First Strike (5 page)

“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.

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.”

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 join 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.

Shouldering Ben, they headed out of the ravine to where Connor was waiting. “We’ve got just twenty minutes to make our evac rendezvous, and it’s a kilometre from here. We’re going to have to run. Ben, can you make it?”

“I can try, sir.”

Connor saw that Ben still couldn’t put his weight on his injured ankle. “No. We’ll take it in turns carrying you. Danny and Sparks, take the first hundred metres.”

Barely midway through the village they could hear the approaching F-16s. Desperately, Sparks tried to raise CENTCOM and get them to delay the strike. He looked to the heavens and cursed. “Too late, sir, they’ve been given the green light. They’ll be here any second.”

Heaving for breath, they ran on, Ben slung between Connor’s and Danny’s shoulders. They made it just past Hamid’s house when the F-16s roared overhead and their bombs slammed into the village. The whole area erupted. Balls of fire engulfed the valley. The blasts flung Connor and his team through the air. Landing heavily in deep drifts of snow they felt the searing heat as debris rained down on them.

Winded, Connor rolled over. Jacko was sat up, coughing. Danny and Sam complained they’d gone temporarily deaf. Realising everyone was alive, Ben let out a primal scream and smacked his fists into the snow.

Slowly, they dragged themselves to their feet. “Sir,” Sparks called out, his face blackened with soot. “Made contact with our helo. She’s landed. They know we’re slightly behind schedule and will wait for us.”

“How very generous of them,” Connor muttered. He managed to stagger a few paces before stopping to catch his breath. “Guys, the next time I get a text from Colonel Rogers, remind me to ignore it!”