Death in the Desert Page 5

  ‘Right,’ nodded Omari.

  ‘Afterwards, I suggest you get back and stay with the vehicles. The Taliban look like they outnumber us. In case this doesn’t go as we hope, you’d better make sure you get away.’

  Omari hesitated. ‘I’m supposed to be with you,’ he said.

  ‘You’re supposed to stay alive,’ said Nelson firmly.

  ‘OK,’ agreed Omari. He hurried off to urge the villagers to safety.

  Gaz ran down from the roof. ‘ETA, seven minutes,’ he announced. ‘I count fourteen of them. All armed.’

  ‘I wonder if they know we’re here?’ murmured Nelson in Tug’s earshot.

  ‘I don’t think so,’ said Tug. ‘If they knew that they wouldn’t be marching in the way they are; they’d be coming in on different sides and mounting a proper guerrilla attack. No, I’m sure this is just a punishment visit.’

  ‘OK, take your positions, guys,’ said Nelson. ‘I’ll go with Two Moons. Benny and Tug together. Mitch and Gaz.’

  The soldiers headed towards the three buildings that looked out towards the desert. Mitch and Gaz ran up the steps and crawled across the baked mud of the roof to the edge and peered out.

  Through his binoculars Mitch could make out the Taliban fighters’ weapons. Most of them appeared to be carrying Kalashnikov AK-74s. That made sense when the fighters were on foot. It was a relatively light gun: thirteen pounds unloaded, lighter than the AK47. There were quite a few in Afghanistan. With a firing rate of 650 rounds a minute, it was a solid, trustworthy rifle.

  The fourteen Taliban fighters were nearly at the village now. They were moving very confidently, sure of their purpose. Mitch could see their eyes. Men on a holy mission, armed and very, very dangerous. To them, there was only one correct way of living: their way.

  Mitch and Gaz levelled their rifles, ready to go into action, when suddenly they heard gunfire from inside the village.

  14

  The effect on the Taliban was immediate. The fighters ran to the nearest cover, ducking and crouching low as they ran, just as Nelson and the men of Delta Unit opened fire.

  ‘Gaz! See what that shooting is!’ Nelson’s voice ordered in their earpieces.

  ‘I’m on it!’ responded Gaz. He slid across the roof to the village side and dropped down to the ground. The shots from inside the village had stopped, now there was a mix of shooting from Delta Unit and the return fire of the Taliban fighters from behind the rocks and ridges of sand.

  ‘No sign of hostiles in the village,’ came Gaz’s voice. ‘I reckon it was a warning to alert the Taliban.’

  ‘Stay village side, Gaz,’ ordered Nelson. ‘Just in case whoever it was decides to launch an attack from inside.’

  ‘Got it,’ confirmed Gaz.

  Mitch took a break from firing and looked across at the next roof. Two Moons had the grenade launcher on his shoulder, taking aim. There was a whoosh! as the launcher fired, and the grenade sailed through the air, exploding right on the Taliban lines.

  Fire and black smoke belched out where it struck. There were yells and return gunfire, but it was obvious Two Moons’ shot had had an effect. Mitch saw some of the Taliban fighters get up from the area near where the grenade had hit and run for better cover. Mitch let off a burst of bullets and saw two of the Taliban go down as they ran.

  The Taliban launched a new attack and their shooting now came from a different direction. Two Moons delivered two grenades and the gunfire fell silent.

  Suddenly five figures rose up from behind the ridges of rock and sand and began to run towards the village, firing wildly, bullets from their automatic rifles spattering the houses and ricocheting off the rocks. It was a desperate attempt at an attack. Against a lesser opponent it might have worked, but the soldiers of Delta Unit were professionals. They shot at the advancing Taliban, who fell to the ground.

  The firing from the Taliban fighters had now stopped completely.

  ‘Give it a minute,’ warned Nelson. ‘Just in case it’s a trick.’

  They waited and let the seconds tick by. Then Nelson said, ‘OK. Mitch, Benny and Tug, go check the bodies. Gaz, give Two Moons a hand in getting the ordnance back to the vehicle. I’ll try and find out what happened in the village.’

  Mitch came down from the roof, then he, Tug and Benny moved out towards the Taliban lines. They kept a good distance between each other, alert and waiting for one of the fighters to rise and take shots at them. But nothing happened. The Taliban fighters were all dead. ‘Body count,’ said Tug.

