‘You’ve got that right,’ Jock said. ‘I’ve never seen such a cocky bugger.’
Shepherd grinned. ‘I had my moments, didn’t I? Anyway, we’re stuck with Todd for now, and however hard we are on him about it, I’m sure he’ll be a hell of a sight harder on himself, so let’s give him a break, okay?’
You’re too soft sometimes, you know that?’
‘Yeah, so I’ve been told.’
* * *
For the next week Spider was engaged on routine surveillance, intelligence gathering and their trademark hearts and minds work, with Geordie dispensing drugs and dressings and carrying out minor operations on the local villagers. It was work that had won the SAS local allies in every campaign in which they’d fought but it was hard going in Afghanistan as Geordie ruefully remarked as they made their way back to the FOB after another long, tiring day in the field. ‘Hearts and Minds is fine when we’re operating on our own. But it only takes the Yanks to fire one Hellfire missile into the middle of an Afghan wedding party to fuck up six months of patient work.’
Shepherd enjoyed meeting the local Afghans and he got some satisfaction from actually being able to help. Antibiotics were in short supply and infections often went untreated. It was amazing to see the difference that a few tablets could make.
After seven days in the field, they were recalled to the main base at Bagram. As the heli landed on the sprawling base, shared with U.S. forces and awash with American personnel, vehicles and kit, they could see that the mountains of military equipment were still being added to, as forklift trucks shuttled between giant C5 transports on the concrete hard standing and the supply dumps ringing the base. It was clear that the Americans were in Afghanistan to stay – for the foreseeable future at least.
As the heli came to a stand and the rotors wound down, Shepherd jumped down and glanced around. ‘Do you know what?’ he said. ‘After a few weeks in that fly-blown dust-bowl we laughingly call an FOB, even Bagram is beginning to look quite civilised.’
‘Don’t get too excited,’ Jock said. ‘The Boss has set up a briefing for seventeen hundred hours today. So we may not be here for long.’
The briefing room was a windowless, air-conditioned room, set below ground in a building shielded by concrete blast walls and berms bulldozed out of the sandy Afghan soil. As Shepherd, Jock, Jimbo and Geordie and the other members of the Squadron filed into the briefing room, they found Todd already there, adjusting a laptop projector and spreading a series of maps and documents on the table. He waited until they had all seated themselves before speaking. ‘Before we get the briefing under way, I have something I need to say.‘ He took a deep breath, then turned to face Shepherd and Jock directly. ‘I owe you all an apology. I screwed up badly over Ahmad Khan. I was an idiot and three men paid the ultimate price for my stupidity. I know nothing can bring those men back, but I want to make what amends I can, and to do so I’m claiming “Droit de Seigneur”. I want to be in at the kill.’
Shepherds eyebrows shot skywards and he could see several of the troopers frowning in confusion.
‘Twat what?’ said Jimbo, and Spider threw him a withering look.
‘How do you know about that?’ Shepherd said.
There was a tradition within the Regiment that the murderer of any SAS guy killed in cold blood would be hunted until he was found and killed. Any man claiming Droit de Seigneur because of his personal involvement with the original incident or friendship with the dead man, had the right to be involved in any operation to kill the murderer.
The Captain saw that several of the men were confused so he struggled to explain himself. Droit de Seigneur goes back to the Middle Ages, when feudal lords claimed the right to deflower the local virgins. In the Regiment it refers to the right for revenge. One of the “old and bold” SAS guys told me about it. He said he’d claimed the right in Oman, after his best mate was killed, but it had also happened as far back as Borneo in the 1960s, when a captured SAS man was tortured and murdered by an Indonesian Army Sergeant. The Squadron offered blood money to the local highland tribes to kill the man responsible and it was paid after the tribesmen produced the head of the Indonesian sergeant as proof that he had been killed.’
Jock raised a hand. ‘You’re confusing me, now. This is about Ahmad Khan?’
Todd flicked his fringe away from his eyes. ‘Very much so.’
‘You know where he is?’
‘That’s the purpose of this briefing. Yes.’ He looked over at the Major who was sitting at the back of the room, his arms folded across his chest. The Major nodded, letting Todd know that he should get on with it.
