Kill or Capture (5 page)

His mind drew a blank. So instead he thought of all the audacious things Jabir Hassani had done in the past. He knew Jabir’s career as a Taliban commander had been long and horrifically successful, small raids on ISAF checkpoints being followed by attacks on convoys, FOBs and electricity sub-stations. Finally, Jabir had graduated to major uprisings in towns and cities. Jabir was ambitious. He thought “big”, wanting to make the sort of impact that made headlines; that made the world sit up and pay attention.

Think big. Very big. Connor suddenly shot upright. “Of course!”

Up in a flash, he ran across Camp Delta’s parade ground and crashed through the door to the Ops Room.

Startled, Lieutenant Sharp jumped in his chair.

“Show me the visuals from our drones. Those covering where the president’s going to make his speech near the dam,” Connor demanded.

“Of course, major.” Sharp tapped on his laptop to bring up the live drone camera feeds. “There you go, sir. Actually, I was just about to come and find you.”

“Why?” Connor asked, only half listening. He was squinting at the laptop’s split screen, which displayed four real-time camera inputs from two separate drones.

“At about the time of your helo evac in the valley last night, our comms surveillance unit intercepted a mobile phone call originating nearby.”

“And?”

“It was to Jabir Hassani. Like to listen to it?”

Connor stopped what he was doing and nodded. Sharp hit another key on his laptop.

“
……They have been deceived. It is enough of a victory for one day. Tomorrow, they shall all die. Well done, Shafiq. Come and join us. We shall watch them die together.”

A shiver ran down Connor’s back. “Don’t suppose they got a fix on Jabir’s phone’s location, did they?”

“Yes. It was to the north. But it’s of no use, sir. He was on the move and the phone was switched off immediately after the call. He could be anywhere by now.”

“Damn!” Connor tightened his fist.

Sharp grinned. “But they have managed to track the phone of the sender, the one called Shafiq. He left his phone powered on. He was on the move for three hours. Finally, he stopped here, sir.” He flipped screens to show a map. A blinking red dot marked the location.

“They’re in the mountains,” Connor observed. “About three kilometres from the Dhala dam.”

“Yes, major. A splendid panoramic view, I reckon. I’ve asked that a high-altitude Predator drone is diverted to scan the area.”

Connor nodded. “Good. Yes, it all fits… Get General Patterson and everyone else down here. They’re going to want to hear this.”

“Hear what exactly, sir?”

“That I’ve figured it out… Jabir’s going to blow the dam! And as a wall of water pours down towards Kandahar, Jabir will be watching it sweep away the president and everyone else.”

The blood drained from Sharp’s face. “B—B—But thousands of people will drown. Maybe tens of thousands. There isn’t time to evacuate.”

“Then we’d better stop it from happening.”

“Come, Shafiq, sit beside me. It is a momentous day. We shall watch history unfold together.”

Jabir was in an excellent mood. Sitting cross-legged on a plump velvet cushion embroidered with gold thread, he popped a grape into his mouth and gazed down into the valley. Far in the distance, he could just make out the Dhala dam. “Ibrahim, bring me a glass of tea and my binoculars.”

Shafiq sat down. “Do you think they’ll cancel the president’s speech?”

“Perhaps, if they are wise. But no matter. The destruction of the dam will proceed and the world will realise that, even after years of war, we Taliban still control our country.”

It was six o’clock. The sun was low and cast a rich golden glow over the Arghandab valley. Shafiq sighed and then looked all round. “Where’s Father? He will want to watch this too. I haven’t seen him all day.”

Jabir laughed lightly, reached out and placed a comforting hand on the boy’s shoulder. “You should feel proud. Faisal volunteered to lead my men. Your father — my brother — will soon be making the journey to Paradise.”

Shafiq frowned. “What do you mean, ‘to Paradise’?”

Jabir pointed towards the Dhala dam. “He is there. Hiding in the maintenance tunnels. Watching over the explosives. He will detonate them at exactly seven o’clock. But do not worry, Shafiq. Your father will become a shahid, and will pass first through the gates of Paradise.”

Shafiq leaped to his feet. “No! He can’t! He mustn’t. I don’t want him to die.”

The warren of concrete tunnels inside the dam was lit by fluorescent strip lights. Faisal and six of Jabir’s men had been let in the previous morning by a maintenance worker sympathetic to their cause.

Faisal headed for the level three tunnel. He had been informed that it was perfectly positioned, about two thirds the way down the dam — its weakest point if blown from inside. Faisal directed the men as they stacked the wooden crates of explosives up against the wall. He then took great care inserting the detonator into the priming charge. He ran wires to a battery pack and checked that the circuit worked. It was done. A flick of a switch was all that was needed to detonate a bomb big enough to punch a massive hole in the dam. He knelt and led his men in prayer before sending two of them to guard each end of the tunnel, and the remaining pair to patrol the level above.

With less than half an hour to go, and having spent the day reading aloud from his Qur’an, Faisal readied himself for his journey to Paradise. He shaved off his beard, then pouring water into a small bowl, he washed his face and hands. He was calm, happy and content.

Danny grabbed hold of the handle attached to the heavy reinforced steel door. It was located to one side of the dam, and gave access to the heavy machinery controlling the flow of water through the sluice gates. Beyond the room stairwells led into the structure of the dam, and the network of tunnels. He waited for Connor’s signal over the radio. A safe distance away, engineers from bomb disposal readied their equipment. They would enter with a Ranger escort only when Delta Force gave the all clear.