  They counted. Nine dead Taliban behind the ridge. Five in the open area near the village. Fourteen bodies. All accounted for.

  15

  Benny, Tug and Mitch headed back to the village. They arrived in the square to find Nelson and Omari talking to Parwaz Shah. Omari was translating, while Two Moons and Gaz stood watching.

  Parwaz Shah looked very unhappy indeed. He was gesturing out towards the desert, and at the surrounding houses, and there was no mistaking the urgency and plaintiveness in his voice. It was noticeable that none of the other villagers were out on the street: they had all chosen to remain indoors.

  ‘What’s he saying?’ Mitch asked.

  ‘He’s unhappy we killed the Taliban,’ said Omari. ‘He’s afraid there’ll be retribution.’

  ‘You mean he’d have preferred the Taliban to carry out their punishment?’ asked Benny.

  ‘Maybe,’ said Omari.

  Suddenly Tug strode towards Parwaz Shah and threw a question at him in Pushtu. Although Tug was doing his very best to keep himself under control, to the others it was obvious he was angry. Shah glared at Tug and snapped something back, then stormed off towards his house.

  ‘Guess friendly relations have just broken down,’ muttered Two Moons.

  ‘What did you ask him?’ Nelson asked Tug.

  ‘I just asked him who fired that shot,’ said Tug.

  Omari shook his head. ‘No,’ he corrected him. ‘Your manner suggested that you were accusing him of being involved.’

  ‘Can you be sure he wasn’t?’ demanded Tug.

  Omari shrugged. ‘I don’t know,’ he admitted. ‘But I think we’ve outstayed our welcome here. It’s time we moved on – and fast.’

  The question of who had fired the warning shot was the main topic of conversation for Mitch, Gaz and Two Moons as they drove along. Once again they were bringing up the rear of the convoy. When they had exhausted that topic, their conversation turned to the journey and their mission ahead.

  ‘How far you reckon we got to go before we hit Kajaki District?’ Two Moons asked.

  Mitch checked the satellite navigation system. ‘I calculate another twenty miles,’ he said.

  The convoy crawled along the main road through the desert, rocky hills rising up on either side of them.

  They had been travelling for just over an hour when Nelson’s voice came over the radio: ‘Rocks across the road ahead.’

  ‘Rockfall?’ came Tug’s voice.

  ‘Nix that,’ said Nelson. ‘Looks like another ambush. Everybody back!’

  Mitch immediately swung the wheel, bumping the vehicle in a circle to turn it back the way they had come, but as he did so an explosion at the side of the road threw rocks and dust across the track in front of them. Another explosion went off, and more rocks rained down in a cloud of choking dust.

  ‘Why didn’t the detector pick up those IEDs?’ demanded Gaz.

  ‘Because they’re not roadside IEDs,’ said Mitch. ‘That was a rocket-propelled grenade.’ Into the radio he relayed the message to the other vehicles: ‘The road’s cut off this way. RPGs flying everywhere.’

  ‘OK, group up,’ said Nelson.

  Once again, Mitch swung the Humvee round and headed towards Tug and Benny’s car. Even as he did so, bullets were ricocheting off the armour of the vehicle and the rocks around them.

  Tug had pulled his car to a halt. Nelson’s vehicle joined them from the other direction.

  ‘Triangle,�
� commanded Nelson. ‘Circle those wagons.’

  They put the three armoured cars into a protective triangle, and then spilled out into the area of shelter between them. All the time bullets thudded into the ground and pinged off the metal.

  ‘Let me guess. The Taliban?’ said Nelson.

  Omari nodded. ‘This is no coincidence,’ he said grimly. ‘This is revenge for killing those Taliban back in the village.’

  ‘How would they know that was us? We got them all,’ said Nelson.

  ‘I guess not everyone in that village thinks the Taliban are a bad thing,’ commented Tug bitterly. ‘Remember, someone fired that warning shot.’

  The team had already taken up firing positions behind the vehicles and were pouring tracers of bullets out into the desert. Although they couldn’t see their attackers, they knew the general direction the gunfire was coming from and were set on keeping the enemy contained.

  ‘I think I’ve got something,’ said Two Moons, scanning the area through his binoculars. ‘A position due east. They’re hunkered down, using rocks and dips in the ground for cover.’

