Hostage Crisis Page 3
Ben whistled through his teeth. “Can you really trust this Faruq? And what if you get caught? We’ll lose the element of surprise.”
Sparks came to Connor’s defence. “That’s true, but Major Connor can make an excellent case for being on the inside. Our blanket charges will blow one hell of a hole in that wall and will cause substantial damage to nearby buildings. If Miss Shawcross is standing in the wrong place at the wrong time we may end up dragging out her dead body. It would be far better if someone was there to make sure she’s safe.”
“And don’t worry about Faruq,” Connor added. “He’s getting everything he wants. Ten of the finest horses in this region of Afghanistan. I’ve bought his loyalty.”
Sparks looked round for nods from the rest of the team and then said, “OK, count us in.”
“Just one question, sir,” said Sam. “Why ten horses?”
“Four will carry our supplies. The rest we ride to meet up in secret with Faruq, at the entrance to a mountain pass west of his camp. We’ll fly in and pick up the horses. We’ll have just a three-hour ride ahead of us.”
CHAPTER TEN
Fate of the hostage
Taliban training camp, Afghanistan / Pakistan border
The following day, Hassan was told to join a group of new recruits. His time was filled with prayers, exercise, weapons training and instruction on tactics for guerrilla warfare.
He barely had a moment to himself, but Hassan still felt lonely, fearful and out of place. A strange atmosphere hung over the camp. When they were shown the row of suicide vests and ordered to try them on for size, he felt the desperate urge to run away. The others put them on, and were keen to learn how they should best detonate them in crowded places. All Hassan could think of was escaping.
Finally, he had the chance to talk to Amin. His friend looked far from happy.
“The camp’s leader has taken my tanbur,” Amin complained. “Music is not permitted here. What is life without music?”
“That’s a shame. How is Masud?” Hassan asked.
“He’s resting.”
“The Americans have one more day to fulfil his demands. Allah willing, they will pay the ransom. Then Masud can release Kate.” Hassan noticed that Amin looked away. “What? What is it?”
“I fear Kate’s fate is already sealed.”
“What do you mean?” asked Hassan anxiously.
“I overheard them talking, Hassan. The camp’s leader is very angry that Masud brought her here. He fears that the Americans might attack. Worse, he said that as she knows our location, she can never be freed. They will kill her, whatever happens.”
“They can’t. We must do something, Amin.”
“There is nothing we can do, Hassan. Now, I have to go. I have been given a dozen tasks. Tomorrow evening there is an important shura here, a meeting with a powerful local Baloch warlord.”
Hassan sat well away from the others in the camp and desperately tried to think. Kate’s life was in his hands. He’d promised he would help her escape. He was her only hope. Tearing at his hair, he dreamt up a plan of sorts, involving guns and shooting their way out. It was madness and Hassan knew it. But it was all he could think of.
CHAPTER ELEVEN
Riding into action
Southern Afghanistan
On the day of the rescue mission, Delta Force dressed in the flowing robes of Baloch tribesmen. They rode at a gallop, making for the meeting with Faruq.
At mid-afternoon they arrived at the entrance to the mountain pass. Connor struggled to rein in his powerful horse. They waited out of the baking sun, scanning the surrounding rocky slopes.
After half an hour, an extremely large man with a long black beard emerged from among the rocks. Men with rifles appeared high up on the mountainside all round Connor and his men. They were surrounded.
“Allah be praised. Major Connor, he is surely the finest horse in all Afghanistan.”
Connor dismounted and handed the reins to Faruq. “Yes, and he’s all yours.”
They greeted formally the Afghan way, embracing and bumping shoulders.
“I thought it best to meet away from my camp, Major,” Faruq added. “There are informants everywhere.” He waved his men down from the mountainside. “Those you can see are men I know I can trust. We have fought together for many years. Come, we must start our journey to this evening’s shura.” A look of unease passed across his rugged, weather-beaten face. “I assume you have come to kill the Taliban leader.”