On top of the dam, Connor, Ben and Sam checked their ropes and climbed over the railings. Leaning back and letting the ropes take the strain, Connor issued the order to move, and together they abseiled rapidly down the dam towards an access grille to level four. At the same time, Danny hauled the door open and quietly slipped inside the control room, with Jacko and Sparks close behind.

Connor’s boots bounced lightly as he fed metre after metre of rope through his hands and harness. In seconds he’d reached the same height as the grille. It was located close to the sluice gates, where thousands of gallons of water a minute gushed through. It fell to the valley below, feeding the river, canal and irrigation channels. He traversed sideways, skipping over the dam’s smooth concrete. He reached out and grabbed one of the grille’s bars.

Connor was quickly joined by Ben and Sam. He ignored the spray pounding his face and set about attaching a separate rope to the grille. This would stop it plummeting when removed.

Meanwhile, Danny made his way swiftly through the control room, only pausing briefly to examine the body of a maintenance worker whose throat had been cut. Surrounded by pipework and whirring machinery, the air was filled with the constant muffled roar of fastflowing water. Jacko and Sparks covered Danny as he hurried to a watertight hatch, which led to level two of the maintenance tunnels and the stairs down.

Using both hands and all his strength, Danny tried to turn the wheel to unlock the hatch. Stubbornly, it refused to budge. Jacko lent a hand. Between them, they finally got it to yield and they hauled the hatch open. Sparks pointed his silenced M4 through the gap and targeted two insurgents walking towards the door. They were midway along the tunnel. Sparks fired four shots, all hitting their mark, and the Taliban collapsed to the floor.

Faisal snatched the cloth away from his face. He thought he’d heard something over the constant muffled roar of water. It sounded like men crying out. He reached for his AK-47 and called out to the men guarding the ends of level three.

“Major,” Danny whispered into his throat mic. “The Taliban are still here. Two targets down in level two tunnel. We’re proceeding down to level three, over.”

“Copy that. We’re entering level four, over.”

The grille now hung from a rope. Sam clambered into the ventilation shaft, followed by Ben. The main access tunnel was empty. “Clear!”

Connor followed. “Level four clear, Jacko. We’re proceeding up to level three via the mid-tunnel access ladder, over.”

Faisal was convinced there was a problem, despite his men at either end of level three signalling that all was well. Clutching his rifle he moved over to where an access ladder led to the level below. He leaned forward, peered down and listened. Was that whispering he could hear? Or just water? He glanced at his watch. Ten minutes to go, or, he could blow the dam now. Yes, he thought, blow it now, before it is too late.

At the north end of the dam, Jacko, Danny and Sparks quietly descended the concrete steps. They saw shadows, movement and heard voices speaking Pashto. Without hesitating they advanced, entering level three. A silenced burst of fire from Jacko’s M4 killed both guards at close range.

It was only the sound of his men falling down that made Faisal turn. American soldiers were in the tunnel! He fired his AK-47 from the hip. A bullet smacked into Sparks’s shoulder and he crumpled to the floor. Jacko dragged him clear of the Taliban’s line of fire. Danny tucked in behind some piping as bullets struck the walls around him. “Target located! Major, looks like the action is on level three! Sparks is down.”

Danny and Jacko returned fire at the Taliban gunman. The man — Faisal — let out a cry and fell behind a row of crates.

Faisal was wounded and in agony, but he could see the detonation switch. It was almost within reach. He stretched out his hand.

“Danny, cover me, over,” Connor said over the comms. He emerged at speed from the access ladder and spotted Faisal reaching up for a box on top of a stack of crates. Connor shot him twice in rapid fire and then sprawled flat against the ground. He’d spotted two more Taliban break cover at the far end of the tunnel. Jacko had them covered and a short burst of fire took them down. Connor rolled to where Faisal lay and quickly checked that the Taliban fighter was dead. He was.

“Secure the tunnel,” Connor shouted. “Danny, sitrep, over.”

Danny was already applying pressure pads to Sparks’s shoulder, while Jacko covered the door they’d entered through. “Sparks needs immediate medevac. He’s taken one in the shoulder, sir. Think the bullet’s gone right through, over.”

“Level three secure, over,” declared Sam.

“Good, Sam and Jacko hold positions. Ben assist Danny getting Sparks up top, over.”

Danny and Ben hauled Sparks up the stairs, while Connor pressed on ahead. He was in a hurry. He had to confirm the dam was clear, and he had one more job to do.

Jabir finished his glass of tea and glanced at his watch. It was three minutes to seven. His wait was almost over. He glanced round. Shafiq had wandered off. Jabir rose to his feet and called out to him.

Unable to hold back the tears, Shafiq had hidden among some rocks with his mobile, out of earshot of his uncle. He repeatedly tried to call his father’s mobile number. Every time it failed to connect. He suspected the signal couldn’t penetrate the thick walls of the dam, and he despaired. He’d not even said goodbye. Maybe he could’ve persuaded him not to do it, not to martyr himself.

“There you are, Shafiq. What are you doing? What is that you are holding?”

Tears welled up in the boy’s eyes again.

Jabir snatched the phone from Shafiq’s hand. The Taliban commander cried out, “No!”

Shafiq tried to grab it back.