PRIMAL Unleashed (2) (16 page)

“Thank you,” Saneh said as she pocketed the paper. “Now, what else have you got?”

“Ah, ah, I couldn’t really find the answers you’re looking for,” he said with a stutter.

“That’s OK, Anton, just tell me what you know.”

“Well, he’s doing something big: always away these days,” Anton started.

“Yes?”

“Been going to Odessa. He’s got a place there,” he continued.

“A place?”

“Yeah. I’ve never been there, but it must be important. Everyone’s afraid to talk about it.”

“Afraid?”

“Yes,” he said softly.

“What kind of place is it?”

Anton looked away, staring at the passing traffic as they drove through Kiev’s quiet back streets. “I don’t know. Ah, it is hard for me to ask these questions. If Dostiger finds out, he won’t just kill me. He’ll fucking torture me.”

“Come on, Anton, he’s not going to torture you,” Saneh said.

“Yes, yes he will! He’s got a special room for it at the Club. I’m serious. If he finds out, then I’m fucked.”

“I understand,” Saneh said, “but if you hear anything more, you’ll be sure to let me know, won’t you?”

“I’ll try,” the big Ukrainian muttered.

Saneh pulled out a wad of cash, throwing it onto his lap.

His eyes lit up as he pocketed the money. “Yes, thank you, thank you. I’ll try my best.”

Saneh tapped her driver on the shoulder before looking back at her source. “I’ve included a bonus in that payment. You’ve done well, Anton. You’re a good man, better than Dostiger realizes. If you were Iranian I’d recruit you in an instant!”

“Ah thanks.” The man’s rough face turned bright red.

“Now we won’t meet again for a while, but you have my number. As soon as you know anything more about Odessa, be sure to give me a call.”

“OK, thanks,” he replied as the sedan pulled up to the kerb. With a nod, he opened the car door and stepped out into the cold.

Chapter 27

Khod Valley

Ice had no doubt that when man finally set foot on Mars, it would look a lot like the mountains of Afghanistan. He and Mirza had been on the move for two hours and they were yet to see even the slightest sign of life. Not a blade of grass, not a lizard or a bug, nothing!

Ice was on point, resting next to a large boulder, his tan robes blending into the dirt and rocks. His pale blue eyes continued to scan the terrain as his lungs fought for air. He looked back over his shoulder at Mirza climbing the steep track. The hardy Indian didn’t seem to be noticing the effects of the thin air.

Reaching into his equipment vest, Ice pulled out a map and studied it intently. Despite having his iPRIMAL strapped to his arm, he still carried the paper version. Old habits died hard.

In the two hours since inserting, they had only covered a kilometer of lateral distance. Looking at the contour lines on the map, Ice estimated they had climbed at least three hundred meters in altitude. He checked back down the slope to the insertion zone where they had buried their parachutes and confirmed it against the GPS built into the iPRIMAL.

“How are we doing?” Mirza asked, crouching next to him.

“Not bad, buddy. Some of us better than others.” He laughed, still breathing heavily. “You must be used to this shit?”

“Yes, it is a lot like home.” The thin mountain air reminded Mirza of his birthplace in the Kashmir ranges.

Ice placed the map on the ground between them and used the point of his combat knife to show Mirza their position on the side of the ridge line. “We’re going to keep following it up here,” he explained, pointing to the mountain at the top of the ridge. “I‘d wager our Taliban buddies are over here somewhere.” He pointed at another ridge that paralleled their own. It also sloped up towards the mountain. “The Stryker patrol got ambushed down here.” The knife point buried itself slightly in the map’s plastic coating as Ice tapped the valley between the two ridges.

“So if we stay this side they won’t be able to see us,” Mirza said.

“Yep, that’s the plan. We can pop up to the top and have a bit of a sneaky peek but I agree we should travel just off the actual ridge.” Ice began folding the map. “Once we get closer to the excavation site, we’ll have to be even more careful. God knows how many of the bastards are up there.”

