going to tell Colonel Taggart the truth is because he’d then have to do one of two things,’ continued Nelson, ‘Give us an escort to Al Haq’s hideout …’

  ‘Out of the question!’ said Omari firmly. ‘That would ruin everything.’

  ‘… or let us go. And if he did that he’d have to tell his commanders the truth. And sooner or later one of them would mention why we’d been let go, and what our mission was. And that word would be picked up by some of the locals.’

  Omari nodded. ‘I see what you mean,’ he said.

  ‘So, like I said at the outset, if this mission is to go ahead, we have to get out of here on our own terms, right now. Any ideas?’

  Tug gestured at the cages they were being held in. ‘These bars are solid steel. They’re sunk into cement all the way round at the base. We don’t have any equipment we can use to cut our way out, and even if we did the guys outside would hear it and be in here in a flash.’

  ‘Yes, that’s true,’ agreed Nelson. ‘So we have to be a bit shrewd.’ He looked through the bars at Mitch, Two Moons and Gaz. ‘Any of you fellas feel like dying?’ he said, smiling.

  The three soldiers exchanged thoughtful looks, then Two Moons laughed and said: ‘I think it better be me.’

  Omari gaped at Nelson. ‘What do you mean?’ he demanded.

  ‘Wait and see, pal,’ Gaz told Omari. ‘Your job is to shout.’

  Omari looked at Gaz bewildered. ‘I don’t understand,’ he said.

  ‘You will.’ Gaz grinned. To Two Moons, he said, ‘You and me,
then?’

  ‘Both of you!’ said Two Moons indignantly. ‘I’ve got too much pride to be killed by just one man.’

  ‘Right,’ agreed Mitch.

  With that, he and Gaz rushed at Two Moons. Both men leapt on the big Indian and began to punch him. Two Moons fought back, blocking their punches and delivering blows of his own, and all three men collapsed in a brawling heap on the ground.

  Nelson looked at Omari. ‘OK,’ he said. ‘This is where you start shouting.’

  Omari gaped at him, and at the three men fighting in the next cage, and suddenly he realised what was happening.

  ‘Stop it!’ he yelled. ‘Stop it! Guards! Guards!’

  The commotion brought the two soldiers on duty running in. They levelled their rifles at the three men fighting in the cage.

  ‘Stop it now!’ ordered one.

  Reluctantly, Gaz and Mitch struggled to their feet and staggered back. Two Moons lay still on the ground, his mouth and eyes open, staring at nothing.

  ‘You! Get up!’ commanded the soldier angrily.

  Two Moons didn’t move.

  Mitch stepped towards the fallen Sioux. ‘Come on, Two Moons!’ he said. ‘Game over! Get up!’

  Two Moons stayed where he had fallen, dead still.

  A worried expression crossed Mitch’s face. He bent down, and then knelt beside Two Moons.

  ‘Get up!’ shouted the soldier.

  Mitch ignored him. He felt Two Moons’ neck, then his wrist. He stood up, and now he looked shaken.

  ‘He’s dead,’ he said.

  ‘He can’t be!’ exploded Gaz. ‘I hardly touched him!’

  ‘It must have been his heart,’ said Nelson. ‘He was due to have a medical just before we came out. I knew he was hiding something from us!’

  One of the soldiers gestured impatiently at the men in the cage standing around Two Moons’ still body. ‘Get your hands up, all of you!’ he ordered.

  Mitch and Gaz obediently raised their hands.

  ‘Get back against the side of the cage!’ ordered the soldier.