Firefight

by Chris Ryan

  'What more can we do?'

  Jamal's eyes narrowed. 'Many things,'he whispered. He gazed silently into the fire, as though contemplating the embers.

  'Is it so important, Jamal?' the other man asked. 'Is it so important that we find this brother of hers? It is becoming a struggle to keep her alive. It would be much easier if we killed her now.'

  'Important?' Jamal asked. 'Yes, it is important.' He looked at each of the men in turn. 'The Taliban are the true students of the Koran. We will be returned to power in Afghanistan. God will see to it. But what will people think when they discover that this man who betrayed us at the highest level has been allowed to go free? What will that do to our authority?'

  'But he may not even be in this country.'

  At this, Jamal looked angry. 'Do you not think that we have influence that extends further than Afghanistan? Do you not think that we have people willing to do God's work in America, the Great Satan? Do you not think that we have brothers in Washington and London and all over the West? Believe me, if that woman knows where he is, she will tell me, and in the name of Allah I will have him hunted down and killed.' He looked meaningfully at the two of them. 'Or perhaps the name of Allah is not as important to you as it is to me.'

  The two men shifted uneasily. 'Of course it is, Jamal,' one of them replied. 'But is it necessary for so many of us to guard her day and night? She is too weak even to stand up, let alone try to escape.'

  Jamal continued to stroke his scar. 'It is very necessary,' he stated. 'We are not the only people who wish to learn the whereabouts of Faisal Ahmed, of that you may be sure. It is not a matter of if they try and rescue her; it is a matter of when.'

  'But who would be so foolish? We are heavily armed, and with all this snow -'

  'It is not our weapons or the snow that will bring us victory,' Jamal insisted. 'We fight in the name of Allah. To die in his name will be glorious. Who in this room does not crave shihada, martyrdom?'

  Jamal's face shone as a silence fell on the room and the irrefutable truth of his statement sunk in.

  'I suggest you go back to your positions,' he said, after a while. 'Allahu Akbar.'

  The two men bowed slightly. 'Allahu Akbar,' they said, before turning to leave.

  *

  'We need to stop here.'

  Will checked his watch: 18.30 hours. Ismail had not spoken in the two hours since the ambush and even the SAS men had been quiet. They all sensed, Will knew, that they had been lucky. The people in this part of the world were well armed and life was cheap. If the hidden ambusher had been a bit more precise with his shooting, there would have been some British corpses lying back there in the snow with their Afghan attackers.

  Will stared out of the window. It was twilight and the landscape looked no different to him than any they had passed for ages. 'You sure?' he asked Ismail.

  'Positive,' their informant nodded. 'The village is about two kilometres east of here.'

  'OK,'Will called to Drew. 'We need to find somewhere to stow the vehicle.'

  Finding a suitable place was difficult - the region did not offer any natural cover and in the end they were forced simply to leave the truck by the side of the road. As Drew turned the engine off, Will was struck once again by the ominous silence all around.

  'We should scran up before we go,' Kennedy said. They all delved into their rucksacks and pulled out army rations: silver-foil packs containing high-energy food. Will threw one over to Ismail, who tore it open suspiciously and picked without enthusiasm at the beef and dumplings inside.

  'Eat it up,' Will told him. 'It's fucking freezing out there - you need the energy.' He squeezed the cold food from his own ration pack into his mouth. Beans, he realised as it went down, though these things all tasted pretty much the same. Hardly gourmet stuff, but it was welcome and it wasn't exactly as if Will was used to dining in the finest restaurants. Sami had supplied some bottled water in the truck, which they drank from. They wouldn't be taking it with them, though - it was unnecessary weight and with the snow all around they'd be fine.

  When they had finished eating, they started getting their clothes ready. The Afghan garments that Sami had given them were discarded, to be replaced by Goretex jackets over which were pulled their thick, all-in-one snowsuits. Will handed a spare snowsuit from his pack to Ismail, who seemed uncomfortable with it, but pulled it on nevertheless - now that the engine of the truck had stopped running the temperature inside was rapidly dropping thanks to the fact that the back door had been obliterated in the ambush.

  Over their snowsuits they attached military vests covered with pouches in which they stowed grenades and ammunition - all of them ignored Ismail's frightened, wide-eyed stare at the extent of their firepower. Once they were dressed, it was almost fully dark outside. Will pulled a GPS unit from his pack and recorded their current location; the others did the same. Then he stowed it away and addressed his men.

  'Two kilometres,' he said. 'In this weather, we should be able to cover that in an hour.' He glanced at Ismail. 'Maybe an hour and a half. It's 19.25 now. We'll have good night cover when we hit them.'

  'Do we have any idea where the target is being held?' Anderson asked Ismail.

