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First Strike Page 3


  Connor knew that Ben was right. But he also knew that to leave him there was the equivalent of a death sentence. And he was damned if he was going to lose one of his men. He grabbed Ben’s webbing. “Now, you listen to me, Sergeant Saunders. All you have to do is keep placing one foot in front of the other and we’ll get there in time. You walk or you die!”

  Teeth chattering, Ben reluctantly nodded and tried to get to his feet. Connor helped him up.

  Jacko and Sam stepped forward. “We’ll carry him, if necessary, sir,” said Jacko.

  Another five hours wading through the snow, their faces and feet numbed by the cold, they drew close to Hamid’s village. The valley had narrowed and the mountains towered over them, shutting out the pale moonlight. The trail was steep and the snow compacted. Connor knew it meant others had recently come their way.

  “My house is on the edge of the village,” Hamid declared, pointing. “The entrance to the mine is beyond. You cannot see it from the village. It is in a deep ravine.”

  Connor looked at his team and realised everyone was exhausted. They needed rest and he needed time to figure out how best to proceed. “Where are they holding your family?”

  “In a stone hut close to the mine’s entrance. I used to keep explosives in it. It has no windows and a strong lock. It makes a good prison.”

  “Right, then we’ll rest at your house. Lead the way.”

  Hamid swallowed hard but nodded. He knew it was pointless to protest.

  Connor took Sparks to one side. “Bury the bulk of our gear here. Just in case.”

  Entering the enemy’s lair, Connor knew that the slightest slip-up and they’d be dead.

  CHAPTER NINE

  Questions for Hamid

  Sergeant Sparks was woken by voices and a baying dog. He blinked. Daylight streamed in through a narrow crack between two grubby blankets being used as curtains. Connor dipped back from the window. “This place is crawling with Taliban.”

  Connor heard Pashto and Dari being spoken. Barely six feet from the window, three Taliban stood talking and he’d been listening in. They had been there a week and were due to leave tomorrow. “We’ve got to get a look at that mine,” Connor said, thinking aloud.

  “I will tell you the way,” Hamid replied. “But the guards will recognise me, and there might be trouble. So, you go alone. I will go and see Khan later. I need to free my family.”

  Connor frowned. There had been something nagging away at him ever since he first met Hamid. If Khan knew Hamid was talking to Bradley, an American, why hadn’t Khan ordered his men to kill Hamid as well? Grabbing the Afghan, he posed the question, his tone threatening.

  “Yes, it is true Khan feared I would reveal his presence here,” Hamid responded. “That’s why Bradley had to die. But my father tried to convince Khan that my only reason for meeting Bradley was to sell our emeralds. Nevertheless, Khan decided to test me. If Bradley gave me money for the emeralds, confirming I spoke the truth, Khan’s men were ordered to let me live. I was instructed to return here with both the emeralds and the money, and give both to Khan. Only then will he release my family.”

  Connor scratched his beard thoughtfully. It sort of made sense.

  Filled with painkillers, Ben slept soundly. Hamid boiled some water and Sam added it to their powdered ration packs. As they ate, a plan began to form in Connor’s head. “Hamid, go and fetch all your spare clothes. If we’re going to have any chance of getting to the mine in daylight we need to be disguised.”

  Hamid disappeared into another room. Danny followed him.

  “Sam, you stay here with Ben, and keep a close eye on Hamid. We’ll do a recce, and with any luck get the co-ordinates of the mine. We’ll radio them back to CENTCOM and get the hell out of here as soon as it’s dark.”

  Jacko was busy cleaning his rifle. “So you believe our little friend’s story, do you, sir?”

  Connor shrugged. “Right now, I don’t think we have much choice.”

  Jacko pulled a face. “If you ask me, his story doesn’t entirely add up. Why was he still there when we arrived at that abandoned village? Why didn’t he leave with Khan’s men? After all, he had the cash and emeralds.”

  There was no denying it, Jacko had a point. Connor couldn’t think of a reason why Hamid had stayed on at the village either. When the Afghan returned clutching a pile of unwashed clothes, Jacko fired the question at him. Hamid put the clothes down. “I told Khan’s men I was feeling ill and needed to rest a while. Bradley had said there were others coming. I stayed on to warn you.”

