Spider Shepherd: SAS: #2 (26 page)

Todd looked over at the Major but Gannon just shrugged.  It wasn’t the sort of mission that he could force on his men. ‘Right,’ Todd said, after a lengthy pause. ‘I’ll see if the members of the Para Support Group are less mule-headed.’

Todd strode out of the room.

‘Tosser,’ said one of the troopers.

‘Bloody Rupert,’ said another.

‘Give the guy a break, lads,’ said the Major. ‘He’s still wet behind the ears.’

‘I know he’s keen, Boss, but this has all the makings of a trap,’ said Shepherd. ‘We’ve seen this guy and something doesn’t smell right.’

‘Yeah, and it’s not just the fact that he hasn’t showered for a month,’ said Geordie.

‘No one’s forcing any of you to go,’ said the Major.

‘Someone needs to tell him he’s playing with fire,’ said Shepherd.

‘Let’s see how it plays out,’ said the Major. ‘If he’s right then it could be an intel coup for us. He could ID a lot of local bad guys for us.’

Shepherd wasn’t convinced but knew better than to press his luck with the Major. He walked out of the HQ with Geordie.  Shepherd saw Lex Harper running around the perimeter of the compound with a large rucksack on his back. The young Para had already watched Shepherd’s back while serving as his spotter on a couple of previous ops and Shepherd realised he had the chance to return the favour.

‘He’s keen,’ said Geordie.

‘He’s a good lad,’ said Shepherd. ‘He’s wasted in the Paras. I’m going to suggest he puts himself for Selection when he gets back to the UK.’ He waved over at Lex and the Para sprinted over to them. He’d clearly been running for a while and he leaned forward, hands on his knees, his chest heaving and sweat dripping from his brow into the dust.

‘Sure you’re cut out for this line of work?’ Shepherd said with a grin. ‘Special Forces never sweat.’

‘Is that right?’ Lex said, grinning back. ‘They talk a lot of shite, though. So what’s up?’

‘Todd’s looking for volunteers for a job,’ Shepherd said. ‘Make sure you’re not one of them.’

Lex gave him a curious look. ‘Any particular reason why?’

Shepherd shrugged. ‘We’ve just got a bad feeling about it.’

Geordie hawked and spat. ‘He’s wanting the Paras to take his new Taliban boyfriend up country,’ he growled. ‘And on a good day, they’ll be bringing back another twenty SEPs, Pied Piper style.’

‘And on a bad day?’

‘On a bad day it could all turn to shit,’ said Shepherd. ‘So no volunteering, okay?’

Lex nodded. ‘Okay, got it,’ he said. ‘Thanks. I owe you one.’

‘What’s in the rucksack?’ asked Geordie.

Lex grinned and shrugged the rucksack off his back. It hit the ground with a thud. ‘Just some gear. Dirty laundry, mainly.’

Geordie laughed. ‘Bricks, mate. That’s what you need. Bricks wrapped in newspapers.’

‘That’s a wind-up, right?’ said Lex, looking at Shepherd.

Shepherd grinned. ‘Nah, it’s Gospel,’ he said. ‘Geordie got me into it years ago. You need something heavy, really heavy. That’s what builds muscle and stamina. The harder you train, the easier it is when it’s for real.’ He pointed down at Lex’s dust-covered Nikes. ‘And lose the training shoes. You want to run in boots.’

‘Bloody hell, you want to make it difficult for yourself, don’t you?’ said the Para.

‘That’s the point,’ said Shepherd. ‘Train hard, fight easy. The times in your life when you’ll need to run like the devil are probably the times when you’re not wearing your Nikes.’

Lex nodded.  ‘Thanks,’ he said.

‘And remember – no volunteering.’

* * *

An hour later, Shepherd and Geordie saw a Landrover pull out of the compound.  Two Paras sat in front, with another one alongside Ahmad Khan in the back. There was a Gimpy - a General Purpose Machine Gun - mounted on the bonnet and the three Paras all carried M16s. The Afghan  had his AK74 cradled in his lap.

‘I see Captain Dickhead isn’t with them,’ said Geordie.

‘No back up, either,’ said Shepherd. ‘I tell you, this is going to go tits-up.’

‘You’re preaching to the converted, mate.’

Jock walked over, carrying two green ammo boxes. Shepherd gestured at the disappearing Landrover. ‘No back-up? What’s the story?’