Mirza glanced up at the cloudless sky. “It would be nice to have air support back.”

“Tell me about it.” Ice glanced at his watch. “Still at least another three hours away.”

Both men were interrupted by a pinging noise in their earpieces. Ice checked his iPRIMAL. Using his fingers to navigate through the menus on the touch screen, he accessed the live feed being bounced from the UAV flying high above them. Although it was being flown by an operator in the Bunker on Lascar Island, Ice was directing its actions through a simple chat tool.

So far the small craft had located the ambush site but had not reported anything else of value. The pilot had just transmitted a short message:

Nil targets found. Moving North.

Ice confirmed the move with a few taps on the screen. He looked across at Mirza who was watching on his own system. “Thought we would have located something by now. Hope we’re not chasing our tails up here.”

Mirza nodded in agreement. 

Another beep emitted from Ice’s earpiece announcing an incoming call over the satellite radio built into the combat communicator. “Ice, this is Bunker, over.”

Ice recognized Chua’s voice and replied, “Ice here, go ahead, Bunker.”

“Be aware I’m picking up radio transmissions from a US Special Forces call sign about two clicks to your South.”

“Damn. The last thing we need is some Green Berets getting themselves into the shit,”
radioed Ice. “They could FUBAR the whole show.
Go on.”

“Call sign Texas 1-3 is just short of the ambush location. They keep trying to raise their headquarters so I’m guessing their comms are being jammed,” Chua said.

“So how the hell’re you gettin' em?”

“Same way I’m talking to you. We’re using the satellite receiver on the UAV to boost the signal.”

“Does that mean if we lose the UAV, we lose comms to you?” Ice asked.

“No. We can do the same thing with the Pain Train.”

“OK, so what do we know about Texas 1-3?”

“Not much. I’m going to push Sentinel down to have a look. You OK with that?” Sentinel was the UAV’s call sign.

“No problem. They running any air cover?”

“Negative. All coalition air support is tied up down south.” PRIMAL HQ was still monitoring the situation in Southern Afghanistan and the Taliban offensive had not yet subsided; if anything, it had gained in intensity.

“Roger. Gimme a bell when you get something more.”

“Affirm. Bunker out.” Chua ended the transmission.

Ice turned to Mirza. “We gotta move fast, buddy. Those SF guys could be in a world of hurt.”

Chapter 28

Khod Valley

Unfortunately for Texas 1-3, Ice was not the only one in the valley aware of their presence. Ishmail Khalid and one of his men had moved a kilometer down from their new ambush position to watch for the approaching Americans and their Afghan allies. Khan had told them they were coming but Khalid wanted to see for himself.

The two Taliban warriors lay behind a rocky outcrop, watching the dust cloud from the approaching vehicles as they moved up the valley below. Khalid had his sniper rifle resting on its bipod and was peering through the high-powered scope. As the convoy neared the location where he had destroyed their comrades, Khalid rolled to one side, taking a satellite phone from his chest rig. Khan picked up on the second ring.

“Khan, it’s Ishmail.” He spoke in the hushed tones instinctive to soldiers in the field.

“Allah be with you, my son. Can you see them?” the warlord asked.

“Yes, your friends were right. They’re definitely Americans. Three of their Humvees and another four trucks.”

“How many men?”

“Maybe ten Americans and another fifty Afghans.”

“Afghans?”

“Yes, Afghan Army,” Khalid explained.

“Traitors. Can you kill them all?”

“I can try, but once we’ve killed the Humvees, the traitors will flee,” Khalid said.

“I will send more men if you need them.”

“No, our positions are well prepared and any more fighters would give them away. I have enough men.”

“Allah willing, Khalid, but I will keep the other fighters in reserve. How long until the Americans reach you?”

“One hour, maybe two. I think they will be cautious once they reach the ambush site. Maybe they will push the traitors forward on foot.”