  It was the perfect answer. Too perfect? Connor wondered.

  CHAPTER TEN

  Double crossed?

  Connor, Sparks, Danny and Jacko left Hamid’s house wearing clothes the Afghan had given them. They walked slowly through the village. The place was a hive of activity, with small gatherings of Taliban squatting about fires and talking of war. There were so many, few gave Connor and his men more than a second glance. Connor noticed several cages full of chickens and half a dozen tethered goats. He suspected that a feast was going to be prepared. Maybe, just maybe, they’d timed their visit perfectly.

  Following Hamid’s instructions they continued along a path that climbed northwards, away from the village. With the storm having passed and the sun now out, Connor was struck by the barren, almost brutal, landscape of snow and rock. He figured that if it wasn’t for the silver and emeralds, few would even try to eke out an existence in such a remote and unforgiving place.

  The path quickly levelled out. Either side, sheer rock faces rose high into the sky. To their left, the ground fell away steeply to form a deep ravine. At the end was the entrance to the mine, a small stone building, and six Taliban guards. Danny appeared at Connor’s shoulder. “Reminds me of the caves at Tora Bora,” he whispered. “So well concealed that air strikes won’t work.”

  Connor nodded. Reaching to his wrist, he felt for his GPS device hidden beneath his sleeve and pressed the button that would record his precise position. He now had the information Rogers needed to target the air strike but knew that it was doomed to failure. Sparks read his thoughts. “Sir, it would be better if we could blow the entrance ourselves. But we haven’t got the ordnance to do that.”

  Connor remembered how Bradley had told him that Hamid’s family had stockpiled old Russian munitions. “No, but I know a man who has.”

  A sudden commotion behind them made Connor and his men turn sharply. They could only look on in horror. Hamid was waving an AK-47 rifle triumphantly in the air. Behind him, Taliban were dragging Sam and Ben. And behind them came twenty more Taliban, all shouting and cheering and waving their rifles, all baying for the blood of the American infidels to be spilled.

  “Why, the dirty, double-crossing little rat,” Jacko snarled.

  Sensing Jacko was reaching for his concealed handgun, Connor grabbed his arm. “Wait. It might not be quite what it seems.” Connor had noticed that Hamid had not pointed them out and figured there had to be a reason why. “I reckon someone came to his house and saw Ben and Sam. Hamid had no choice but to make out he’d captured them on his return journey.”

  “Khan will never buy it,” Danny replied.

  “No, maybe not, but it has bought both Hamid and us some time.” Connor came to a snap decision. “He’s not going to give us away. At least, not yet. Come on, we’ll join the crowd. They’re heading inside the mine.”

  Merging with the throng, Connor and his men entered the silver mine. The entrance, little bigger than a doorway, led to a tunnel directly into the mountainside. Well lit by lamps, Connor noted several narrow side shafts piled high with weapons and boxes of ammunition. The crowd continued on, the ear-splitting cacophony of shouting echoing and reverberating. Deep into the mine, the tunnel opened up into a ninety foot cavern. Water dripped from the ceiling and the uneven floor was wet and slippery underfoot. There were tables and chairs and filthy old mattresses, some covered in richly embroidered blankets. On a raised platform sat
a plump man, wearing a black turban. He had a large scar on his face. “So we meet at last, Mullah Khan,” Connor muttered hatefully under his breath.

  Sam and Ben were thrown onto the floor at Khan’s feet. The crowd fell silent. Hamid stepped forward. “These infidels came with Lieutenant Bradley. I have tricked them. They are a gift to you, Mullah Khan.”

  A tall Taliban fighter standing at Khan’s shoulder leaned forward and whispered to him. Khan then spoke. “These men attacked a village. Many of our brothers perished. Rafiq, here, was there. He says there were other infidels.”

  “Yes, but they were killed,” Hamid lied. “I have come to ask you to release my family. I have done what you asked.”

  “How do I know you speak the truth? The men I sent with you to meet Lieutenant Bradley are dead too.”

