A Soldier's Story (3 page)

       Jay tried to still his hammering heart. Darren in danger, or perhaps even…dead, it didn't bear thinking about. He tried to speak but couldn't. Took a swig from a bottle of Scotch and managed to mutter into the phone.

       "I'll be on the first plane back, sir."

       "We've had search parties out around the clock." Beaumont looked exhausted, his office in upheaval. He ran a hand over his cropped grey hair. "But nothing. Not a sign of them."

       "It doesn't make sense, sir." Jay shook his head. "How could an armoured vehicle with six men, suddenly disappear without a trace. It would be impossible to ambush and hijack it quietly. They were in constant radio contact."

       Beaumont nodded. "Even if it had been taken out by a huge explosion," he started and waved his arms in the air. "Boom! There would have been debris all over the place. But one of our vehicles that travelled the same road no more than half an hour later saw nothing suspicious. And we've been over every inch of it since, with a fine tooth comb."

       "It almost makes a case for alien abduction," Jay mused, only half in jest.

       "Mais oui, and can you imagine the circus when the media gets a hold of it…oh mon dieu."

       "What did you want me to do, sir?" Jay felt helpless. It seemed that everything that could be done had already been taken care of. Yet he wanted to be here. It made him feel closer to Darren. He had no intention of leaving until this perplexing mystery was solved, one way or another. He couldn't desert the man he cared so deeply about in what must be his hour of greatest need. If he's still alive. The little voice would not be silent.

       Beaumont shrugged. "You knew the men in that squad, travelled the same road with them so many times. Go over all the old ground already covered. You might notice something…remember something, perhaps, that those not so familiar with it would miss."

       Jay nodded. "Very good, sir. I'll do everything I can."

~ * ~

       The desert sun beat down like a fire breathing dragon on the rough broken road. Jay got out of the armoured vehicle at the last place of contact with the missing patrol, nothing…just desert for miles in every direction and the mountains looming on the horizon.

       "What do you suppose happened to them, sir? the driver asked.

       Jay shook his head. "I'm damned if I know." But determined not to leave any stone unturned, he led a foot patrol on as much ground as they could cover before darkness fell.

       Nothing.

       Back at the barracks he delved through the personnel records of the missing soldiers.

       "What are you hoping to find?" Beaumont stood in the doorway, smoking a cigar.

       "I'm not sure…something, anything that might shed a light on what happened, I suppose."

       "You think one of them might be a mole?" Beaumont looked incredulous. "In league with the enemy."

       Jay shrugged. "I know it sounds outrageous, sir. But so is a patrol suddenly disappearing into thin air."

       "But you knew all the men, personally."

       "All except Daniel Portman, the officer in charge."

       "Ah yes, your successor." Beaumont looked thoughtful. "He came to us recently from Kandahar. Well you can see his record for yourself."

       Jay nodded. "It's looks exemplary. He's been in Afghanistan for months. Knows the routine and the terrain."

        "We'd hardly have appointed a novice to succeed you." Beaumont relit his cigar.

       "I'd still like to interview anyone who knew him, personally." Jay stuffed the files back in the cabinet. Perhaps it was just a desperate clutching at straws, but he had a persistent feeling that Portman––the new kid on the block, the wild card in the deck, so to speak––held the key to the whole crazy business. Besides he had to keep busy trying to solve the puzzle and the present whereabouts of the missing patrol. It was the only way he could keep the soul-destroying worry over Darren at bay…or try to.

~ * ~

Jay watched Canadian troops play street hockey at the

Kandahar NATO base. He marvelled at their resiliency to the heat, which still sweltered at 110 degrees at night.

       "I've been here for years and it's growing all the time," said the Corporal assigned as his guide. "There are now thousands of troops stationed here, from more than a dozen countries."

       "A walled multicultural military city."

       "Yes sir, and we have the ethnic restaurants to prove it."

       "Speaking of which, it's time to eat." Jay turned and headed towards the boardwalk. Built in the middle of the base it had a wooden awning, which provided some much needed coolness. "How about pizza?"

       Once inside the Pizza Hut they could have been anywhere in the world. It felt comfortingly familiar.

       "I have a few more guys lined up for you to see at 1900, sir."

       "Good," Jay nodded and took a swig at his Coke. He didn't know what he was looking for exactly, just something out of the ordinary and therefore suspicious, he supposed.

       But so far he'd come up empty. Daniel Portman appeared to have been efficient and fairly well liked. "He didn't play favourites," one soldier had commented.

       Not like you would with Darren. The little voice couldn't be expected to miss a chance like that.

~ * ~

       Jay packed his overnight bag and left it on the floor beside the bed. He'd leave in the morning. From his window he watched the lights of the airfield blink in the darkness. He felt disappointed. Frustrated that his fact-finding mission on Portman, had come up with nothing.

       He'd been in constant communication with Beaumont. The chance of a ransom demand coming in, if the patrol had somehow been hijacked, was to be expected. But so far, nothing. He didn't know whether to feel relieved, or more anxious.

       If the soldiers had been kidnapped, his fear for Darren was that much more urgent. Nightmares about other Westerners beheaded in front of video cameras were never far from his mind.

       He lit a cigarette and went down to the officer's mess. It would be impossible to sleep with his mind in such turmoil. He needed a nightcap. In fact, he needed several. But while in theatre, Canadian soldiers were not permitted to consume alcohol. A cup of very strong coffee would have to suffice.

