Kill Zone (A Spider Shepherd Short Story) (2 page)

‘And I’m
certainly not going to be volunteering to ride off into the middle of nowhere
with this Ahmad Kahn,’ said Jock. ‘No matter who vouches for him.’

The Captain
glanced at the Major for support again.
 
‘Ahmad Khan has already proved his worth by identifying a previously
unknown Taliban commander,’ said Todd. ‘B Squadron are dealing with him.’

‘If he’s
previously unknown, we’ve only the SEP’s word that the guy really is a Taliban
commander,’ said Jock. ‘He could just be some local warlord or the leader of a
rival faction that he wants to get rid of. And even if the SEP’s men seriously
do want to switch sides, why would we take the risk of providing them with an
escort, when they could just come in themselves?’

‘Because they’re
afraid that they’ll be walking into an ambush,’ Todd said.

Jock shrugged.
‘The same fear that we’d have about going to an RV in the mountains with them,
then. I’ve not heard anything to change my mind.’ There was a rumble of
agreement from the other SAS men.
 
Jock was one of the most experienced men in the Squadron and one of the
most highly-regarded.

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.’