  Ismail shook his head. 'I do not know,' he admitted. 'But it is not a big place and from what I understand they are guarding her heavily.'

  'OK,' Will continued. 'We'll be heading east into the village. When we get there, we'll pair off: me and Anderson, Drew and Kennedy. Ismail, once you've led us there, you stay where we put you and we'll pick you up on our way out. If we get separated, RV back at the truck. And listen to me carefully, everyone: I don't care what happens or how many ragheads you have to nail, she comes out alive.'

  There was a serious kind of silence from the men before Will spoke again.

  'All right,' he told them. 'Let's go.'

  They slung their weapons over their shoulders and debussed in silence.

  The snow was thick - a good couple of feet, which made the going slow; but a bright moon lit the way, casting shadows on the white ground. It meant that for now they did not need their night-vision goggles. The snowsuits and the exercise kept them warm, Ismail was less of a hindrance than Will thought he would be and it was not long before they saw lights in the distance. Minutes later they were in range of the village.

  Ahead of them - thirty metres, Will estimated - they saw a low concrete building. A bright light shone from the roof out into the snow. Will jabbed his finger to the left to indicate to everyone that they should head in that direction to avoid being floodlit, but as he did so, the light failed. The unit were left temporarily blinded as their night vision adjusted to the sudden darkness.

  'The village gets its electricity from a generator,' Ismail whispered. 'But it can only supply electricity for a few hours a day. They have switched it off now.' He pointed in the direction of the building in front of them. 'That is where the generator is kept.'

  'We'll head there,' Will replied. 'It's a good place to leave you.'

  They moved towards the generator building. As they approached, Drew and Kennedy crept around each side, guns at the ready, to check no one was standing guard. As soon as the place was clear they signalled for the others to approach.

  The snow in front of the entrance to the generator was well trodden, but now that the electricity had been turned off for the night it was unlikely anyone would come back here, so it would be safe for Ismail. It was difficult to make out in the heavy snow, but the village ahead of them looked much as Ismail had described it - not too big, maybe 200 buildings crudely created from some kind of breeze block. The roofs were covered in snow and there was, of course, nothing in the way of street lighting.

  'Ahead of you is the main square,' Ismail told the unit as he pointed away from the building. 'Most of the dwelling places are along the west and the south sides of it and I think it unlikely that anyone will be held prisoner in that area. On the far side are some other buildings - a schoolroom and various run-d
own shacks. I think you will find that a more profitable place to start searching.'

  Will nodded. 'Get inside,' he told Ismail, 'and stay out of sight.'

  'You will come and find me?'

  'When we've done what we need to do, yes.'

  Ismail bit his lip. 'And how long will that be, do you think?'

  Will glanced towards the village. 'As long as it takes,' he replied. 'But if we're not back in half an hour, you can assume something's gone wrong.'

  'And what do I do then?'

  'Fucking run for it,' Kennedy said, tersely. 'And hope the X-rays don't feel like chasing.'

  Ismail looked at the SAS man as though he could not work out if he was joking or not. 'What are X-rays?' he asked, his simple question betraying the total innocence that marked him out as being totally unsuitable for this situation.

  'Enemy combatants,' Will said, quietly. 'But don't worry about it. We'll have them covered.' He gave the scared Afghan what he hoped was a reassuring smile, then handed him his Sig 230. 'In case you need it,' he said. 'Good luck, Ismail.'

  Ismail took a deep breath. 'Thank you,' he replied, before slipping quietly inside the generator room, leaving the fourman unit outside.

  'Thank God we've ditched him,' Kennedy muttered, and it was true. Will might feel sorry for the guy, but it was a relief to be on their own. They had needed Ismail to get them this far, but from now on a man who gibbered at the sight of a firearm was only going to be a hindrance. Silently, they removed their NV goggles from their packs and placed them over their heads. Will blinked as his eyes adjusted to the sudden, green-tinted clarity. Ahead of them was a cluster of single-storey dwellings; from most of these places he could see smoke curling from the chimneys - clearly the inhabitants of the village had fires in their humble houses to keep away the chill. It suggested to Will that not many people would be about.

  A sudden howl filled the air - a dog, probably, scavenging around the village. The sound seemed to echo over the snow-covered plains. Will hoped for the dog's sake that it didn't come across any of them. They wouldn't be able to risk it alerting anyone else to their presence, so their only option would be to put a bullet in its head. The dog howled again. It was eerie, like this whole fucking place. The sooner they could get out of here, the better.

  He nodded at Drew and Kennedy, who took the lead, skirting around the back of the crude, box-like dwellings, while Will and Anderson aimed their Diemacos forward, ready to take out anyone who caught sight of them. But so far they had seen no one. There was nobody outside. There was nothing to suggest their arrival had been clocked.

