Death in the Desert (9 page)

Through his pain Mitch heard a warning shout in Pushtu from Omari, followed by another voice responding.

Mitch struggled to sit up. Omari was talking urgently to the man in the cell. This man was older but very large, tall and muscular, with a long beard and matted clothes. His face was bruised and bore the marks of recent beatings. There was no doubt that this was Azma Al Haq. As Mitch shook his head to try to clear the fog from his brain, he saw Al Haq and Omari slip out of the cell, and then reappear a second later dragging the body of the other guard.

‘This is my uncle, Azma Al Haq,’ Omari said.

‘I guessed that,’ muttered Mitch. He rubbed the
back of his neck. ‘He packs a hell of a punch.’

‘Usually the guards point their rifles and make him stand against the far wall before they enter the cell,’ explained Omari. ‘When he saw you come in the way you did, he thought it was an opportunity to escape. He is sorry if he hurt you.’

‘Apology accepted,’ grunted Mitch. He pushed himself to his feet and Al Haq came over to Mitch and bowed his head, placing his hand on his heart at the same time in greeting. Mitch did the same, even though bowing his head made his neck hurt even more. Then Al Haq picked up the rifles the guards had dropped. He slung one over his shoulder and hefted the other in his arms, ready for action.

‘Does he have a plan?’ asked Mitch.

‘He says he is going to kill Arun.’

Mitch frowned. ‘I thought you said that wasn’t a good thing,’ he pointed out.

‘I did. But Arun seems to have been doing some very bad things to those of my uncle’s
people who wouldn’t support him.’

Suddenly they heard the muffled sound of automatic gunfire.

‘Sounds like the others have met resistance,’ said Mitch.

Al Haq shouted something in Pushtu, and rushed out of the cell door, cocking the rifle as he did so.

‘Does he know he’s not supposed to be shooting at our guys?’ asked Mitch, concerned.

‘I hope so,’ replied Omari.

‘Then let’s go with him and make sure he doesn’t,’ said Mitch firmly.

On the level above, Nelson, Tug, Two Moons and Gaz were trapped. They had managed to ambush two tribesmen and take their guns, so now each man was armed, but on their way to the meeting room where they had first seen Arun, they’d been spotted.

‘We should’ve taken the clothes off those guys and put them on,’ Two Moons said.

‘Hindsight is a wonderful thing, Two Moons,’ said Nelson sarcastically as he poured lead at the armed men who had them cornered.

The gunfire had drawn even more Taliban fighters to the scene. The four men of Delta Unit were bottled up, the attack coming from both sides of the tunnel, and more Taliban arriving.

Gaz had kept up a steady stream of fire, keeping the enemy at bay, but suddenly his rifle stopped chattering. ‘I’m out of ammo!’ he shouted to the others.

Tug shook his head. ‘I’m nearly out as well,’ he called back.

Gaz could only watch helplessly as Nelson, Two Moons and Tug continued firing. Then Tug’s rifle stopped.

‘Guess it’s just you and me, Colonel,’ said Two Moons.

‘OK, let’s save ammo,’ said Nelson. ‘You aim left, Two Moons, I’ll aim right.’ He peered cautiously round. More Taliban had come out of cover now,
and were edging along the tunnel towards them from both directions.

‘Go!’ Nelson and Two Moons levelled their rifles and began firing, causing the Taliban fighters at the front to crumple to the ground. The men behind them stumbled. Some managed to turn and run; others fell on to the bodies of their comrades in the hail of bullets.

And then Two Moons’ rifle stopped.

Two Moons turned to Nelson with an expression of weary resignation. ‘Sorry, Colonel,’ he said. ‘I’m out as well.’

‘Then I’ll make sure every shot counts,’ said Nelson. He fired again, and another Taliban fighter crashed to the ground.

‘How much ammo do you think you’ve got left?’ asked Tug.

The hammer of Nelson’s rifle struck a hollow sound as he pulled the trigger, and the empty click made them all feel sick to their stomachs.

‘Guess that was the end,’ said Nelson. ‘OK, boys, from here on it’s hand to hand combat.’

‘That would work if they came close enough,’ said Gaz. ‘But they’ll just keep shooting us from a distance.’

They heard another burst of gunfire from the Taliban lines, but to their surprise none of the bullets came near them. Then came angry shouting in Pushtu and more gunfire from further down the tunnel.

‘What’s going on?’ demanded Nelson.

‘It seems Al Haq has arrived,’ Tug responded, his eyes widening.

The shouting continued and then the men heard Mitch’s voice calling, ‘Guys! Come out! It’s clear!’

‘You sure of that?’ called back Two Moons.

‘Al Haq has given his word!’ Omari called to them.

‘OK,’ said Nelson. ‘Let’s do as the man says.’

They stepped out, holding their empty rifles. The Taliban were still armed, their rifles pointing threateningly at the men of Delta Unit, but a booming voice from the back of the crowd issued an order, and the men lowered their rifles. Then Omari and Mitch appeared, flanking Al Haq. There was no mistaking his power. He pushed his way roughly through the Taliban fighters, shouting at them as he did so.

