“Now it gets really interesting!” he said, looking around the table.
The CH-47 Chinook that was waiting in the corner, got pushed out onto the PAN and started up. A few minutes later, it started rolling forward and gracefully lifted into the air. It dropped its nose and the tail came up steeply, it then set off, hugging the sand over the desert towards Baghdad.
The team sat silently, the jokes had finished, and they had work to do. Each one of them went over their drills in their heads.
One of the scientists said, "Gentlemen, check your badges!"
A murmur went around the cabin, hardly audible over the noise of the blades chopping at the air.
"Clear!" came the response from each one of them as they all checked their indicators.
The journey would take a little over two hours. En route, they were joined by a pair of Warthogs, the warplanes would be with them for the rest of the mission.
44
“What the hell? Are you going all religious on us or something?” Dave said, following Bob's gaze.
“They’ve been following us since we set off,” he said, looking up at the stars pricking holes in the night sky.
“What are you talking about?” Harry asked.
“UAV. They’ve been watching us since we entered Iraq. Seems that our guardian angel has been keeping an eye on us.”
“Like shit has it! I didn’t see any troops helping us out when we went into that bloody house!”
“Harry’s right,” Dave said. “They couldn’t give a rat’s arse about us. All they want is that suitcase and whoever it belongs to. We’re just cannon fodder!"
Harry looked at Bob, “How are they going to help us then?”
Dave pointed out, “We have the keys. Now we also have the bomb!”
“We don’t have it yet," Bob grunted. "It’s over there, and for all I know, it’s frying our fricking balls off."
They all subconsciously fidgeted slightly, turning sideways on as if it would stop anything happening.
“He’s right, Dave, anyway, what good’s a bomb to us?” Harry said. He looked at Bob, “How do we get help, Bob? Pick up a phone and say: Excuse me, could you send us in a decontamination team? We seem to have a bit of a nuclear leak problem.”
“Exactly that, Harry. Exactly that.”
Harry looked at him as if he’d lost his marbles. Dave shrugged.
Bob got his mobile out and switched it on.
“Bob?” Dave asked as he waited for his phone to start up.
“Yes, mate?”
“I’d hate to see your mobile bill at the end of the month, the data roaming charges are going to be through the roof!”
It rang almost immediately - they all nearly jumped out of their skins.
Bob pressed the connect button, “Hello?”
“We’ve got your position locked into the rescue helicopter. We’ve also picked up the leak from the suitcase with the UAV you were just looking at.”
“It’s you then?” Bob said, looking at Dave and Harry whilst pointing up.
“As soon as we picked up the leak we launched the recovery team. They’ll be on your position within two hours. Secure the area and await further instructions.” The man hung up.
Bob looked at the phone, “Fuckwit!" He put it away and looked at the other two, “They’re on their way. They’re sending in a team to get it and us out. We have to secure the area.”
“What! We’re not in the bloody army now!" Dave cursed. "Who’s he think he is?”
Harry suggested, “We’ve got to move away from this position. It can’t be that bad, though. They said the UAV didn’t detect the leak until we moved the rubble. I’d say behind that wall would be okay,” he said, pointing.
Dave looked down at his family jewels, “Hear that little fella, just behind that wall, okay?”
Bob and Harry burst out laughing as he tapped them.
They set up in line-of-sight of the safe and dug in, keeping an eye out for any more shooters.
"The cavalry will be here in two hours. Dave, Harry, you two okay?”
“I’ll be glad to get home," Harry smiled. "I’m going to have a long hot soak," he looked at Bob, and said, “with Lucy!” He waited for a reaction. Nothing. Bob either didn’t hear or he was ignoring it. Harry just smiled and shrugged. Bob looked away for a few moments, then, “Me too, Harry, me too. Not with Lucy though, that’d just be weird!”
“I could murder a pint of Bombardier,” Dave said, his mouth watering. A thought they all agreed with!
Two hours to the minute, they heard the tell-tale chop off the Chinook blades as it approached their position. Bob held a torch up, pointing it towards the noise.
It came in low, roof top height, touching down fifty metres from their position. Kicking dust up and blowing small pieces of rubble away. The back ramp was open as it came in. As soon as the wheels hit the deck they counted ten bodies disembark. Seven of them took up defensive positions around the transport. The remaining three came and joined them in their makeshift bunker. The Chinook lifted off, skimming the rooftops, banking round to the right as it went. The soldiers disappeared through the rubble and buildings and worked their way to the group's position.
“Bob?”
“That’s me. You are?”
“Major Anderson.” They shook hands.
“Major, nice to meet you. Who are these guys?”
“Special Ops team, a mix of British and American forces and these two are nuclear physicists."
"Gentlemen, these are for you," one of the scientists said, handing them a detector badge each.
"What’s the situation?” the major asked.
“Four of us,” he said, pointing. “Harry, Dave, me and this is Anshu, our guide. No one’s tried shooting at us since I took the last one out.” Bob pointed his torch beam briefly at the safe. “See the safe over there, the case is under it, how far under I don’t know, but it’s giving out radiation.”
“Okay. Thanks, Bob. We'll take it from here.”