  ‘They’re over to the west and the north too,’ said Mitch, also scanning the landscape.

  ‘And the south,’ added Tug. ‘So I think we can truthfully say we’re surrounded.’

  ‘How many of them?’ asked Nelson.

  ‘Judging by the amount of gunfire: forty. Maybe fifty.’

  ‘They’ve got at least one RPG launcher,’ said Benny. ‘So they could do serious damage to the vehicles, armoured or not.’

  ‘In which case, we’ll all fry,’ said Tug.

  ‘Cover me. It’s time we unloaded some of our own big guns,’ said Two Moons. ‘Maybe level this playing field a bit, as you Brits are fond of saying. Give me a hand, Mitch?’

  ‘You got it,’ replied Mitch.

  Tug, Benny and Gaz started laying down covering fire in a circular pattern, tracers of bullets tearing into rocks, ridges, scrub and the few thin, twisted trees, while Two Moons opened up the rear of one of the vehicles. He and Mitch began unloading a mortar and rounds. Swiftly, Two Moons set the mortar up on the ground, the trajectory of the shells set so they would sail over the roof of the vehicle towards the target.

  ‘Someone give me a bearing,’ said Two Moons.

  Tug gave him a set of coordinates. ‘There’s quite a group of them there, judging by the bullets coming from that direction.’

  ‘Then let’s give ’em something to think about!’ Two Moons fired off two mortar shells in rapid succession. Tug watched their flight, then focused his binoculars where they exploded.

  The enemy responded with more gunfire, forcing the men to duck down and take cover. Some of the bullets found the gaps between the cars, and Tug stumbled back, clutching his chest.

  ‘You hit?’ demanded Nelson.

  ‘No. Luckily the body armour took it,’ Tug reassured him.

  Nelson took Tug’s position near the front and fired off a burst at the attackers.

  There was the familiar whoompf! of an RPG being launched in the distance.

  ‘Incoming!’ yelled Two Moons.

  They heard a whoosh, and the rocket-propelled grenade passed over the tops of the vehicles and exploded in the desert on the other side of them, not far off.

  ‘That was close,’ groaned Gaz.

  ‘Too close!’ snapped Nelson. ‘If he gets his eye in, the next one will kill us.’

  ‘We’ve got to take the battle to them,’ said Tug. ‘We use the Humvees.’

  ‘We don’t know what the conditions are off road,’ Benny pointed out. ‘We could get bogged down in sand.’

  ‘But at least we’ll be forcing them to spread their fire. Here, we’re trapped like fish in a barrel.’

  More gunfire poured into their position, bullets ricocheting around them, tearing into the ground around their feet.

  ‘They’re closing in on us,’ said Nelson. ‘This isn’t looking good.’ He turned to Omari. ‘You’ve got a chance if you surrender.’

  Omari shook his head. ‘I was with you when you killed the Taliban at the village,’ he said. ‘We’re tarred with the same brush.’

  ‘You could tell them you were our prisoner,’ said Nelson.

  ‘Somehow I don’t think they’d believe me,’ said Omari.

  The firing from the Taliban was getting heavier as the fighters drew nearer to their position.

  ‘This is like Custer’s Last Stand,’ grunted Gaz.

  ‘Except you got an Indian with you,’ said Two Moons.

  Another RPG flew over their heads, barely missing them. They responded, letting fly with tracers of bullets towards the Taliban. Suddenly Benny crashed back against one of the vehicles and slumped forwards, blood streaming down his face.

  16

  ‘Man down!’ yelled Nelson.

  Mitch had already slid over to Benny, who lay unconscious with a bullet wound bleeding high on his forehead. Suddenly Benny made a choking sound, and then stopped breathing.

  Acting quickly, Mitch pushed Benny down on the ground so he was prone, and began to carry out CPR: pinching Benny’s nostrils tight and blowing air into his lungs, then pressing down on his chest, counting silently as he did so: 1, 2, 3, 4, 5, 6, 7… then blowing into Benny’s mouth and lungs again. ‘Come on, Benny!’ he whispered urgently. ‘Breathe!’

  Blood from Benny’s wound was running down on to the sand. Where was the bullet? Had it hit Benny in the brain?