“Not exactly,” Connor replied.
“Oh?” Faruq looked puzzled.
“He’s got something we want.”
Faruq frowned.
“Don’t worry. As long as you leave by eleven thirty, you’ll be safe.”
CHAPTER TWELVE
Hassan’s gun
Taliban training camp, Afghanistan / Pakistan border
Kate heard the bolt to her cell slide back. Then the door opened and light streamed in.
“I have brought you some bread and water,” said Hassan.
“Hurry up, boy,” growled one of the guards.
“Listen,” Hassan whispered. “I’m not sure how, but I will try and help you to escape. Hold out your hand.”
Kate did so and Hassan pressed a pistol into it.
“It’s loaded. When the time comes you must be ready to use it.”
“But how do we get out of here? There are so many of them. It’s suicide, Hassan.”
“It may be our only chance.”
“No, Hassan.
“No? Then as sure as the sun rises in the east, you will die. It’s been decided.”
“There’s still time for the ransom to be paid.”
“The ransom makes no difference. And no one will come to rescue you. No one knows you are here. I will try to get us out. I have to go. May Allah protect us.”
CHAPTER THIRTEEN
In the Taliban camp
It had been dark for three hours by the time Delta Force and Faruq’s men reached the valley of the Taliban camp. Danny and Jacko did a sweep with night-vision binoculars and thermal-imaging scopes and located the glow of lookouts stationed outside the camp’s walls. There were three and they’d be dealt with silently once Connor was inside.
Connor’s men had taken off their Baloch tribal dress to reveal their desert fatigues underneath. They’d also applied black paint to their faces, to camouflage them in the moonlight. Connor was still dressed for the shura. Faruq handed Connor a battered old AK-47. “We leave the horses here. They will expect us all to be armed. But we have to hand in our weapons at the gate and shall have them returned when we leave. No guns are allowed at shuras. Your disguise is acceptable, Major, and your grasp of Pashto sufficient to be understood. But your accent might give you away, so blend in with my men and try to avoid speaking.”
“Agreed.” Connor slung the rifle over his shoulder. Then he thought twice and handed it back. “I’ll be staying when you leave. An extra rifle will raise suspicion. Will they search us?”
Faruq shook his head. “Our customs require a degree of trust on such occasions.”
Connor was relieved as he felt safer keeping his combat knife strapped to his left shin.
Faruq led the way with his dozen men, Connor among them, along the stony path towards the glow of lamps and the gate to the Taliban’s fortified compound. A face appeared over the parapet and called out. Faruq responded. As they waited for the gates to open, Connor leaned forward and whispered, “Remember, Faruq, make damn sure you and your men are out of there by eleven thirty. And, whatever you do, don’t head north or else you might run into a rather nasty surprise.”
Once inside and disarmed, the party were led towards a large, two-storey building. Meanwhile, outside, Sparks remained at the evac co-ordinates. He maintained radio contact with CENTCOM and the rest of Delta Force. Jacko sloped off into the night, a silencer attached to his M4 rifle, and Sam followed. Within the hour they had dealt with the external lookouts.
Drawing closer, they could hear voices and saw that the Taliban had posted guards on the walls and roof of the tower. Still they pressed on and, reaching the wall, slipped off their backpacks. They primed the charges and placed them in position. They were about to retreat when a sudden scuffle from the parapet above made them freeze. Someone peered down towards where they lay. Ben held his breath. Had they been heard? Gently, he reached to his belt for his Glock handgun. The face eventually vanished but before either Danny or Ben could breathe a sigh of relief, a naked backside appeared instead. And then they heard splattering and the air filled with a stink. They didn’t wait for the man to finish before retreating to the cover of some boulders.