The major looked at his men, the two scientists who were with him went up to the safe. When they got up close to it, they took a big grey bag out of a box and folded it out on the floor. They signalled to two other soldiers who came forward and secured a line around the safe. The two scientists looked at the major, giving him the thumbs up. He nodded and the line went tight, then the safe tipped over. The two scientists put the cover over the hole and lifted the case out. Turning it over, they wrapped the case in the cover and taped it closed.
“Okay, Bob, it’s safe now,” the major said, as he got a Geiger counter out. It read just above normal levels. “This’ll hold it until we can get it in the box on the transport.”
Bob nodded and they all breathed a sigh of relief.
The major asked, “Do you have the keys?”
“No, they’re somewhere safe.” Dave noticed Anshu look at Bob when he said this. Anshu paid too much attention for Dave’s liking.
"Okay. I’ll need them soon though," the major instructed.
When they were alone, Harry said, “We’ve got to let Lucy know, Bob.”
“Harry’s right. She has the keys, and she’s in danger,” Dave agreed.
“No one knows she has them… yet,” Bob said, worriedly.
Dave told Bob and Harry what he'd seen earlier – Anshu paying a bit too much attention when the keys were mentioned.
With this, Bob said, “I’ll make a call to her now. I'll tell her to get out of there and stay low until we get back.”
Lucy couldn’t believe it, but she packed her things and left. She booked into a B&B in London, working on the assumption that it’s a big place, so it must be harder for someone to find her.
“I’ll meet you there, we’ll be about five days, okay?”
“Okay. You take care, Bobby, and tell Harry I’m thinking of him.”
The men in the white van listened, packed up their equipment and set off for London. Hopefully, getting there before Lucy, wouldn
’t alert her to the van being parked in the same street, it would just be another white van.
As soon as they arrived, the men got into the property and planted bugs in every room. Also setting up hidden cameras so they could see if anything was happening.
They sat back and waited.
45
“Hostiles, one-hundred metres. Heading this way!” came the shout over the radio. “Seven counted, armed with AK forty sevens and two RPGs.”
The major instructed Comms to get the transport back in. There was a brief pause and then, “Five minutes out,” came the reply.
They took up positions around the area where the suitcase was and waited anxiously for the transport to return.
The major ordered two of his men to take out the two RPGs. “Don’t want them shooting down our transport out of here, do we?” he said, looking at Bob.
Thirty seconds later, there were two dead hostiles laying in the dirt. They killed them with their knives, keeping the noise to a minimum. The first the others knew about it was when their leader shouted to them to get the helicopter. Shortly after, he was lying dead with his companions. The others fled to get some distance between them and the hidden forces in front of them.
Dave looked around and noticed Anshu had legged it. “Can you see Anshu?” he asked Harry.
“No, the little shit’s gone. If I ever see him again I’ll kill him!”
“Don’t worry,” Bob said, “we’ll catch up with him.”
The helicopter landed with the ramp down and they all scrambled on. Scientists and suitcase first, then Bob, Dave and Harry, closely followed by the soldiers, lastly the major. The aircraft lurched into the air, skimming the rooftops as it went, flares popping out from their casings as they headed towards the border.
Out of the side window, in the distance, Dave could see the ghostly appearance against the sunrise of two Warthogs, they were high, five hundred metres off to their right.
“Air cover,” one of the soldiers said.
The Special Forces guys sat looking at their three guests, not saying anything. Ten minutes later, one of them asked, “Who the hell are you guys?”
“They’re a bunch of gung-ho pricks!” one of them shouted above the noise.
Dave looked at the person who just said this, he couldn’t believe his ears, it was Poppy.
“Hi, Dave, still doing your mercenary bit I see!” she smiled, taking her head gear off.
He smiled back, “I gave that up four weeks ago. I’m working for MI6 now!”
She looked at him, cocked her head slightly, “You into nuclear clear-outs now then?”
“Nope just diamonds, we were…coerced into this one.”
She nodded, then said, letting her guard down, “It’s good to see you again, Dave.” She looked around at the others, “Who are your mates?”
“This is Bob, he’s the one who left me the message on the phone. And this is Harry.”
"So how did you all meet?" she asked quickly, hoping her team wouldn’t see her smiling.
"We all served. Bob, I knew from working with him just after training, he was a captain in the army. Harry, I met at the new job, ex-rock demolition expert."
On hearing they were all forces, the other soldiers all nodded, the uncomfortableness that had greeted them as they lifted off, melted away.
Twenty minutes into the flight, the helicopter suddenly banked hard over, forcing them into their seats. The flares started popping off again as the aircraft lurched from side to side. There was a huge flash and a deafening explosion, immediately followed by a huge cracking sound. The aircraft began to shake violently and then dropped.
Dave looked over at Poppy, but all he saw was a huge hole where the fuselage had been ripped open. The daylight changing to night, then day, then night as it started to spin.
Dave's guts tried to escape from his mouth as the chopper fell out of the sky. Claxons were shrilling all around the cabin as they hit the ground. The Chinook skidded along the sand rolling onto the side with the gaping hole, shovelling tonnes of sand inside as it slid to a stop.
