Hostage Crisis (4 page)

Amin laughed then sighed. “Perhaps you are right. But now we must sleep.”

Weak and feverish, Masud could not walk far unaided. For three days his men took it in turns to carry him and it slowed their progress.

Kate tried to walk as slowly as possible too, frequently demanding they stop to rest. She thought that the longer it took them to reach the training camp, the better the chances were that a rescue attempt would be made. As she walked she studied the ridges and valleys, and listened out, hoping to see or hear her saviours come. But they didn't, and she began to wonder whether the tracking device around her neck actually worked.

“I still think we should let her go,” Hassan said to Amin.

“If it were up to me, I'd let her go, Hassan. Just to shut you up! But, I have spoken to Masud and it's out of the question. He is grateful, of course, but insists it changes nothing.”

Hassan caught Kate staring at him and supposed she was relying on him to mastermind their escape. Any idea of sneaking off in the middle of the night was hopeless — Kate was closely guarded at all times. “Can I ask you something?” Hassan said as they paused to rest on a high ridge between two valleys. Amin nodded wearily. “What made you join the Taliban?”

“My home town of Kalat was bombed. All my family killed. The Americans initially denied it, but eventually said that it was a mistake. Their intelligence was wrong. So, you see, Hassan, we share much in common. Both our families, both our innocent fathers and mothers are dead.”

Hassan despaired. What Amin said was only half true. The big difference was that it had been the Taliban who'd killed Hassan's family, not the Americans. He suddenly felt the gulf between them widen to that of a great ocean, but he still wanted to think of Amin as a friend.

“So, I chose jihad,” Amin added. Shielding his eyes he scanned the valley below and then reached out and pointed with delight. “Allah be praised. There is the camp, Hassan. See it? With good fortune we shall reach it by dusk. Go and pass on the good news to the others.”

Hassan could just make out the mud-brick walls that formed the perimeter of the camp. There were buildings too, including flat-roofed towers at each corner. He got up and wandered back to where Kate was sitting. “We shall be there by nightfall,” he said, noticing the growing fear in Kate's eyes.

Connor had heard back from Abdul that Faruq was willing to help him. He’d also had confirmation from Central Command that Masud and his men had reached the training camp. Connor rounded up his Delta Force team for a briefing.

“The GPS signal indicates Miss Shawcross is being held in the tower at the south-west corner of the compound. Central Command’s plan is as follows. Units Arrow and Spear will helo in to the north, head south and launch an assault. Zero hour is tomorrow at midnight. The moment they engage the enemy we will blow a hole in the compound’s perimeter wall close to the tower. We extract Miss Shawcross and get the hell out of there before the air strike. Naturally, this means that before everything kicks off, we have to get to the wall and place the explosive charges undetected.”

Connor was surprised by the silence. Finally, Ben piped up. “OK, sir, maybe you’d now like to tell us
your
plan.”

Sparks added, “We know you’re still looking for the boy, Hassan. And he’s probably there too, with Masud, right?”

Connor was stunned. “You guys don’t miss a thing.”

The team smiled. “We can read you like a book!” Sparks laughed.

“All right. This is what I have in mind. We’re going to rendezvous with a local Baloch warlord called Faruq.” Connor saw the surprise on the faces of his men. “Bear with me, guys. At my request, Faruq has called a shura, a meeting with the training camp’s leaders, to discuss some issues. Apparently, the latest group of Taliban recruits has been stealing his chickens and he’s not very happy about it. I’m going with him. I’ll find Hassan and then get to Miss Shawcross by the time you’re set to blow the wall.”

Ben whistled through his teeth. “Can you really trust this Faruq? And what if you get caught? We’ll lose the element of surprise.”

Sparks came to Connor’s defence. “That’s true, but Major Connor can make an excellent case for being on the inside. Our blanket charges will blow one hell of a hole in that wall and will cause substantial damage to nearby buildings. If Miss Shawcross is standing in the wrong place at the wrong time we may end up dragging out her dead body. It would be far better if someone was there to make sure she’s safe.”

“And don’t worry about Faruq,” Connor added. “He’s getting everything he wants. Ten of the finest horses in this region of Afghanistan. I’ve bought his loyalty.”

Sparks looked round for nods from the rest of the team and then said, “OK, count us in.”

“Just one question, sir,” said Sam. “Why ten horses?”

“Four will carry our supplies. The rest we ride to meet up in secret with Faruq, at the entrance to a mountain pass west of his camp. We’ll fly in and pick up the horses. We’ll have just a three-hour ride ahead of us.”

The following day, Hassan was told to join a group of new recruits. His time was filled with prayers, exercise, weapons training and instruction on tactics for guerrilla warfare.

He barely had a moment to himself, but Hassan still felt lonely, fearful and out of place. A strange atmosphere hung over the camp. When they were shown the row of suicide vests and ordered to try them on for size, he felt the desperate urge to run away. The others put them on, and were keen to learn how they should best detonate them in crowded places. All Hassan could think of was escaping.

Finally, he had the chance to talk to Amin. His friend looked far from happy.

“The camp’s leader has taken my
tanbur
,” Amin complained. “Music is not permitted here. What is life without music?”

“That’s a shame. How is Masud?” Hassan asked.