  Drew and Kennedy stopped, pressed their backs against the wall of one of the buildings, then gave Will and Anderson the cover they needed to advance. They continued in this way, silently, for a couple of minutes until the dwelling places started to thin out. Up to their left, fifty metres away, they could see the larger buildings Ismail had mentioned. There was movement here, men standing outside carrying guns. Overt security. It looked hopeful.

  'We should attack from both sides,' Anderson breathed.

  Will addressed Drew and Kennedy. His voice was tense. 'You two, stay here. We'll skirt round to the other side. Once we're there, take them out.'

  'Roger that,' Kennedy replied.

  Will and Anderson waited until they were sure the guards were not looking their way, then ran to the back of the large building, confident in the knowledge that if anyone saw them, Drew or Kennedy would nail them in seconds - and at fifty metres they would be sure of hitting their targets. Once there, they peered around the other side. There was a large concrete building with a corrugated iron roof on the north side of the village. Standing outside it, rifles in hand and surveying the surrounding countryside, were two men. In front of them was a metal bin, flames flickering from the top. The snow around it had melted. They did not seem to want to stray far from the warmth of that fire and Will didn't blame them.

  It was instantly clear to both SAS men that they would have to take these guys out if they wanted to alert Drew and Kennedy to their presence here and a cursory nod between them was all it took to establish that this was what they were going to do.

  They raised their rifles, got the targets in their sights and fired. Their suppressed weapons let out two almost silent shots as they doubled-tapped each of their targets. Two head-shots: they fell immediately.

  Will didn't even see them hit the ground. Once they were neutralised, his attention had to be elsewhere. He edged round the corner of the building and looked back towards the area where they had left Drew and Kennedy. His NV illuminated all the dwellings they had sneaked behind, he could see the snow-covered square in the middle of the village and the two guards in front of the main building were in plain view.

  But he couldn't see the two SAS men.

  He gave it thirty seconds. Still no sign.

  'Shit,' he whispered. 'Where the fuck are they?'

  As he spoke, Will turned round to look at Anderson. He was facing Will, the butt of his weapon still dug firmly into his shoulder, ready to take on anything that came at him. What he wasn't ready for, however, was what came from behind.

  The instant Will saw the three Taliban fighters approaching from behind the building, he raised his gun to fire.

  Anderson inclined his head slightly - it must have looked to him as though Will was aiming the weapon in his direction. The surprise was not allowed to register for long, however, because within a split second the sound of gunshot filled the air and Anderson hit the ground, a bullet lodged firmly in the back of his skull.

  'Anderson!' Will roared. The situation had gone noisy now and there was no need for silence. His stomach was turning over as he realised that his partner had just been nailed. Sheer rage descended on him and on instinct he started pumping bullets into the Taliban who had just killed Anderson. Two of them fell, then a third. For a moment all thoughts of the mission left Will's mind - he just wanted to kill these people.

  But suddenly they were swarming around him - four of them, maybe five, all armed, all pointing their guns directly at him. His weapon was knocked from his hands and landed with a clatter next to Anderson's still-warm body.

  Instantly they were upon him, smashing the NV goggles from his face, beating him with their guns and then, when he was on the ground, kicking him brutally in the stomach and the head until he was helpless with the pain. Finally, he felt himself being dragged to his feet and pulled out towards the central square.

  Drew and Kennedy were there too, captured, their hands bound behind their backs and their NV goggles ripped from their faces. They looked stunned. And well they might. It had all happened so quickly and none of this made any kind of sense. They had approached in darkness; they had kept out of sight; the mission had barely even begun and nobody in the village could have known that they were coming.

  Nobody, Will realised with a sickening lurch in his stomach, except one person.

  As he was pushed roughly towards Drew and Kennedy, his eyes scoured the groups of bearded Taliban extremists who had congregated to witness the capture of the SAS unit. He knew who he was looking for and he saw him soon enough.

  Ismail was standing on the corner of the square, flanked by two Taliban men, both considerably taller than him. One of them had a deep scar on his lower lip. Ismail hadn't been roughed up; he hadn't been bound. As Will's eyes met his, he gazed at him expressionlessly.

  Then, unable to keep up that stare for long, the young Afghan's eyes fell to the ground. He turned and wandered off, alone, through the door of a small hut in the shadows beyond.

  NINE

  The brutality that their Taliban captors inflicted on them happened in a blur. Hugely outnumbering the SAS men, they seemed to take pleasure in kicking and beating them to a pulp. One of them struck Will so hard on the forehead with the butt of his gun that blood streamed down over his eyes, stinging them and blinding him. Only when the three of them were bruised and battered almost beyond recognition did they hear
a man bark a single word that they didn't recognise. Immediately the beating stopped.