Dave looked at Harry, he was hanging in his seat harness, dead! He’d been caught by the shrapnel from the explosion and torn apart. His eyes searched for Poppy, but there was just a large pile of sand where she’d been sitting.
The major, four soldiers, Bob and Dave were all who were left alive. One of the soldiers had a broken arm but the rest of were okay, mostly bruised and shaken. The others were all missing, presumed dead, including Poppy.
The major got up, “Let’s get going,” he ordered.
Dave looked at Bob, and they both looked at Harry. They sat, staring at him. The major shouted his order again, they both reacted like soldiers and got their arses in gear. If they didn't want to end up like Harry and Poppy, they had to start listening.
They took up positions outside the helicopter and watched as the two Warthogs overshot, they waggled their wings and climbed, but remained in the area, passing over every few minutes.
The sun was starting to break over the horizon and the temperature started to climb.
The major got his radiophone out.
“Firebird One, this is Recovery, copy.”
“Go ahead, Recovery.”
“Firebird. Five down, seven for transport. One casualty. Is the Angel inbound?”
“Roger that. Angel inbound, one hour out.”
“Roger that. Firebird, can you stay and cover?”
“You bet, guys.”
“Roger that. Recovery, out.”
They got ready to wait, and they expected trouble. People from as far as thirty kilometres away would have seen the flash in the sky, and once the sun lit up the area they would see the smoke. The people who shot them down would already be heading towards their position.
The major got his men dug in, ready for an attack.
They waited about six minutes before the shout came. “Hostiles, to our north, one-thousand metres. Small vehicle. Four on board, heading this way. They’ve got a top mounted gun.”
"Fire when you can hit them," the major ordered. He radioed the Warthogs, “Firebird. Hostiles to our north. One-thousand metres out.”
“Copy that. Give me fifteen seconds.”
Fifteen seconds on the button and there was a huge plume of dust and flame in the area of the incoming vehicle, followed by the tell-tale whine of the Gatling gun burping, and the whistle as the Warthog came out of its dive.
The radio kicked out, “Recovery. The target is dust.”
“Copy that, Firebird. Thanks. The beers are on me when we get back.”
“Just glad to oblige, guys.”
They took up positions and waited for the helicopter. Forty-five minutes later, “Recovery. Firebird One. Copy?”
“Firebird One. Send.”
“Your transport has turned back with engine trouble. No Angel for two hours. We’re nearly bingo. We’ll get back ASAP.”
“Recovery, copy that. Don’t be too long guys. Out.”
The major looked at Bob, “We’ve got to get away from here.”
The major got his men sorted, Dave carried the suitcase, and they set off towards the Saudi border on foot, but first, they set charges on the helicopter and blew it up. It was a three-day trek to the border, but they were hopeful the Angel would be back to pick them up soon.
46
They set off in single file across the desert, in the opposite direction to where the hostile’s vehicle came from, working on the probability that more would follow. Without air cover for a while, they wouldn’t stand much chance.
Dave didn’t know whether to cry or shout when he thought about Poppy, but he knew one thing, he was going to get a few of the bastards. He bottled his anger up, pushing it to the back of his mind, he couldn’t afford to take his eye off the ball, more so now Steve, Harry and Poppy were all dead.
They stopped near a small oasis, basically a pile of rocks with a few bushes growing around it. It was big enough though
to cast some shade, enough for all of them to rest under, away from the heat of the unrelenting sun for a while. It had a shallow puddle at the bottom, so at least they could cool off while they rested.
The major took the watch as they took a short rest, it wasn’t to be though, a few minutes later he brought them up to alert. “Hostiles, two kilometres back along our track.” He turned to his men, “Okay, guys, we’ve got two choices: run or fight? If we run, we’re out in the open and they’ll mow us down. If we stay, we have cover and we could probably last until the helicopter arrives.”
He looked at each one of his men, and each one of them said, “Fight”.
“Okay. Take up positions between the rocks.”
“Sir," one of them said. 'If we can take them out without damaging one of the vehicles, we could be home by tonight.”
The major looked at Dave, “Dave, you’re in charge of getting one of those, okay?”
“Yes, boss.”
Just then, the radio spluttered into life. “Recovery, this is Firebird One, back on target. What’s your status, over?”
“Firebird One. Two vehicles approaching us from the north. We’re in the small rock outcrop.”
“Copy that, Recovery. Do you want us to take them out?”
“We’d like to take one of the transports, if that’s possible, over.”
“Recovery, standby.”
A minute later, there was a series of puffs in the sand, then an explosion, followed by a plume of smoke near the approaching hostiles. They all heard the whine of the Warthog again and smiled. The vehicles stopped approaching and then nothing, no movement from the area.
“Recovery. Firebird One, over?”
“Firebird, send?”
“Recovery. No movement on the ground. You’re clear to go in.”
“Copy that, Firebird One.”
The major and Dave approached the vehicles, five men in each, all dead.
“Firebird One, Recovery. The target has been neutralised.”
“Copy that, Recovery.”
When Dave heard the response from the U.S. Air Force pilot it had an edge of sadness in it. “War stinks!” he thought.