‘Todd reckons the RV with the Taliban fighters is in an area that had been pacified and was largely peaceful, at least by day.  Says one vehicle is all they need.’

‘Bollocks,’ said Jimbo. ‘There are Taliban insurgents everywhere, staging hit and run raids, extorting money and supplies, or assassinating village elders suspected of collaborating with the British and Americans. Where does he come up with “pacified?” The man’s a bloody idiot and he’s going to get people killed.’

‘Are you volunteering to go with them?” asked Jock.

‘It’s too late anyway,’ said Shepherd. The Landrover had just disappeared around a bend in the road.

* * *

According to Jock, it should have taken the Landrover just over ninety minutes to reach the RV. Assuming it would take half an hour to muster the Taliban fighters, and a maximum of two hours to get them back to the compound, they should have returned by two o’clock in the afternoon at the latest.

At one o’clock Shepherd wandered over to the entrance of the compound. Half an hour later he was joined by Lex. ‘No sign?’ asked the Para.

‘We don’t know what transport the Taliban guys have,’ said Shepherd.

‘I don’t suppose they’ll be walking.’

‘Anything on comms?’ asked Shepherd.

‘They said they were approaching the RV but nothing since,’ said Lex. ‘That’s not good, is it?’

‘No, mate. Not good at all.’

The two men paced up and down under the hot Afghan sun. ‘You married, Spider?’ asked the Para.

‘Yeah, why do you ask?’

‘One of the guys was saying you had a wife and kid. But you don’t wear a ring.’

‘Never been a big fan of jewellery,’ said Shepherd. ‘But yeah, I’ve been married for going on five years. And my boy’s four. You?’

‘Nah, had a girlfriend but that went south when I signed up.’

‘Yeah, it’s not easy being involved with a soldier. My wife’s forever nagging me to hand in my papers.’

‘Serious?’

‘Dead serious. She reckons that it’s too dangerous.’

‘Bless her,’ said Lex, and the two men laughed.

‘She’s got a point, though,’ said Shepherd. ‘It was different when I was based in Hereford and could get home most nights. I could help around the house and be a dad for Liam. I’ve missed two of his last birthdays and it’s looking like we’re going to be here over Christmas.’

‘That goes with the job, though,’ said Lex.

‘She’s a Hereford girl so she understands that. But when she married me she had no way of knowing how crazy the world was going to get.’

‘And will you do it? Hand in your papers?’

‘And do what?’ said Shepherd. ‘I’m a soldier, that’s what I do. I can’t go back and work in an office.’ He shrugged. ‘I’ve told her to wait and see how this works out. I can see us being here for ever.’

‘I’m not sure about this,’ said Lex. ‘It’s a right mess here. The Russians couldn’t control this country and I don’t see that we’ll do a better job. And I don’t know about you but I’m getting a bad feeling about Iraq.’

‘In what way?’

‘I think the Yanks want to invade. And if they go in Blair will have us in on Uncle Sam’s coat tails.’

Shepherd smiled ruefully. ‘I hope Sue doesn’t start thinking that way,’ he said.

‘I’m serious, Spider. Since 9-11 the Yanks have been on a mission.’

Shepherd nodded. ‘You might be right.’

Geordie jogged over, his round face bathed in sweat. ‘Boss wants you in the briefing room,’ he said.

‘Problem?’

‘He reckons they’ve been gone long enough. And there’s been nothing on comms for a while.’

‘Can I come?’ asked Lex.

‘Don’t see why not,’ said Shepherd. The three men hurried over to the briefing room where the Major was huddled over a map with Jimbo, Jock and two other SAS troopers. There was no sign of Captain Todd.

The Major looked up. ‘I’m getting a bad feeling about this,’ he said. ‘I’m asking Jock to put together a Quick Reaction Force, a small group with a big punch if it’s needed.’ He nodded at Jock.  ‘Don’t take a heap of men with you though, but you’ll need a Forward Air Controller and a Royal Engineer Search Team, in case of mines or booby traps.  And take a couple of Laser Target Markers.  I’ll make sure there are fast jets with Paveways in the air and in the area the whole time that you’re on the ground.’