Faruq and his men settled down on some plump cushions. They faced the Taliban’s representatives across the room. Connor studied the camp’s leader, a man finely dressed with a golden hat made from karakul skins, and gold rings on his fingers. To his left was the camp’s mullah, and to his right was a man with his arm in a sling; Masud. Connor recognised him from intel he’d studied.
A succession of food on trays was brought in and the feast began; spicy meat dishes, roasted corn, nuts and gallons of sweet tea. Conversation was polite and trivial. Connor had to bide his time. It was too early to act.
With the feasting over, talk turned to the business of stolen chickens, appropriate compensation, and a string of promises. Connor could tell the Taliban leader cared little for the Baloch, and he sensed Faruq felt the same about the Taliban.
Beneath his turban, Connor was wearing a covert earpiece. He heard Sparks updating the team. “Arrow and Spear are in position. Helos are on their way and on schedule for the evac. Code Green. We have clearance to proceed. Check your weapons and detonate charges at zero hour when Arrow set off their flares. Good luck.”
The shura drew to a close shortly before eleven fifteen. Everyone headed outside via a narrow corridor. Connor knew it was time to make his move. He dipped through an open side door leading to a storeroom. Feeling his way through the dark to the window, he gently forced it open and climbed out. A nearby rainwater tank offered cover. As Faruq’s party exited through the gate, Connor took stock of his surroundings.
There were Taliban guards everywhere. Connor could see the tower in which Kate Shawcross was hopefully still being held on the far side of the camp. First, though, he needed to locate Hassan. There were numerous buildings to check out, some lit by oil lamps and all hives of activity. In one, men knelt and prayed. In another a dozen or so were reading aloud from the Qur’an. In a third building ten more Taliban were cleaning their rifles.
Connor cursed under his breath. “Where the hell are you, Hassan?” It was twenty to twelve. He realised he had little choice other than ask around. Spotting a tall man crossing the camp, Connor set off after him.
“I’m looking for Hassan,” Connor said.
“What do you want with the boy?” Amin asked. “And who are you? I don’t recognise you.”
Sensing he was about to raise the alarm, Connor pulled the man into the shadows. He gripped the man’s throat. “Where’s the boy? I won’t ask again.”
“I’m here. Now leave my friend alone,” said Hassan as he pointed an AK-47 at Connor.
CHAPTER FOURTEEN
Connor finds Hassan
“He’s an infidel imposter, Hassan. Shoot him. Shoot him now,” Amin demanded.
“Be quiet.” Connor tightened his choking grip. “Listen, Hassan. I know who you are. I’m an old friend of your father’s. I’ve come to rescue you and Miss Shawcross.”
The rifle shook in Hassan’s hands. “Liar. Let my friend go.”
“My name’s Nathan Connor. I knew your father as a boy. I blame myself that the Taliban came and killed your family, Hassan. I promised him I’d look after you.”
“The Taliban killed your family?” Amin repeated in surprise. “Hassan, you never said…”
Hassan lowered his rifle. “I remember you. You came to my village.”
“Yes. Yes, Hassan. And I promised your father that if anything happened to him I’d find you and help you. I’ve been searching for you for weeks. Listen, we haven’t got much time. We must get to Miss Shawcross.”
“Don’t listen to him, Hassan,” Amin spluttered.
“Come with us, Amin. You don’t belong here. Most of these men aren’t even Afghans. And all they want to do is kill people.”
“No. Never. Shoot him, Hass—”
Connor twisted Amin’s head. He went limp and slipped from Connor’s grip. “Sorry, Hassan, but there’s no time for lengthy discussions.”
“You killed my friend!”
“No, Hassan, just rendered him unconscious. Now, we must get to Miss Shawcross.”
Together they headed for the tower. “She is in a room on the first floor. The door is bolted and there are two guards. I visited her earlier and gave her a gun.”
Connor stopped abruptly. “You did what?”
“They were going to kill her, ransom or no ransom. That is wrong. I was going to help her escape. That’s why I have this rifle.”