       Apart from a small group at a corner table, the place was deserted. The waiter, who wore sergeant's stripes, took his order. "I understand, sir, that you're looking for anyone who knew Lieutenant Portman," he said.

       "That's right." Jay sipped at the bitter coffee. "And believe me, I've spoken to just about everyone who did."

       "Look, I heard what happened with the patrol." He leaned forward conspiratorially, while drying a cup. "I don't really know if this ties in with any of it or not…" He hesitated and looked uncertain whether or not to continue.

       "Go on," Jay encouraged. "If you think you know something even remotely significant, it could be the break we're looking for."

       "Well, Lieutenant Portman came in here often and got quite talkative. We'd chat about the War on Terror, and that sort of thing."

       Jay nodded, and drained his cup.

       "Now here's the thing. He was absolutely convinced he knew where Bin Laden was hiding."

       Jay laughed. "So does just about everyone else around here. Theories abound."

       "Yeah, I know that, but with Portman it went a step further. He had a plan in place to go there and flush him out. He was totally obsessed with the idea."

       "So you think he may have been in pursuit, and the patrol got high jacked?"

       "It's possible, sir."

       Jay felt the first spurt of optimism in days. "Did he ever say where he thought this hideout was?"

       "No, sorry. Just that it was in a bunch of caves."

       Well heck that was a good start, at least. Just find out the direction of the caves from where the patrol went missing.

       "Thank you, sergeant." Jay shook his hand. "You've been a great help, and I won't forget it."

~ * ~

       "So you think Portman went careening off in a search for Bin Laden?" To say Beaumont looked sceptical would be an understatement. He delved through a stack of files on his untidy desk, while chewing on an unlit cigar.

       "I believe it's possible, sir," Jay answered cautiously. "Besides, it's the only lead we have."

       "That's still no call to go flying off on some wild goose chase."

       "No sir, I agree, it isn't. But I would like to try." He struggled for control. "We owe it to the missing men."

       Beaumont looked exasperated. "Oh very well, then," he finally relented. "But I want you to keep in constant touch with me throughout. Is that understood?"

       "Understood, sir. You won't be disappointed."

       "I'll be the judge of that, Captain."

       Captain? It took a moment to sink in. Oh of course, with all the turmoil of the last few days he'd clean forgotten. The promotion, it must have come through.

       Beaumont smiled. "Congratulations, Jay."

~ * ~

       "Over there, sir." The corporal pointed to a stand of brush. Jay peered out of the armoured vehicle. They'd left the main road about an hour ago, and followed in the direction the missing patrol would have gone, if headed for the caves. "It looks like there's something behind it."

       "You're right." Jay could scarcely conceal his excitement. "It looks like we've found the missing vehicle." But would there be anyone in it? What story would it tell?

       He jumped out, and cautiously investigated. It could have been booby-trapped.

       "There's no one in it," the sergeant called out. "And it doesn't look damaged in any way."

       Jay nodded and opened the driver's door. Everything was intact. No sign of a struggle of any kind. "Judging by this, we can assume the squad left it willingly, without any duress," he said.

       The sergeant checked under the hood. "Looks fine." The ignition key was missing, but he crossed the wires, and the engine roared into life. "So they didn't abandon it because it broke down," he said.

       "They must have been making for the caves." Jay felt confident now that the theory about Porter hunting down Bin Laden was right.

       "Yep, this is about as far as a vehicle could go."

       God, what kind of crazy man would lead his squad on such a hazardous and foolish mission?

       He would like to have pressed on to the caves, but darkness had already descended. It happened very quickly in the desert, catching the unwary by surprise. "We'll camp here for the night," he said. "And get an early start at first light."

~ * ~

        The Hirabad caves, hacked out of a mountainside, numbered in the hundreds. Jay squinted up at the entrances. Once home to terrorists and squatters, they had been abandoned when a NATO led force blew up as much of them as they could. It was always possible, of course, that some of the erstwhile tenants had moved back in.

       "We could call out through the megaphone," the sergeant suggested. "If they're in there––providing they're still alive, of course––there's a good chance, they'd hear us."

       "But we don't know who else is in there and who would also hear us," Jay said. "Let's wait until the reinforcements arrive."

       Beaumont had been incredulous when he'd radioed him about finding the missing vehicle. "They must have got lost or hurt in those friggin' caves," he said. "If Portman is still alive when we get to him, he'll wish that he wasn't."

       Despite himself, all Jay could think of was Darren. Now that he was so close to the truth about what had happened––damn Porter, damn him to hell––the seriousness of the situation became ever more apparent. The tall fair-haired Adonis, with the hard tanned body and unforgettable green eyes, was either trapped or dead. Oh God.

       The roar of engines jolted him out of his moroseness. Helicopters buzzed overhead and a long line of combat vehicles appeared on the horizon. Beaumont hadn't stinted. Of course, he was as anxious as himself to find the missing squadron, if for slightly different reasons.

       The assault on the mountain face, pockmarked with cave entrances, began at noon. Troops crawled through the narrow spaces and ever wary about lurking terrorists, called out cautiously for the missing men.

       "Darren, can you hear me?" Jay struggled through a honeycomb of crude compartments, thick with rubble. Nothing.

       "They could have been caught in a landslide," the sergeant suggested. "The terrorists may have booby trapped some of this too."