Waging War To Shake The Cold

by Wild Wolf Publishing

  He sipped his pint and Kats reflected that this was probably the most Badger had ever said to him in one go.

  “The place is wild and so remote you wouldn’t believe it Kats,” he picked up his story again, his eyes looking far off and distant with the memory. “In summer it’s over fifty degrees and in winter it freezes. I spent a lot of my initial tour training in the GAFA – The Great Afghan Fuck All - The Red Desert. It’s a grim place Kats, but wildly beautiful as well, and in some ways it can be more dangerous than the Taliban. It’s definitely a tough country is Afghanistan, but there are a lot of decent people out there who don’t want the Taliban back. It’s them that I feel for most. We’re fighting as hard as we can for them but we’re so undermanned that at times it feels hopeless. The Taliban have a saying: the infidels have the watches but we have the time. It sort of sums the whole bloody thing up really. You can’t believe how stupid things get. Everything we use pretty much has to be brought in over land because there are no ports, it’s completely land-locked, and the logistics of air cargo just wouldn’t supply us at the right level. So the stuff comes overland in convoy through the Khyber Pass. The Taliban used to ambush these convoys all the time, so you know what the Yanks did?”

  Kats shook his head although he suspected it was a rhetorical.

  “They hired a whole load of security companies for millions of dollars. Typical. And what about these so called security companies? Those bewts aren’t fighting the Taliban to protect the convoys; oh no, they’ve come up with the great scheme of bribing the Taliban not to attack them. That means that the Taliban now have a huge income coming indirectly from the Yanks that helps them buy the guns and bullets that they fire back at the shagging Yanks. And our lads as well of course. Pen bach!”

  Even Badger seemed to suddenly realise that it had been a while since he had talked so much to anyone about anything and he trailed off, staring thoughtfully at his pint.

  “When do you go then?”

  “Oh I got a few weeks yet Kats, time enough for us to sort out this mess you’ve landed yourself in I’m sure,” and with that he lifted the newspaper and started to read.

  Kats shook his head and drank his beer. Same old Badger.

  Chapter 22

  He took two cans from the fridge while Badger cleared the table of weapon’s parts and other paraphernalia. They were stuffed after the pub meal but there’s always room for a few more beers.

  “Where do you get all this stuff?” he said, waving his hand at the bits of hardware scattered around the kitchen, and sitting down on the chair across from Badger.

  “Oh you know, I pick it up as I go along. You never know when it could come in handy, you see? How’s Pete doing by the way?”

  “Ach you know, he’s doin’ as well as can be expected I suppose. He won’t go to physio and he’s drinking too much vodka and smokin’ too much shit.”

  Badger snorted, “So what’s new? That’s definitely the Pete I knew.”

  “I think he’s worse now though, Badge. If it wasn’t for his missus I reckon he’d have been dead long ago. She’s the strong one.”

  “I suppose you could say she’s the one wearing the pants now, but that would be a bit near the knuckle.”

  Kats looked at him sharply to see if that was an attempt at black humour, but Badger just carried on regardless.

  “He got a job or anything yet?”

  “Nah,” said Kats after a thoughtful pause and a sip of his beer. “He says he’s in for retraining, call centre work or somethin’, but I can tell he’s no’ really up for it. Tell you the truth mate, I think he’d rather sit at home and feel sorry for himsel’ than crack on and get his life sorted.”

  “Yeah, well it takes all sorts Kats. Mind you, I dunno what I’d be like if I lost me legs, especially if it wasn’t a combat injury. No glory in Pete’s situation, is there?”

  “None at all Badge, none at all mate. You’d think they would take care of him a bit better though wouldn’t you?”

  “Who?”

  “The Army.”

  “What else can they do man? You know yourself that the care they give us in theatre is second to none and there are some great rehab facilities back here as well. It’s not the Army that’s to blame; it’s the sodding government and the NHS. That’s when the lads who get injured all fall through the cracks. I bet Pete never sees anyone from Social Services.”

  “Aye, mibbe yer right Badge, but I canny help but think it was all a sodding waste of time out there. What did we achieve man?”

  “We got rid of a dictator, Kats. We did our duty didn’t we? It maybe wasn’t what we were told we were going in there for in the first place, but what happened is what happened. You can’t go back in time. Saddam was a monster, you seen the torture chambers in the prison. You were with us when that woman told the CO the Mukhabarat had fed her baby to dogs and laughed while they did it. Sometimes you just have to stand up to these guys, no matter what, in order to prevent a greater harm being done later. Those folk out there, they can now decide on their own future, see? That last election they had, there were twice as many voted in that as vote in our own or even in the American elections. That must tell you something Kats.”