“Jesus!” Hassan’s courage, and stupidity, had taken Connor by surprise.
Reaching the entrance to the tower, Connor whispered, “At midnight we’re going to blast the wall in order to create a way out. All hell will break loose. I need you to remain calm and do exactly as I say. Now, give me that rifle. Go up the stairs first and distract the guards. I’ll deal with them.” Kneeling down, he removed his combat knife. Hassan gawped at it.
CHAPTER FIFTEEN
Zero hour
Kate heard a scuffle outside. She held out her pistol, pointing it unsteadily towards the door.
The door burst open and Hassan stood before her. “You must lie down, Kate. Now!”
“What?”
Connor came into view holding his blood-covered knife. “I’m Major Connor. Please, miss, do exactly what Hassan says.”
Flares arced into the sky and cast a flickering white light over the camp. The first mortar shells screamed in from the north and exploded in the compound, just as Danny detonated the blanket charges.
The tower shuddered. A huge crack appeared in the wall and debris showered down from the ceiling onto Connor’s head. He leaped to his feet and dragged a bewildered Kate through the swirling cloud of dust towards the door. “Hassan, you all right?”
Coughing and spluttering, Hassan replied, “Yes, sir.”
Together they hurried down the stairs into the courtyard. Buildings to the north were on fire and Taliban fighters were running to defend the camp. Others were already firing their rifles into the night from positions on top of the wall. “This way,” Connor yelled, heading for the blast hole in the wall, with Kate and Hassan close behind.
Connor shot two Taliban who blocked their path. Then two more fighters on the wall turned to shoot. Connor took out one, but the other had a clear shot. Then suddenly the man collapsed, and toppled down into the courtyard. Connor had Sam Wilson to thank for that later.
Danny and Ben emerged from the hole in the wall and adopted crouching positions. “Got you covered, sir,” Danny shouted.
Connor guided Kate and Hassan as they clambered over the pile of rubble and through the hole. Jacko and Sam were waiting further up the valley. “Sir,”Jacko called out. He waved them forward. “This way to our helo. She’s just touched down but won’t want to hang around.”
CHAPTER SIXTEEN
Helicopter evac
Their helo took to the air under full power and banked steeply. Kate couldn’t stop shaking. “You came. I didn’t think you would. I’d given up hope.”
“Sorry we took so long, miss,” Connor replied.
Hassan had only ever
seen helicopters flying overhead. He’d certainly never flown in one, but he was glad to be out of Masud’s reach and away from the Taliban. Sparks leaned forward and grabbed his shoulder. He shouted over the noise of the helo, “Major Connor risked his career, not to mention his life, to find and rescue you.”
“My father was his best friend. He was always talking about him. Thank you for rescuing us. Our prayers were answered. Allahu Akbar, sir, Allahu Akbar. God is greatest!”
Sparks smiled and slapped his shoulder.
Bright light suddenly bathed the interior of the helicopter and moments later it rocked gently as the pressure waves struck it. “Don’t look so alarmed, miss,” Danny called out to Kate. “It’s the air strike. By the time they’re done, there’ll be nothing but dust down there.”
Hassan pressed his face against one of the small windows as he suddenly remembered Amin. Hassan knew they were both on different paths, but perhaps with time Amin would have seen how senseless it all was. He slumped back down, drew his knees up to his chin and buried his head. He was alone in the world again, with no father or mother, and no friends. But at least he still had someone looking over him.
Connor stared at Hassan with a huge feeling of relief. Somehow, they’d all got out alive. Perhaps his nightmares would go now.
He rested his head back and closed his weary eyes. “I’ve kept my promise to you, Assif, old friend. I have found Hassan, your son,” he muttered. But Connor realised he hadn’t thought any further than that. He puffed out his cheeks and sighed. He’d do what he could for the boy. But in the most dangerous, lawless, poverty-stricken place on Earth, how would Hassan ever be safe?