  Fumbling beneath his shirt, Hamid produced his drawstring bag of emeralds and wad of American dollars. “For you, sir. And the Taliban cause. They will buy many weapons.”

  Khan thought long and hard before announcing his decision. “Very well, I shall release your family.” He then addressed the crowd. “Brothers, this is our last evening together. Tonight, we shall have a great feast here, inshallah. Tomorrow you leave. And you all know your missions. A week from now the streets of Kabul shall run with the blood of the infidel.”

  Cries of Allahu Akbar rang out.

  “And tonight we shall film these two infidels pleading for mercy. Then, at midnight, you, Hamid, will have the honour of cutting off their heads.”

  Standing at the back of the crowd, Connor whispered, “I’ve heard enough. Come on, we’ve got work to do.”

  Having watched Sam and Ben being locked up in the heavily guarded stone hut close to the mine’s entrance, Connor and the rest of his team retraced their steps to Hamid’s house and set about figuring out a rescue plan.

  A worried Hamid returned half an hour later with his father, wife and two children. They looked hungry and scared out of their wits, their fear doubling on seeing Connor and his men. Hamid paced the room anxiously. “I cannot do it. Allah forbids it. I will not cut off their heads. We must run away. Otherwise Khan will kill us too.”

  “If all goes well you won’t need to,” Connor replied. He took hold of the Afghan and sat him down. “Now, listen, are there any other entrances to that mine?”

  Hamid shook his head.

  “Good. Where do you keep those old Russian explosives you use to blast out the emeralds?”

  Hamid looked up. “In an outbuilding. Why?”

  “Jacko, go with him and fetch as much as you can carry. Sparks, relay the GPS co-ordinates of the mine and village to CENTCOM and inform them the meeting is being held tonight. Also, make it clear that an air strike will only have limited success on the mine and so we’re going to try and destroy it ourselves. To give us time to get clear, set Zero Hour for the F-16s at 2300 hours. Arrange an evac by helo for us one kilometre back along the trail, timed to coincide.”

  Connor’s plan was simple, to wait until the feast inside the mine was under way and then blast the mine tunnel with enough plastic explosive to cause it to collapse. Even if some of the Taliban survived the explosion, they’d be entombed. But there were complications.

  “We can’t lay an old-fashioned wire or Bickford fuse,” Danny noted, scratching his beard thoughtfully. “There are too many guards. They’d see it. And, we haven’t any remote detonators, sir.”

  Connor already had the problem covered. “That’s not quite true, Danny. We’ll improvise. Go and fetch the Switchblade that Sam was carrying in his backpack.”

  “Yes, sir.” Danny grinned. He realised what Connor had in mind. Switchblade was the latest high-tech mini-drone, so new that it had barely finished official testing.

  Jacko and Hamid returned lugging two large sacks filled with plastic explosive. Connor inspected them. “Excellent. There’s enough there to demolish half a mountain. Now, Hamid, we need three wooden crates and a pile of cooking vessels. And ask your wife to boil up a large pot of vegetables.”

  “Vegetables?” Hamid frowned in bewilderment but did as asked.

  As dusk fell and the Taliban began making their way to the feast, Delta Force prepared the wooden crates. In one, they placed pots of steaming vegetables. The other two were crammed with explosives. Hamid’s wife draped cloths over all three. They were ready. Connor ran through everyone’s role one last time. Hamid appeared extremely nervous, and he had good reason to be.

  CHAPTER ELEVEN

  Connor’s plan

  Positioning themselves overlooking the ravine, Connor and Sparks watched through their night-vision binoculars as the last of the visiting Taliban fighters entered the mine. It was 2200. The nearby stone hut remained under guard. Connor was relieved, as it meant that Ben and Sam were inside, and hadn’t yet been taken to Khan.

  Putting down his bins, Connor opened the Switchblade pack. First, he removed the metre-long cylindrical launcher. The electric-powered mini-drone was inside. He set it up on a flattish piece of ground. Then he peered into the shoebox-shaped viewer which would display the real-time video feed from a tiny camera on the drone’s nose.

  Sparks kept watch. “They’re on their way,” he said after a long wait, pointing. “Game on.”