‘Right,’ said Todd, his confidence returning. ‘We’ve received very credible intelligence that a mud brick building in the tribal areas across the Pakistan border is a money clearing house, where some of the proceeds of the Taliban’s opium trafficking, protection rackets, etc, etc, are being paid out to the local fighters to keep them loyal. We believe there are around a dozen Taliban there. I’ve spent a lot of Intelligence funds tracking Khan, and a fair bit of my own money too. Like I said, I screwed up and I’m doing my best to put it right. Anyway, I have good humint, that’s been assessed by the Boss as well as by me, that Khan is at the clearing house.’
‘Right enough,’ Jock said. ‘Spend enough money, you can always get humint.’ Jimbo murmured in agreement.
Todd took a deep breath. He was clearly uneasy about speaking in public. ‘According to the reports, one of the Taliban there has a curious eye defect - one brown pupil, one milky-white one. The source got close enough to see a group of men in Afghan dress outside the building. Most were holding AK47s, but one had an AK74 slung over his shoulder. I’m ninety per cent sure that we have identified Ahmad Khan.’ He shook his head. ‘Correction, I’m one hundred per cent sure. It’s him. And we need to take him out.’ He nodded at the Major, who had his chin on his chest and seemed to be staring at his boots. ‘I’ve asked the Boss for the chance to lead the group to do the job.’ He paused again, staring unseeing at the wall at the far end of the room. ‘As you all know, I have a personal debt to repay, but if you’re willing to be part of the team, I’d like you men alongside me when we do the job.’ He looked directly at Shepherd and Jock.
Shepherd nodded immediately. Jock flashed him a sideways look. ‘Seriously?’ he whispered.
‘Why not?’ said Shepherd.
Jimbo held up his hand. ‘Count me in,’ he said.
Jock sighed and slowly raised his hands. ‘In for a penny,’ he said.
‘Just like the three musketeers,’ said Jimbo.
‘Make that four,’ said Geordie.
‘We’re all in,’ said Shepherd, and the Captain smiled gratefully.
The Major stood up. ‘Five should be enough,’ he said. ‘We’ll leave you to it. Considering this is over the border, the less we know the better.’
The Major left the room, followed by the rest of the SAS troopers. The Captain walked over to a table that was overflowing with maps, surveillance imagery and intelligence data. Jock, Spider, Jimbo and Geordie joined him.
‘What’s the plan ?’ Jock asked Todd.
‘We take out anyone in the building and destroy any money that’s there,’ said the Captain. ‘That alone will make the mission worthwhile. But there are some very heavy hitters going in and out of that building and every one of them is a viable target. But what I want is the chance to take out Ahmad Kahn. That’s the mission, but obviously you guys have the experience so I’m going to be relying on your know-how.’
As the most experienced man there, Jock took the lead but standard practice was for every man to chip in if he had any suggestions or reservations. ‘Usual rules,’ Jock said. ‘If you’ve anything to say about the plan we’re putting together, say it now. If it all goes tits up, and you’ve said nothing at the planning stage, you don’t get to whine about it afterwards.’ All the men nodded, including the Captain.
‘Okay,’ continued Jock, studying the map a
nd frowning. ‘Insertion will be by Chinook and, given the distance to the target and the time we’re going to need there, it’s going to be close to maximum range even with an extra fuel tank in the cargo bay. So we’re going to have to strip out everything inessential from the heli and make our own kit and equipment as light as possible. It’s going to be a long and not particularly comfortable flight, because the only place left for us and our kit is going to be the tailgate, so we’ll either have to stand or lie on the floor. I think six is the maximum we can take which means we can take one more.’
‘Who do you suggest ?’ asked the Captain.
‘I’ll grab Billy Armstrong,’ said Jock. He’s around somewhere.
‘It’s a long flight, Jock,’ said Shepherd. ‘To save weight we could cut back on the crew.’
Jock nodded. The Chinook would normally be crewed by four men - two pilots and two crewmen, with the second pilot acting as navigator. ‘We can take three pilots and use one of them as a navigator. But Spider’s right, with all the fuel and equipment we’ll need, it’s going to be a heavy flight.’ He looked across at Captain Todd. ‘You’ve not been on one of these super-heavy flights before, have you? Just so you know, when it’s fully loaded - and on this flight it’ll probably be overloaded - the Chinook pilots achieve take off by rolling along the runway until they’ve built up enough momentum and sufficient lift to get airborne. It can be a bit scary if you’re not expecting it.’