  “Yeah? You think that was worth our lads dying for?”

  “No, I don’t mean that Kats. Nothing is worth that, but it’s not the fact that our guys fought and some died and got injured that’s your problem: you’re a soldier man, you know the score. It’s an occupational hazard isn’t it? I reckon it’s the way we’re treated when we come back that’s got your goat. But that’s happened in every war, the myth of the returning hero is just that, a big fat myth. Me? I never had any expectations of anything when I got out, so it was no big deal.”

  “Mibbe you’re right Badge, but you wouldn’t catch me getting back in like you’re doin’. They’ve had all they’re gonnae get outta me.”

  Badger thought for a moment. “I loved every minute of it man. The Army is my family. I can’t relax here; it’s too quiet.”

  “Christ, I wish I could say that my life was quiet!”

  “Yeah, you are in a shitstorm that’s for sure.”

  Over their meal, Kats had already brought him up to speed on his problems and the bargain that Big Davie was looking to strike.

  “The way I see it, given the fact that you don’t have the ready dosh.” Kats nodded assent at that. “You have three options,” said Badger.

  “What are they then?” he burped through his beer swig.

  “One, you can fight him.”

  “And how dae ye propose I do that?”

  “Hit him hard, create mayhem, blood guts’n’gore and veins in yer teeth. Hoo-rah,” Badger grinned.

  “Oh aye?” said Kats. “With what exactly? A penknife and a roll of string?”

  Badger got up from the table, went over to the wall cupboard and opened it up with a flourish.

  “Bloody hell! That’s enough hardware tae kit out a Special Forces Unit!”

  He got up and took a closer look, pulling out an M249 machine gun and expertly checking the mechanism. As well as the SAW, there were three MAC-11 compact machine-pistols, a Glock 20, a neat little Beretta, assorted grenades and anti-personnel mines, and top of the heap; a Javelin anti-tank missile and launcher.

  “You’ve been watchin’ too many re-runs of First Blood Badger. Whit the fuck would I do with these? And why the fuck have you got them in the first place? You expectin’ tae be invaded or somethin’?”

  “You may laugh Kats, but you never know when you might have to defend yourself these days. It’s a mad bad world out there, and if anybody comes knocking on my door uninvited then I want to be ready.”

  Kats looked at him expecting a twinkle of humour in his eyes, but he was deadly serious, and Kats wondered, not for the first time that day, if things had maybe just gotten a little much for Badger out there.

  “Thanks anyway Badger, but I don’t see how launching the Final Solution in Shettleston is go
nnae fix ma problems. But I’ll take ye up on the offer if I can have that wee Berretta?”

  “Sure – whatever you need man.”

  Kats picked up the semi-automatic pistol and checked it over. Everything was in perfect working order, but then with Badger you came to expect nothing else, at least as far as weapon systems were concerned.

  “So,” said Kats. “Option one is definitely out the park, so what’s the next one?”

  “You give them what they want.”

  “The problem with that is I haven’t a Scooby how I can go about it. To be blunt, I think that Pete reckoned you were the man I needed to talk to. He reckoned you would know people, or people who knew people. I dunno where to start man.”

  Badger looked at him impassively and Kats had no real idea what, if anything, was going through his mind. Eventually, Badger allowed a non-committal, “I might do.”

  “So… is that a ‘Yes I’ll gladly help you out Kats my good friend’ or… what?”

  “It’s not that simple Kats. This kind of thing can get very heavy indeed. I need to be sure about several things before I just hand over this kind of information to you.”

  “What sort of things?”

  “Well that you’ll be able to stay safe for a start.”

  That threw Kats completely: he had expected Badger to ask for guarantees of anonymity and perhaps even some cash thrown in, but his primarily concern was for his safety. He was actually touched by that.

  “You’re gonna have to be careful with this guy, Kats. I didn’t manage to get all the intel on him when I was over there but I do know he is one serious dude and you had better be well squared away when you deal with him or he won’t hesitate to top you. Guys have vanished without trace out there, completely, you know? I’m only thinking about giving you this because you’re in so much shit, but it had better not come back to my door that you got yourself whacked because of a deal gone wrong, especially one I helped set up for you. Not now, not when I’m about to go back in there. If that happened I’d have to go after him myself and that would cause all sorts of shit to fly.”

  “You don’t even need to say that Badger.”