“Have you seen any more of the spy planes?” Khan asked.

“No, but if it returns, we will destroy it.”

“Only after you kill the Americans If you shoot first, it could bring bombers.”

“Understood. How much time do we need?”

“Twenty-four hours, then we can return to our own valley.” Khan was not happy to be so far from his own base of power in the North.

“Good, good. I’m having fun but I miss my wives.” Khalid was in his element; he could smell more blood but he was ready to leave.

“Not long now, my son.”

“I will call you once it is done. Allah's will.”

“Allah’s will,” replied Khan, ending the conversation.

Khalid put the phone back in his vest and grasped the stock of the sniper rifle, tucking it back into his shoulder. Although the approaching enemy were obscured by dust and heat haze, he could just make out individual men moving forward cautiously. As he predicted, the Humvees had stopped short and the Afghans were pushing ahead on foot.

Khalid had seen enough and nudged the man next to him. “Stay here. I will return to the position.”

“I will move when the Americans reach the track, yes?”

“That’s right. It will not be long. Just make sure they don’t see you. Allah be with you.” The veteran warrior crawled back from the outcrop and pushed himself off the ground. Cradling his rifle in his arms, he turned to walk back along the ridgeline. This far out from the Americans, there was no need to crouch or dash from cover to cover. As he walked back to his next position, he glanced up at the sky, wondering if the American spy plane would return.

Chapter 29

Green Berets with Humvee in Afghanistan

Khod Valley

Ice and Mirza had pushed hard to reach the top of the ridgeline in less than two hours. Their position on the mountainous spur now afforded them a view down into the valley to where they could see the American patrol approaching.            “Sir, I have spotted a single target moving along the ridgeline,” Mirza’s voice came over the radio. They were lying about fifty meters apart, systematically searching the terrain on the opposite side of the valley through their high-powered optics.

“Where?” Ice asked.

“Directly across, 100 meters below the prominent crest, moving north.”

Ice crawled forward and scanned the terrain on the opposing slope through the scope of his assault rifle. The location was almost six hundred meters away and covered in rocks; he almost missed the target. There was no doubt the solitary figure was one of the men they were looking for. He was wearing chest webbing and carrying what looked like a sniper rifle.

“Seen,” Ice whispered.

“You want us to take him down?”

“Negative. Let’s just watch and see where he’s heading.”

They didn’t have to wait long. The target moved to what appeared to be a rugged outcrop, lifted the edge of a camouflage net and disappeared from view.

"Damn! We would never have spotted that,” transmitted Ice.

Now that he knew what he was looking for, Ice scanned the surrounding area. He counted five similar outcrops that could be well camouflaged fighting positions. “I count five,” Mirza whispered over the radio.

“Same. More than enough to hit our Green Beret friends hard.”

“Ice,” Mirza replied, “Texas 1-3 is on the move. They’re going to be inside the Taliban engagement area in no time.”

Ice needed the Pain Train on station and needed it now! “Pain Train, this is Ice. I need an ETA.” He opened a channel to the aircraft.

“We’re thirty minutes out, old man, inbound as fast as we can,” Mitch responded.

Ice looked down at the screen on his forearm and the image beamed from the Sentinel UAV. Using his finger, he zoomed out the image to get a clear indication of the distance between his position, Texas 1-3, and the Taliban. Zooming the image back in on the concealed positions, he dropped five target indicators on them. Satisfied with the locations of his targets, he sent the target data to Mitch in the Pain Train. By his calculations, Texas 1-3 would reach the engagement area in about ten minutes but the Pain Train wouldn’t be on-station for another thirty.

The impending ambush could provide cover for Ice and Mirza to slip past the Taliban and infiltrate further up the valley. Alternatively, if Ice warned the Americans, they might just pull back, leaving him and the Pain Train to deal with the Taliban. Ice looked down at his watch; he literally had seconds to make a decision.