‘What about the landing zone?’ asked the Captain.
‘The best type of LZ is a dome-shaped feature because then the wind will usually dissipate the sound of the heli, making it very difficult for Taliban spotters or sentries to pinpoint where it is,’ said Geordie. ‘We’ve often found that it’s impossible to even detect whether a heli is there at all until you can get visual on it, and since we’ll be night-flying without navigation lights, the Taliban will probably have to be sitting on the same hilltop to spot us.’
‘It also gives us a further advantage,’ Shepherd said, ‘because with a feature that’s accessible from all directions, even if we’re observed landing, it’s impossible for anyone to predict in what direction we’re going to move away from there.’
The Captain nodded. It was clear from his expression that this was all very new to him.
They began pouring over a large-scale map of the area around the target. ‘For us to be absolutely certain that the Chinook won’t be detected by anyone at or near the target, the LZ needs to be a minimum of ten kilometres away,’ said Jock. ‘Let’s say twelve clicks for safety.’
‘Which might make this,’ Todd said, tapping the map at a point where the contour lines indicated a roughly round-topped hill with steep, but usable slopes on all sides, ‘a very plausible LZ.’
Shepherd glanced at it. ‘Looks good to me,’ he said. ‘What about getting to the site? We’re going on foot?’
Jock shook his head. ‘With the extra fuel tank filling the load space, we don’t have the room or the weight allowance to use quad bikes. And because it’s a cross-border op, all our kit and particularly anything we’re leaving behind, needs to be non-attributable. I’m thinking 50cc mopeds.’
Geordie laughed out loud. ‘You’re taking the piss, right?’
‘I’m serious, mate,’ said Jock. ‘They’re small, quiet and relatively light, and they’re similar to the ones the Taliban use. That’ll be a big plus if we get spotted by the muj. The heli will land on the Afghan side of the border and we’ll cross on the bikes.’
‘It’s not a great distance,’ Todd said. ‘As you’d expect, the clearing house is very close to the border.’ He rubbed his chin thoughtfully. ‘It works for me.’
Jock nodded. ‘Now, Comms. Because weight is an absolute premium we will not be taking any comms kit other than our Personal Locator Beacons. Once activated, the PLBs send out a pulse signal which will be picked up on a pre-determined frequency by a Nimrod or AWACs aircraft. Activating a single PLB at the selected time will indicate that everything is OK. If more than one PLB is activated at any other time, it will be an emergency signal and the Nimrod will send the Chinook back to the area. It will do a linear approach along the route we are exiting for an immediate pick up. All we have to do is hit a valley and go along it and the Chinook will find us. For short range comms to the Chinook there is a voice capability to talk the heli in to the LZ.’
Todd cleared his throat. ‘Yes, Captain?’ Shepherd said.
‘I understand that weight is at a premium, but I’m wondering why we’re leaving ourselves so light on comms equipment and yet taking half a dozen mopeds for what is only a relatively short distance. We could walk in to the target in a couple of hours.’
‘True,’ Jock said. ‘We could, but when we detonate those charges, every muj within fifty miles is going to come running. So we need to be in like Flynn, do the job and get out again. Okay?’ He waited for a nod from Todd before continuing.
‘Right, I’m thinking all we need is six, four to form a defensive cordon around the building and stop our one-eyed friend, or anyone else for that matter, from escaping, and a two-man assault group. Geordie will be the team medic for emergencies.’ He looked across at the Captain. ‘Spider’s got explosives experience, so I suggest that he and you form the assault group. That gives you the chance to be in at the kill.’
‘That’s fine by me,’ said Todd.
Jock looked at Shepherd. ‘Sure,’ said Shepherd.