  Hamid walked one pace ahead of Danny and Jacko towards the entrance to the mine. Each carried a crate. Hamid was shaking but hoped the darkness would conceal his terror. He stopped abruptly when challenged by a Taliban sentry. “I bring extra food at the request of Mullah Khan. There is much feasting to be done.”

  The sentry stepped forward and lifted the cloth. Steam from the pot of vegetables filled the air. Replacing the cloth, he nodded and stepped back, gesturing with his rifle towards the lamplight spilling from the entrance. Barely able to hold the crate steady, Hamid thanked him and entered the mine, the heavily disguised Danny and Jacko following quickly on his heels, unchallenged.

  “So far so good.” Stage one of Connor’s plan was complete. He grabbed hold of the small hand-held panel of switches and joystick he’d use to control the mini-drone once it was launched. But first he had to wait for the others to place the charges and make it out of the mine safely.

  Hamid, Jacko and Danny moved in single file through the tunnel. Connor had instructed them to place the crates on the left-hand side, sixty paces from the entrance. As they counted, they heard Mullah Khan leading his men in prayer. The voices boomed and echoed.

  “Here,” Danny declared. He put down his crate. Jacko placed his on top, and Hamid’s topped the stack. Danny could see rows of Taliban kneeling on prayer cushions in the main cavern, their backs to him, all facing Khan sitting cross-legged on his raised platform. He thought of Bradley and of sweet revenge.

  Turning to leave they were confronted by Khan’s right-hand man, Rafiq. He gazed at them with suspicion. “What are you doing? Why aren’t you praying?”

  “I have brought extra food,” Hamid explained. His feeble voice betrayed his fear.

  “I see.” Rafiq frowned. “Now you have brought it, you can go and pray.”

  “No, I must…” Hamid pleaded. “I must go home.”

  “Nonsense. Mullah Khan has bestowed the greatest honour on you. By your sword hand the infidels shall die. But, come, first you must pray.”

  “That’s why I must go home,” Hamid continued. “I wish to use my father’s sword. It has the finest blade. Allah demands a clean cut.”

  “You can use my sword,” Rafiq snapped, seizing Hamid’s arm.

  2220. Connor gazed anxiously at the entrance to the mine. “Damn it, what’s keeping them? They should have come out by now.”

  CHAPTER TWELVE

  Neat flying

  Jacko’s strike to Rafiq’s throat made the Taliban’s eyes bulge. A second later he was dead, his neck snapped by a sharp twist. “Let’s get the hell out of here,” Jacko snarled, dragging the body into one of the side tunnels.

  The second they emerged from the mine, Sparks headed off to j
oin them. Connor launched the Switchblade mini-drone from its carrier. It barely made a sound as it climbed into the night sky. Connor peered into the video viewfinder and used the joystick to gain control. He sent it on a wide arc, allowing it to gather speed, and then set a course into the ravine and the mine’s entrance.

  Once beyond sight of the guards, Sparks distributed weapons to Danny and Jacko, who were keen to strip off their disguises.

  Hamid’s work was done. “Go,” Sparks said to him. “And take your family as far away from here as you can get.”

  Connor’s palms were all sweaty and his pulse raced. The live feed from the drone’s tiny nose-mounted camera took a little getting used to, and he had only one shot at getting it right. Fail and the mission would be a disaster. Concentrating hard, he applied gentle pressure on the joystick to correct the drone’s path. Travelling at forty kilometres an hour, it flew directly towards the entrance. Connor flicked a switch to arm the small two-pound explosive warhead. Suddenly the drone was inside the tunnel. Connor saw flashes as it flew past each lamp lining the walls. “Where are they? Where are they?” he muttered. Then he saw the crates and aimed the drone right at them.

  The screen in Connor’s viewfinder went blank. A flash emerged from the mine’s entrance. Then a loud rumble and the earth shook. Finally debris, dust and smoke blasted out. Leaping up, Connor ran.

  Dazed, the guards outside staggered about in shock. Jacko, Danny and Sparks let rip with their carbines and lightweight machine guns as they ran down into the ravine. In seconds the guards were dead. Jacko shot through the lock on the stone hut, swung the door open and helped Ben and Sam out.