  “I’m saying it anyway Kats, and I mean it man. This guy can bring down a world of pain on everyone out there. Even I don’t really know who he is, his real name and his position I mean. I was told to refer to him only as Saleem. All I know is he controls most of the trafficking throughout the North, both in Pakistan and in Afghanistan and, because of that, he is Lord God Almighty. His lot also help fund the Taliban from time to time, but then they also help us and the Americans when it suits them. They couldn’t give a toss about the politics; just as long as the poppies keep growing and the money rolls in, they’re happy. I don’t run big time drugs Kats, you know that, I just pick up the occasional package for some of the lads that use them and even then only for the ones I trust. I got this guy’s details through one of my Yank contacts and the first load he wanted to send me was almost five hundred kilos! That’s way too much for me and I told him that, but he said I should reach out to him again if that changed…what was it he said to me again…oh yes… ‘The nearest to me are the abstinent, for they always find a greater hunger within them, given enough time’.”

  “What does that mean?”

  “I haven’t a clue man, I took it to be something religious. It had a deep effect on me.”

  Kats looked closely again at Badger, wondering if he’d finally dropped off the ledge.

  “Anyway,” he continued. “I’ve got a number for you, and when you call it you have to say you are calling on behalf of Rufus.”

  “Rufus?”

  “Yep, that was the name they gave me to use. From then on in it will be up to you to do whatever deal you can. They’ll take payment in cash of course, but from foreigners like you, they’ll want transfers through offshore banks in advance, they’re not a bunch of backward tribesmen you know. Your biggest problem will be logistics of course. How are you going to get the stuff back?”

  “Wait wait wait Badge. I’m no’ gonnae be doin’ any of that! I was just asked tae get some contacts and pass them along.”

  Badger sat back from the table and looked at Kats quizzically.

  “Whit? C’mon Badger, you know how I feel about drugs. I’m no’ gettin’ involved in this any more than passing over the number for this Saleem guy. That’s it. I’ll still have to find a way of paying back the rest to them but I can worry about that later. This will cover half of what I owe and that’s at least a start, it will be enough to let me get my life back to normal and stop me looking over my shoulder anyway.”

  “Oh I know you’re not interested in drug running all right Kats, but you’re surely not stupid enough to believe that now they have you by the nuts they ain’t gonna squeeze them a little bit more, are you? I mean, how do you think this local gangster from Glasgow is gonna get all that dope back to his patch? You think he’s gonna charter a private plane or something to fly out there, into a warzone, and do the deal himself? No chance buddy, he has you right where he wants you and you can bet your last quid he’ll not be letting you off with just a phone number.”

  Kats immediately saw it; how could he have been so stupid and naïve. “Shit. You’re right.” He took another swig of beer while he digested the ramifications of that insight.

  “Of course, there is option three.”

  “Which is?”

  “Sign back up and come out with me. Leave all these wankers behind.”

  Chapter 23

  “Hello.”

  “Hi,” said the caller.

  “Whit have ye got for me?”

  “Not sure… we got a heads up about someone we think you know. It might be nothing, but you never know, so I thought I’d pass it along.”

  “Whit is it then?”

  “Well… you know a guy called Nick Crossan?” Big Davie remained silent. “…Eh… well… if you know a guy called Nick Crossan it may be wise to make sure there are no loose ends or anything that might lead back to you.”

  “Whit’s he done then?”

  “We’re not entirely sure as yet, but I got a tip off from one of our guys who’s working on the M8 incident. We’ve been watching for anything that might come up to help your son just like you asked us to, and, anyway, this came up. It seems this Nick guy was running some kind of business scam. Some woman our bloke interviewed reckoned the old bird that died in the crash worked for this Crossan fellah and she had a diary with some incriminating evidence of a fraud in it, or something like that. It’s been passed to the SFO and they’re going to take a look at it. I’ll try to find out more obviously, but I thought I’d just give you a quick nod whilst it’s still at the very early stages, just in case.”

  “Thanks. I’ll bear it in mind,” said Big Davie, and hung-up.

  Well well well. So the bold Nicky boy is freelancing then is he?

  He was smart enough to realise that in order to gain the maximum profit from this knowledge he’d need to find out a little more about what Nick was up to first.

  Big Davie knew, from long experience, that when he reacted in anger he usually over-reacted, so he had learned early on in his career to master his rage, channel it in a way that it worked for him and then, when the time was right, unleash it on whoever had incurred his wrath. It wasn’t good to be on the receiving end of that. People usually got hurt.

  First things first though, he was looking forward to bringing Nick up to speed with what his wee blonde bit had been up to behind his back. That would put him more or less where he wanted him. He picked up his mobile, scrolled through the address book, and pressed Call.

  “Nick,” he said. “Whit ye up tae?”

  There was a muttered answer but he wasn’t listening, “Well I need tae see ye. Come tae the office the morra night. I’ll wait for ye.” Then he hung up.

  “Who was that then?” asked Mary looking up from the telly as he walked into the room, dropping his phone on the table.
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