‘If this is Al Haq, he’s one angry dude,’ muttered Two Moons.

Omari and Mitch joined them. ‘My uncle, Azma
Al Haq,’ said Omari.

‘Just in the nick of time,’ said Tug.

Gaz frowned. ‘How come one man gets all these guys to stop firing?’ he asked, puzzled.

‘Because he is Azma Al Haq, the warlord, and he is free once more to rule these men,’ said Omari. ‘He has just told them if they resist him they will die.’

Al Haq was now addressing his men in fierce tones, stabbing his fingers in the direction of the tunnel. Mitch picked up the words ‘Arun’ and ‘Majid’, spat out like distasteful swear words. He didn’t need Tug or Omari to translate for him to know that Al Haq was giving orders to take back the headquarters from his rebellious sons.

‘If we’re going to help, we need ammo,’ Nelson told Omari.

Omari said something to Al Haq, who nodded and pointed at the armed men nearest him. These men obediently took their ammunition belts off and passed them to the Delta Unit soldiers.

‘OK,’ Nelson nodded to Omari. ‘I see what you mean about your uncle. If anyone can persuade your people to talk, it’s him.’

Al Haq shouted a command and then rushed down the tunnel. The other men yelled equally loudly, and hurried after him, brandishing their rifles.

‘Guess that’s our signal as well,’ muttered Nelson.

The soldiers ran behind, reloading their rifles as they did so. Suddenly they heard firing ahead, and the crowd of men stopped and scattered to both sides of the tunnel. They all dived for what little cover there was. ‘What’s going on?’ Nelson asked Omari.

‘The men round that corner are Arun’s hardline supporters,’ said Omari. ‘They only follow Arun.’

‘Is there any other way to get to them?’ asked Mitch.

Omari spoke to Al Haq, who called one of his men over. He spoke rapidly and the man nodded, and then gestured towards the soldiers.

‘He’s saying he will lead you to another tunnel,’ translated Omari.

‘Yes, I got that,’ nodded Tug. To Nelson, he said, ‘I suggest I go with him, Colonel.’

‘Right,’ nodded Nelson. ‘Take Mitch, Gaz and Two Moons with you. I’ll stay here with Omari and Al Haq.’ He gave a wry smile. ‘Protecting them is our mission, after all.’

The four soldiers set off at a run, following the tribesman down the tunnel away from the action, until they came to an abrupt halt. The tribesman gestured towards a narrow slit in one of the walls, and then slid through the opening.

‘Think we can squeeze through there?’ asked Two Moons, looking at the gap suspiciously.

‘No problem,’ said Gaz. He pushed his way through the opening. Tug was next, then Mitch, then Two Moons. They were in a very narrow, low tunnel, not much wider than a sewer pipe. Following the tribesman, they crawled along, aware of the sounds of gunfire through the rock.

‘We’re getting near,’ said Tug.

Finally the tunnel ended, and they spilled out into a larger space. The sound of shooting now came from their right, round a bend in the rocky walls.

‘Guess we’re on the other side of Arun’s men,’ said Tug. ‘Let’s go get ’em.’

They crept cautiously towards the corner, rifles ready, fingers on triggers. Tug peered round and then leapt out into the tunnel, automatic rifle blazing. Mitch, Gaz and Two Moons followed, pouring hot lead at Arun’s men.

Gunfire came back from the other end of the tunnel and the four Delta Unit soldiers had to scramble back to avoid being hit.

Using the bend as cover, the soldiers and the tribesman kept up a steady stream of fire, while Nelson and Al Haq’s supporters continued their assault from the other side. Finally the firing from Arun’s men stopped and a frantic cry of appeal was heard.

‘Yes! They’re surrendering!’ cried Tug.

‘What will happen to them?’ asked Gaz.

‘I’m guessing Al Haq will be merciful,’ said Tug. ‘It’s Arun and Majid he’s really after.’

The soldiers moved forwards cautiously, rifles levelled, aware that it could be a trick. But Arun’s men were standing with their hands in the air, their rifles on the ground.

Al Haq, Nelson and Omari were coming from the other direction, the men behind them shouting in triumph. Al Haq approached one of Arun’s men and spoke to him in Pushtu. As the man replied, Al Haq let out a roar of rage.

‘Arun and Majid have gone,’ said Tug. ‘They ran off after the shooting started. They must have guessed how this would end up.’

Suddenly Mitch heard a rumbling sound up the tunnel, near to the entrance. ‘An engine!’ he said urgently. ‘Someone’s getting away!’

‘Arun and Majid!’ yelled Two Moons.

Mitch was already running up the tunnel and Two Moons, Gaz and Tug followed close behind him.
Al Haq had obviously realised what was going on because he began to run after the men, but Nelson grabbed him and pulled him back.

‘Tell him we need him to stay safe!’ he shouted at Omari, and Omari translated. Al Haq hesitated, then nodded and turned back to Nelson and clapped him on the shoulder.