“He’s resting.”

“The Americans have one more day to fulfil his demands. Allah willing, they will pay the ransom. Then Masud can release Kate.” Hassan noticed that Amin looked away. “What? What is it?”

“I fear Kate’s fate is already sealed.”

“What do you mean?” asked Hassan anxiously.

“I overheard them talking, Hassan. The camp’s leader is very angry that Masud brought her here. He fears that the Americans might attack. Worse, he said that as she knows our location, she can never be freed. They will kill her, whatever happens.”

“They can’t. We must do something, Amin.”

“There is nothing we can do, Hassan. Now, I have to go. I have been given a dozen tasks. Tomorrow evening there is an important shura here, a meeting with a powerful local Baloch warlord.”

Hassan sat well away from the others in the camp and desperately tried to think. Kate’s life was in his hands. He’d promised he would help her escape. He was her only hope. Tearing at his hair, he dreamt up a plan of sorts, involving guns and shooting their way out. It was madness and Hassan knew it. But it was all he could think of.

On the day of the rescue mission, Delta Force dressed in the flowing robes of Baloch tribesmen. They rode at a gallop, making for the meeting with Faruq.

At mid-afternoon they arrived at the entrance to the mountain pass. Connor struggled to rein in his powerful horse. They waited out of the baking sun, scanning the surrounding rocky slopes.

After half an hour, an extremely large man with a long black beard emerged from among the rocks. Men with rifles appeared high up on the mountainside all round Connor and his men. They were surrounded.

“Allah be praised. Major Connor, he is surely the finest horse in all Afghanistan.”

Connor dismounted and handed the reins to Faruq. “Yes, and he’s all yours.”

They greeted formally the Afghan way, embracing and bumping shoulders.

“I thought it best to meet away from my camp, Major,” Faruq added. “There are informants everywhere.” He waved his men down from the mountainside. “Those you can see are men I know I can trust. We have fought together for many years. Come, we must start our journey to this evening’s shura.” A look of unease passed across his rugged, weather-beaten face. “I assume you have come to kill the Taliban leader.”

“Not exactly,” Connor replied.

“Oh?” Faruq looked puzzled.

“He’s got something we want.”

Faruq frowned.

“Don’t worry. As long as you leave by eleven thirty, you’ll be safe.”

Kate heard the bolt to her cell slide back. Then the door opened and light streamed in.

“I have brought you some bread and water,” said Hassan.

“Hurry up, boy,” growled one of the guards.

“Listen,” Hassan whispered. “I'm not sure how, but I will try and help you to escape. Hold out your hand.”

Kate did so and Hassan pressed a pistol into it.

“It's loaded. When the time comes you must be ready to use it.”

“But how do we get out of here? There are so many of them. It's suicide, Hassan.”

“It may be our only chance.”

“No, Hassan.

“No? Then as sure as the sun rises in the east, you will die. It's been decided.”

“There's still time for the ransom to be paid.”

“The ransom makes no difference. And no one will come to rescue you. No one knows you are here. I will try to get us out. I have to go. May Allah protect us.”

It had been dark for three hours by the time Delta Force and Faruq’s men reached the valley of the Taliban camp. Danny and Jacko did a sweep with night-vision binoculars and thermal-imaging scopes and located the glow of lookouts stationed outside the camp’s walls. There were three and they’d be dealt with silently once Connor was inside.

Connor’s men had taken off their Baloch tribal dress to reveal their desert fatigues underneath. They’d also applied black paint to their faces, to camouflage them in the moonlight. Connor was still dressed for the shura. Faruq handed Connor a battered old AK-47. “We leave the horses here. They will expect us all to be armed. But we have to hand in our weapons at the gate and shall have them returned when we leave. No guns are allowed at shuras. Your disguise is acceptable, Major, and your grasp of Pashto sufficient to be understood. But your accent might give you away, so blend in with my men and try to avoid speaking.”

“Agreed.” Connor slung the rifle over his shoulder. Then he thought twice and handed it back. “I’ll be staying when you leave. An extra rifle will raise suspicion. Will they search us?”

Faruq shook his head. “Our customs require a degree of trust on such occasions.”

Connor was relieved as he felt safer keeping his combat knife strapped to his left shin.

Faruq led the way with his dozen men, Connor among them, along the stony path towards the glow of lamps and the gate to the Taliban’s fortified compound. A face appeared over the parapet and called out. Faruq responded. As they waited for the gates to open, Connor leaned forward and whispered, “Remember, Faruq, make damn sure you and your men are out of there by eleven thirty. And, whatever you do, don’t head north or else you might run into a rather nasty surprise.”

Once inside and disarmed, the party were led towards a large, two-storey building. Meanwhile, outside, Sparks remained at the evac co-ordinates. He maintained radio contact with CENTCOM and the rest of Delta Force. Jacko sloped off into the night, a silencer attached to his M4 rifle, and Sam followed. Within the hour they had dealt with the external lookouts.

Danny and Ben had the hardest job of all. Carrying the heavy blanket explosive in camouflaged backpacks they crawled lizard-like, chins in the dirt, slowly towards the south-west corner of the training camp. Progress was painfully slow with long spells lying perfectly still in the moon shadows.