Jalalabad
Lat = 34 degrees, 25.5 minutes North
Long = 70 degrees, 28.6 minutes East
Back in Jalalabad Max left Sami, and walked to the Springhar Hotel, and entered the reception area quickly scanning the area observing it was fairly quiet. He walked over to the reception. “May I help you,” the receptionist said.
“I have a letter for a Mr. Hussein whom I believe is staying here,” Max produced an envelope.
“May I leave it here for him?”
“Certainly I will leave it in his post box.” “Many thanks, Allah be with you.” Max replied.
He observed the receptionist place the envelope in the post box of room Forty-seven.
Max walked away back out of the hotel, he waited outside for five minutes, before reentering, once inside he made his way to the stairs, and climbed them to the second floor. He entered the corridor the room directly in front was room Thirty-nine.
Max went down the corridor and located Hussein’s room, the corridor was quiet; he listened at the door it was quiet from within. Max removed his silenced Walther that he had borrowed from Sami.
He knocked the door. “Who is it came the reply from the room.”
“Hotel porter sir, I have a telegram for you.” “Push it under the door.”
“Many apologies sir, but I must have a signature,” Max replied.
“One moment,” Hussein walked over to the door and opened it.
As the door opened Max pushed all his body weight against it, and Hussein went flying across the floor.
Before Hussein could recover Max was on him like a panther, with the Walther pressed hard under Hussein’s throat.
A pair of handcuff’s where expertly placed around Hussein’s wrists, causing him to flinch as Max closed them tight.
“Please don’t kill me, take what you want,” pleaded Hussein.
“I am here for information,” Max replied in good old fashion English.
Hussein was visibly shocked, when he heard this native’s tongue, he also realized he was dealing with a professional, Hussein quickly regained his composure. “What do you want infidel.”
“I want to know where I can find Shakira Umbobo.”
Hussein put on a brave face. “Get lost I’m telling you nothing!”
Max exerted pressure and forced Hussein face down he leveled the Walther’s barrel close to Hussein’s left ear and squeezed the trigger; the silenced weapon let out a small phut sound the bullet took a nick out of the earlobe.
Hussein let out a cry of pain. “I am serious and you will talk,” Max said.
“Go to hell,” replied Hussein.
Max quickly fired another shot at Hussein’s other earlobe, again Hussein cried out.
“The next two go in the knee caps followed by your more sensitive areas now tell me where Shakira is?”
Daringly he replied, “You wouldn’t dare.”
Max dragged Hussein over to the bed put his boot on Hussein’s neck and exerted pressure pinning him to the floor. He quickly took a pillow case off a pillow and tied a knot in the middle, he pulled Hussein up and forced the knot into his mouth and tied the ends around the back of his head, forming a gag and dragged Hussein by his feet into the bathroom.
With his free hand he punched Hussein in the stomach winding Him and causing him to wretch against the gag.
As Hussein was gasping for air, Max pulled him up and rolled him into the bath. “This is where it gets bloody; now give me Shakira’s location.”
Hussein shook his head, Max pointed the pistol at Hussein’s left thigh just above the knee and fired, blood began to flow into the bath.
Max grabbed a towel and tied it into a tourniquet around Hussein’s wounded leg above the wound.
“Don’t want you dying on me now,” Max said.
Hussein was pale with shock, and began nodding his head. “Ready to talk now?” Max removed the gag.
“Zimbabwe, He has a camp in Zimbabwe!”
“Good, now that’s a big country where exactly is this camp.”
“100 Clicks south of a town called Mutare.”
“How do I know you’re telling the truth, I think you’re lying?”
Max raised the pistol and aimed at Hussein’s right knee, he looked Hussein in the eyes; “this will be your knee cap maiming you for life”.
Terror contorted his face. “Allah have mercy, I swear I’m telling the truth.”
Max saw real fear in Hussein; he had seen what fear looked like enough times, to know Hussein was not lying.
Max lowered the pistol, “Okay I want you to give me a full rundown on this camp, numbers of men, transport, weapons and communications.
Hussein talked for ten minutes giving Max the information he needed.
Max released the tourniquet to allow the blood to flow back for a minute into Hussein’s injured leg.
“You’ll live, but you will have a limp.” Max placed the gag back on Hussein’s mouth.
“Now listen to me I am going to leave you here, within a half-hour someone will visit you, and when it’s safe they will take you from the hotel, you will be looked after and once I have caught up with Shakira you will be released, understand!” Hussein nodded in agreement.
Max made his way back to Sami’s house and explained what had happened.
“I’ll get him to the red cross building immediately, I have two men I can rely on to assist me,” Sami said.
“I need access to a phone Sami.”
“Come with me to the red cross building, there is a phone there you can use.”
They walked the short distance to the Red Cross building; Sami unlocked the door and showed Max to the phone. “I’ll leave you here to make your call, I’ll go get Hussein.”
Max dialed the long distance call. Strayker picked up the phone.
“Strayker here.”
“Hi uncle it’s Max, I need transport home.” “Did you get the story Max?”
“Yes, uncle,” Max replied.
“Okay I’ll arrange transport for the pre-arranged R.V. call me back in one hour.” Strayker replaced the phone and dialed the number for RAF Northolt.
“Wing Commander Shaw”, came the response.
“Hi Peter, my boy needs extraction, from the pre-arranged location can you assist?” “Give me half an hour and I’ll get back to you.”
Strayker hung the phone up and waited patiently. Twenty minutes later Strayker’s phone rang. “Hi Strayker, your boy has three hours and twenty five minutes, to make the R.V. a helicopter will pick him up, and if he is late they will not wait.” “He will be there Peter, again my appreciation.”
Max was drinking a coffee when Strayker made the call. “Max, transport arranged, you have two hours and Strayker looked at his watch, fifty five minutes to get to the R.V.”
“I’m on my way uncle.”
Max was picking up his kit when Sami returned with his two helpers Hussein was unconscious. “I’ve given him a pain killer and sedative,” Sami said.
“Remember, Sami keep him under close guard and do not let him have access to anyone or a phone, I’ll let you know when it’s safe to release him.”
“Don’t worry Max; I’ll take good care of him.”
“Thanks for your help and hospitality, I’m off now.”
With that he shook hands with Sami, and walked out the door and into the dark streets of Jalalabad.
One hour and twenty minutes later Max arrived at the pickup zone. He sat down and assimilated the information Hussein had given him about Shakira’s camp.
The camp consisted of thirty-five mercenaries, a Huey helicopter and various motorized vehicles.
There were four permanent buildings, one that Shakira used; one was the Laboratory the second a supply building and the last one was divided into a mess room with communications room and generator.
Two heavy machine gun emplacements were set up. There were seven Laboratory technicians and Shakira’s men slept under canvas.
The whole site was open with the exception of a handful of Acacia trees. Max made a rough hand drawing of the camp layout from the information Hussein had supplied; the moon was full affording good light for the task.
Max was alerted to the sound of a helicopter approaching from the South East; he looked at his watch good timing he thought. He took cover to be on the safe side; within a few minutes a dark shape began to loom with a single powerful searchlight illuminating the ground, the helicopter settled down. A flash light from within the cockpit area began to flash in Morse code.
Max read the signal, Eagle three, Strayker waits.
Max replied with his torch and then ran across to the chopper crouching down below the rotary blade and hopped on board. “Excellent timing gentlemen, lets get out of here without delay.”