‘OK, guys!’ Nelson yelled after the others. ‘Finish this!’

Mitch broke out of the entrance to the caves and into the daylight just in time to see the two Land Rovers racing off. He looked around and saw the battered vehicle that had led them to the tunnels. He jumped in. The key was still in the ignition. He fired up the vehicle, just as the doors opened and Two Moons, Gaz and Tug scrambled into it.

‘Go!’ yelled Two Moons.

Mitch slammed the car into first and it leapt forwards, skidding. Mitch fought to steer it back into a straight line. Then the car was racing along, bouncing and crunching over the rocky, unmade road. He floored the accelerator, and they were soon gaining on the nearest Land Rover.

Two Moons pushed himself out through the open
window of the passenger door, hanging on to the roof with one hand, and pointing his rifle at the Land Rover with the other. A hail of bullets smashed into the 4x4, taking out the wing mirrors. Two Moons kept firing and the vehicle suddenly veered off the road and ploughed into a rock, sending up clouds of dust and smoke.

‘Next one!’ yelled Two Moons.

Mitch kept his foot down hard on the accelerator, pushing the battered car as fast as it would go. Two Moons began firing again but the driver of the second Land Rover knew what he was doing. The vehicle suddenly swerved to the left and a rifle barrel appeared from one of the side windows, letting off a burst. Two Moons gave a yell of pain and fell backwards, out through the window. Tug and Gaz turned and saw Two Moons roll on the dusty ground and then lie still. Gaz pushed his rifle out through the open rear window on his side, then followed it with his body, taking over from Two Moons. Tug did the same on the other side. With the car
bouncing over the rocks, their aim was erratic; some of their bullets struck the Land Rover, some missed by miles.

Again, a rifle appeared at the window of the 4x4 and began firing at them; this time Gaz gave a cry and slid back down into the back seat, blood staining his shirt at the shoulder.

Tug fired again and his tracer of bullets tore into the rear wheels of the Land Rover, shredding the rubber. The vehicle lurched as the tyres burst, then it slid off the road and hit a rock. The two soldiers watched it bounce and then flip over, crashing on to its roof. Mitch screeched to a halt and he and Tug leapt out and brought their guns to bear on the overturned vehicle, bullets peppering the 4x4, shattering glass and tearing metal off the body.

One of the doors sprang open and a man crawled out, his clothes covered in blood. He called out something and held up an arm. ‘It’s Arun!’ shouted Tug. ‘He’s surrendering!’

Mitch stopped firing, and Arun pulled himself to
his knees. Tug shouted something at him in Pushtu and Arun brought up one arm and put his hand on his head. His other dangled uselessly by his side. It was obviously broken. Gaz kicked open the door of the vehicle and stumbled out, his rifle cradled in his one good arm. Blood was still seeping through his uniform where he had been hit high in the shoulder.

‘I’m going to see how Two Moons is,’ said Mitch, and he broke into a sprint back the way they had come. As he neared the other wrecked Land Rover he saw that Two Moons was still lying on the ground in the same position.

Please don’t let him be dead, Mitch prayed as he ran. Not Two Moons.

That’s our trouble, Mitch thought. We think we’re invincible. We go in against everything the enemy throws at us and think, it won’t be me who dies, it’ll be someone else. And then one day a stray bullet ends it. And the friend who was closer than a brother suddenly isn’t there any more. Wiped out.

The big Sioux Indian was lying prone and still,
arms flung out, his fallen weapon near him. His face was a mess of blood. ‘Wake up, you bastard!’ shouted Mitch desperately. ‘Wake up!’

Time seemed to stand still as Mitch fell to his knees next to his friend. Tears blurred his vision and he bit at his lip to stop them.

Mitch reached out and put his fingers to Two Moon’s neck, checking for a pulse. As he did so he noticed Two Moons’ leg move. He’s alive! Mitch thought. Thank God!

The Sioux groaned, and then his eyes opened and he looked at Mitch, dazed.

‘What happened?’ he asked.

‘You fell out of the car,’ said Mitch. ‘We thought you were a gonner. You OK?’

Two Moons felt his body: legs, arms, neck. Then examined himself for wounds.

‘There’s blood on your face,’ Mitch told him. ‘Guess a bullet must have creased your skull.’

‘It’s lucky I’ve got a hard head,’ muttered Two Moons.

With Mitch’s help he staggered to his feet and looked at the wrecked Land Rover nearby. ‘Anyone alive in there?’ he asked.

Mitch levelled his rifle at the vehicle and approached it cautiously. There were two men in the front seat, both leaning forwards with their heads on the dashboard. The doors had sprung open with the impact. He prodded the one behind the steering wheel with the barrel of his rifle. The man didn’t respond. Carefully, in case it was a trick, Mitch reached in and felt for a pulse. Nothing. ‘This one’s dead,’ he said.

Suddenly the man in the passenger seat let out a groan and stirred. ‘The other one is still with us,’ added Mitch. ‘But he’s not in any state to fight back now.’

He stepped back, keeping his rifle aimed. ‘Guess we pulled it off,’ he said.