‘Okay Boss,‘ Jock said. ‘We might be best with B-52s out of Diego Garcia.  You know what the Bagram jet jockeys are like, they hate being too close to the ground because it puts them within range of the muj SAM-7s. If they’re flying low and one of them is launched, they’ve got to go on the tail and race the missile up to 15,000 feet, hoping it’ll run out of fuel before it blows their arseholes out through their nostrils. The B 52s’ll just cruise out of sight, well above the SAM-7’s height ceiling, and if we get an LTM on a target, they can just drop the iron bomb and let the laser detector on the Paveway’s nose and the fins on its tail do the rest.’ 

‘Okay,’ the Boss said. ‘And I want you to take Todd with you. He caused this fuck-up.  Make sure that he sees the consequences of his pig-headedness and learns from it’. He looked at his watch. ‘Let’s get moving.’

The SAS troopers headed out of the briefing room. ‘Spider, can I tag along?’ asked Lex.

‘Is that okay with you, Jock?’ asked Shepherd.

‘Better than okay,’ growled Jock. ‘In fact he can bring half a dozen or so of his mates. I’ll get a one-tonner sorted.’

‘Off you go, mate,’ said Shepherd. ‘We’ll clear it with your boss. As much firepower as you can carry.’

Lex nodded and ran off.

‘Right Spider, we’ve got work to do,’ said Jock, patting him on the back.

* * *

  With sunset less than three hours away, Jock led a convoy of three SAS Landrovers and a one-tonner full of Paras and Engineers out of the compound to search for the missing men, though only the most optimistic of them expected to find the three Paras alive. They were armed with Gimpies, assault rifles and grenade launchers.

Shepherd sat next to Jock and Captain Todd sat in the back. The officer didn’t speak during the drive over the rough and shell-cratered road towards the mountains.

The place where Ahmad Khan had taken the Paras to RV with his Taliban fighters was a dead-end valley with steep-sided hills surrounding it. Jock called the convoy to a halt near the valley entrance, where the road narrowed to little more than a dirt track running alongside the bed of a dried up river.  He ordered four of the Paras to set up a perimeter around the vehicles then gathered the SAS and the rest of the Paras around him. ‘Right,’ he said. ‘It’s been the same old story in Afghan warfare since Adam was a lad: whoever controls the high ground controls the battle. So, two groups of four - Jimbo, you take one, Geordie the other - one either side of the valley, picketing the high ground. Spider, you stay with me. Each group, carry an LTM. We’ve no mortars, unfortunately - too heavy for this job - but we’ve got all the air support we need, so if there are muj heavy weapons or concentrations of fighters up there, get an LTM on them and we’ll call in the cavalry. We’ll give you thirty minutes to get into position and then we’ll begin moving up the valley floor at 1520.’

The two groups formed and moved off,  Jimbo and Geordie leading the way, Geordie’s short steps contrasting with Jimbo’s rangy, ground-eating stride, but both men covered the ground equally fast, moving up the sides of the valley as smoothly as if they were on an escalator.

The rest of the men waited on the valley floor with Jock and Shepherd.  Shepherd walked over to the Forward Air Controller. ‘Keep the jets high,’ Shepherd said. ‘Out of sight and sound. We don’t want to spoil the surprise for any muj who might be here, now do we?’

Todd appeared at his elbow. ‘The REs look jumpy,’ he said.

Shepherd looked across at the engineers, huddled in a group near the back of the one-tonner.  They looked painfully young, white-faced and twitchy with nerves.  ‘Not surprising, is it?’ he said. ‘They’re the poor saps who have to find the devices before the Bomb Disposal guys can deal with them.  Wherever they’re serving, none of them last more than a couple of tours.  Once they realise the risks, they leave the Army PDQ, or at least those of them who are still alive do. Worst job in the army, pretty much.’

He glanced at his watch and spoke into his throat mic. ‘In position?’ There was a double click in his ear-piece, followed a moment later by another as Jimbo and Geordie acknowledged.

‘They’re ready, Jock,’ said Shepherd. Jock nodded and signalled to the others to move out and began to lead the advance along the road, his gaze never still, raking the road ahead and the ground to either side.  Todd followed a couple of paces behind Shepherd. They had been moving forward slowly but steadily for some twenty minutes when they cleared a low rise and saw the Landrover some way ahead of them, nose down in a ditch at the side of the road. Two figures were visible, still in their seats, though both sprawled at odd angles. Another lay in the dirt a yard or so away. Shepherd felt a surge of anger and wanted to lash out at once at the officer who had sent them to their deaths, but there was no time for recriminations - they were all in danger until the job was done. He tried to put the cold focus of his anger on the enemy, not the man behind him.