  Bullets continued to pour in from the Taliban positions. Two Moons fired off more mortars, set on keeping the enemy down. From behind the vehicles they heard the explosions as the mortars struck, but the firing just started up again even harder.

  ‘We can’t hold out much longer,’ said Tug. ‘We have to use the cars and make a break for it.’

  As he said it, there was another whoosh! then one of the vehicles rocked and crumpled down on to the sand.

  The men, deafened and shaken by the blast, shook their heads, recovering.

  ‘That’s one vehicle gone,’ said Gaz.

  Mitch continued applying CPR, blowing air into Benny and hammering away with the chest compressions, pressing harder now, willing Benny to make a sound, any sort of sound …

  Suddenly there was a groan and a rush of air from Benny’s lungs, and Mitch offered up a silent prayer of thanks.

  Another burst of Taliban gunfire raked across the vehicles, making them all duck and press against the sides for cover.

  ‘I think Tug’s right, we have to take it to the enemy,’ said Nelson. ‘Sooner or later one of these vehicles is gonna get a direct hit and blow up, taking us with it.’ To Mitch, he called, ‘How’s Benny doing?’

  ‘He’s alive,’ said Mitch. ‘Just.’

  Mitch tore a strip of cloth from his costume and began to wrap it round Benny’s head to staunch the flow of blood from the wound.

  Suddenly they heard a huge explosion from the Taliban lines, so loud that they felt the ground shudder around them.

  ‘What the …?’ began Two Moons.

  There was a second explosion, this one from a different position, but from the yells and screams they could tell it was a direct hit on the Taliban.

  ‘Tank shells!’ yelled Tug.

  Yet another explosion tore into the Taliban lines. Now, from their hiding place, they could see the remaining Taliban fighters running away. As they stepped out from behind the cover of the Humvees they heard the rumbling of tank tracks and the whooshing of helicopter blades. A burst of gunfire tore over their heads, making them duck, and they heard an English voice call out through a loudspeaker, ‘Face down on the ground! Spread your arms!’

  ‘OK, do as the man says,’ ordered Nelson.

  The men put their weapons to one side and lay down in the sand. After a while, they felt the ground beneath them shudder and tremble as the heavy tanks drew near. Then came the sound of engines and tractor wheels. Mitch began to lift his head, but the same voice from the loudspeaker rapped out, ‘Stay s
till!’ Next came the sound of boots hurrying towards them and the click of guns being prepared and aimed.

  ‘Sarge! I think we found those drug dealers the colonel was talking about!’

  17

  The men of Delta Unit, along with Omari, lay face down in the sand, their hands spread out. They could see the boots of the soldiers standing guard over them. Past them they could see tanks and desert crawlers. Mitch lay next to Benny, watching him closely, making sure he was breathing even though he was unconscious.

  ‘We’ve got a badly injured man here!’ shouted Nelson. ‘He needs urgent medical attention or he’ll die!’

  A voice shouted, ‘Paramedics!’ and two men appeared and dropped to their knees beside Benny’s still body.

  ‘How is he?’ demanded Nelson.

  ‘Shut up!’ snapped one of the soldiers.

  ‘He’s alive,’ said a paramedic. ‘But only just.’ He shouted out, ‘Stretcher over here! Quickly! Get this one to Camp Bastion.’ The stretcher party came running and loaded Benny on, then set off for the nearest helicopter, the paramedics hurrying alongside.

  Mitch started to get up, but a rifle was jabbed into his back, forcing him back down on to the ground.

  ‘I said stay there!’ shouted the soldier.

  Face down in the sand, Mitch tried to shift his body to get a better view of what was going on. Another pair of boots arrived to join the soldiers, and a new voice asked, ‘Is this all of them, Sergeant?’

  ‘Yes, sir,’ barked the sergeant in a strong Geordie accent. ‘We’ve searched the area, but there are no others. Just a few dead hostiles. One casualty being taken to Camp Bastion.’

  ‘Good,’ said the new voice. Then he addressed the men lying face down. ‘Now listen. You will put your hands behind your back. My men will handcuff you. You will then stand up. Do not make any attempt to escape or resist.’ Then he added, ‘All right, Sergeant. Handcuff them.’

  ‘Yes, Captain,’ said the sergeant. Then, in harsher tones, he snapped at the men on the ground, ‘You heard the captain. Hands behind your backs!’