‘All good,’ said Jock. ‘Now, arms. All of us will carry AKS 74s, the ones with the folding butts, that can be slung across the chest ready for immediate use. We’re using them because weight restrictions are going to be very tight and the 5.45 cal ammo the AK 74 uses is very light, so we can carry a lot of it. Each man will also carry a three foot length of a sectional ladder, for the assault on our friends’ hide-out.’ He glanced at Todd. ‘Don’t worry, we often use them. They’re standard kit for Counter-Terrorist teams, short enough to carry in vehicles - or on mopeds - and obtainable from most heavy lift aircraft. In theory you can make a ladder as long as you want it, but, judging from the description of the target, we’ll not need more than eighteen feet. It’s a three-storey building and like all assaults we’ll be doing it top down, because it’s impossible to clear a building by going up the stairs. Even a kid with a catapult can be enough to stop a highly-trained team of experts.’ He nodded at Shepherd. ‘Explosives?’
‘I’m thinking of using shaped charges of standard issue, PE4 to effect entry by blowing holes through the walls.’ Shepherd paused. ‘Have you done any demolitions, Captain?’ Captain Todd shook his head. ‘Well, the shaped charges are PE4 plastic explosives held in triangular-shaped sections of plastic material. Because the charge is shaped, it will go through any material: metal, brick, concrete, whatever, without a lot of collateral damage. Provided you protect your ears, you can stand quite near to it, even as close as one or two yards if you’re feeling really lucky, although you’re a lot safer if you’re around a corner when it goes off. Obviously it requires an initiation set to get it to explode and we’ll be using a Number 33 electric detonator - a length of cable and an initiator, either battery or exploder.’
Todd frowned. ‘There may be twelve or even more Taliban fighters inside the building. Are you confident that an assault team of two will be enough? And, apart from the AK74s, what weapons we’ll be using to clear the rooms inside the building of the Taliban?’
‘A dustpan and brush would be handy,’ Jock said, provoking a burst of laughter from the others.
‘There won’t be any Taliban to deal with because anyone inside that building will be dead,’ explained Shepherd. ‘What kills anyone inside a room when a shaped charge detonates is not the debris blown in by the explosion but the sudden increase in air pressure. It’s known as “over-pressure” and it instantly destroys most of the organs in the human body.’ He showed Todd a well-thumbed booklet full of columns of figures. ‘Normally SAS demolitions work with a precise amount of PE4, ca
lculated using these tables in response to the thickness and materials of the walls to be breached and the estimated size of the rooms beyond. You then fill the plastic form that holds the shaped charge with just the right amount of PE4 to breach the walls.’
‘So what form will we be using for this?’ Jimbo asked.
Shepherd shrugged. ‘Well, we’ve got what are probably double-skinned mud-brick walls, and rooms of around two hundred square feet, but knowing that a rat’s nest of Taliban are going to be hiding inside those walls, including the bastard who killed three of our guys, I’m not too worried about precision, so screw them, let’s just go for P for Plenty and pack in enough PE4 to destroy a reinforced concrete wall, never mind a mud-brick one. Any objections?’ No voices were raised in protest. Jock patted him on the back.
‘Lastly, RVs,’ Jock said. ‘First RV here.’ His finger jabbed at a point on the map. ‘Emergency RV here,’ he pointed to another, ‘open until daybreak. The war RV is here,’ he said, moving his finger to another point further from the target. ‘That’ll be good until midnight the following night. After that, anyone separated from the main group will have to make their own E and E. Okay, that’s it. Sunset’s at sixteen-fifty hours local time today. Final briefing at fifteen hundred hours, take-off at sixteen hundred.’
The briefing over, the men filed out of the room. Jock and Shepherd stayed behind until they were alone with the Captain.
Todd looked at Jock. It was clear that the trooper had something on his mind.
‘Permission to speak frankly,’ said Jock.
‘Of course,’ said Todd, frowning.
Jock nodded. ‘We all fuck up somewhere along the way, Captain, and it takes balls to admit it when we do. But only a total twat fucks up twice. With that proviso, we’re with you all the way, but if we are going to work together on this job, there is one other thing we also need to get clear. As you may already have noticed, this isn’t the green army; when we’re at work, experience counts more than rank. If I or Spider or Geordie or Jimbo or any of the others tell you to do something, we don’t expect to have a fucking discussion about it. If one of us tells you to fire, all we ever want to hear from you is “Bang!” Got it?’
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