“Khatar day?”
“Hoo.”
“Dalta nazhde kum mayn shta?”
“Na — aarr!”
Connor wiped the blood from his knife on the Taliban fighter’s clothes. Jacko crawled over the two bodies and continued on a further fifty metres. Then he whispered over the radio that the rest of the ditch was clear. Connor ordered the others to move up.
At the river, they slipped the canoes into the water and set off upriver, hugging the bank for maximum cover. The muscles in their arms began to burn as they pulled against the strong current. They pressed on, desperate to remain silent, desperate to remain unnoticed.
After an hour’s exertion, Connor checked his wrist-mounted GPS locator. He was relieved that they’d finally reached his planned point to go ashore. He paddled hard left to take him towards the bank and thick undergrowth. The others followed and they dragged their canoes onto the muddy bank.
Connor needed to get a proper look at the layout of the village — located about two hundred metres away — before making a move on the compound where intel had placed Jabir, Colonel Khalid and Baxter. He lay flat, using his elbows to haul himself through a stinking irrigation ditch. He emerged from tall spiky grass about fifty metres from the nearest building.
To his left was a pomegranate orchard, to his right a field of wheat. Straight ahead was a stony track leading to the cluster of walled compounds, and several derelict outbuildings. He scanned the whole area with a thermal-imaging scope, but saw no sign of any guards. If any were there, they were well hidden. He radioed for the others to join him.
“Do you reckon they’ve moved the hostages, sir?” Ben asked. “This place looks deserted.”
“Don’t know. Guess we’d better find out. Sparks and Sam stay here and cover our exit. Sparks, keep an open channel to CENTCOM and make sure air support is ready to come and evac us at a moment’s notice. Ben and Danny — you’re Team Two — enter via the back of the compound and get onto the flat roof of the target building as quickly as possible. Standard protocol; clear the first floor while Jacko and I deal with the ground level. Move in on my command. Good luck, guys.”
Delta Force moved swiftly and silently from one place of cover to the next. Connor and Jacko entered the field of wheat and reached part of the compound’s mud-brick wall that had collapsed. They waited, crouching in the dark. A click in Connor’s ear was followed by Danny’s voice. Team Two had arrived at the rear of the compound. “Roger that. Go!” Connor replied.
Jacko was first over the wall. On the other side he knelt and swept the compound with his M4. Once over, Connor ran towards a side door in the farmhouse. He noticed the windows had been blacked out. The only sound was the whirr and clatter of an electricity generator in a nearby outhouse. Danny and Ben appeared on the top of the wall at the rear of the compound. They ran along it, stooping to maintain their balance as it rose up a good three metres. When close enough to the farmhouse, they jumped onto the flat roof and prepared to enter through a first-floor window. “Team Two in position, over.”
Connor checked the doorframe closely for signs of a booby trap, but there was nothing suspicious. He gave the order to enter.
Ben forced in the window on the first floor and Danny scanned the room. It was clear. Ben quickly climbed through and they began to check the upstairs rooms. At the same time, Jacko entered the dark hallway, crouched down and waved Connor forward. Through their night-vision gear they could see the hallway was empty.
“Clear! … Clear! … Clear!” It all happened in seconds; crashing doors as they got kicked open, shouting as Danny and Ben checked the upstairs rooms. Jacko and Connor moved fast too, each taking rooms on opposite sides of the hall.
“Clear!” Connor shouted.
“Oh, Jeezzuss! In here, major.”
Connor turned and hurried across the hallway, entering a sparsely furnished room. To his right a TV and DVD player stood on a large box. To his left, Colonel Khalid and Sergeant Baxter were sitting on the floor, propped up against the wall, their decapitated heads resting in their laps.
Suddenly, the TV burst into life.
Startled and unnerved Connor and Jacko spun round. “What the…?”
The TV picture showed Jabir Hassani sitting cross-legged. A cheap motion sensor had been rigged to the DVD player’s “on” switch, triggering the video to start when someone entered the room.
“First floor secure,” Danny said over the radio.
“I don’t like this,” Connor snapped, staring at Khalid and Baxter.
Jabir raised a hand, almost as if waving, and began to speak. “So, we meet again Major Connor.”
“How the…?” Jacko’s jaw dropped.
“Sparks! Sam! We’ve been set up. Watch for movement,” Connor barked.
Jabir leaned forward towards the camera lens and continued. “My sources informed me that Delta Force had been assigned with the rescue attempt. As you can see, I’m afraid you are too late, major. You should have killed me when you had the chance, but you didn’t. And tomorrow the president will die too, major. Of course, I know you’ll try to stop me and you’ll try to protect him. But you will FAIL!”
“We’re leaving. Now!” Connor shouted. “Team Two fall back to your entry point.”
On the TV, Jabir continued but no one was watching. He began ranting, repeating his demands, spitting hatred at all non-believers, raging that his Taliban would be victorious in their jihad.
Connor and Jacko were halfway across the compound when the bomb linked to the DVD player detonated. The explosion flung them to the ground.
A few hundred metres away, Shafiq crouched behind a dry-stone wall separating two fields of poppies overlooking the compound. He had been watching events unfold through a pair of night-vision binoculars his father had stolen from the ANA. He’d seen soldiers enter. He’d watched the building explode. And now he could hear the rhythmic thwack-thwack of helicopter rotors in the distance. He took his mobile phone from his pocket and dialled.
“Uncle Jabir, you were right. They did come. The bomb’s exploded but I think they got out alive. Their helicopters are coming for them.”
Jabir laughed. “No matter. They have been deceived. It is enough of a victory for one day. Tomorrow, they shall all die. Well done, Shafiq. Come and join us. We shall watch them die together.”
Shafiq put the phone back into his pocket and leapt over the wall. Clambering onto his dirt bike, he kick-started it and gunned the throttle. The buzz of the two-stroke engine echoed through the valley. He switched on the headlamp and headed north, tyres kicking dust. He was looking forward to tomorrow. His uncle’s plan would make headline news around the world. Jabir Hassani would be famous. And he, young Shafiq, had played his part. He felt proud. But as he tore up a rough trail, something bothered him. Despite being certain he’d followed his uncle’s orders precisely, deep down he had the feeling he’d forgotten to do something; something important.