Spider Shepherd 11 - White Lies Read online

  ‘What do you think, Addy?’ asked Shepherd.

  ‘The brigadier is correct, we need to get in and out quickly,’ said the captain. ‘We cannot fight an extended battle there. It’s a difficult area to fight in. The troops of the British Raj called it Hell’s Door Knocker, and if anything it’s worse these days. It’s controlled by the Taliban and looks set to stay that way.’ He smiled. ‘You might like to think of it as the equivalent of the Wild West, the people there are effectively a law unto themselves. It has long been that way. It was an independent tribal territory from 1893 and remained outside the control of the British Raj, and also independent of Afghanistan. Since 1947 it has been part of Pakistan but really that’s in name only.’

  Kassar jumped to his feet. Shepherd looked up to see Colonel Jamali looking down at him with an amused smile on his face. Shepherd stood up. He realised that Kassar was saluting so he did the same. The colonel returned the salute. ‘So you are the SAS man?’ he said. He had a slight American accent, as if he watched a lot of Hollywood movies.

  ‘Former SAS,’ said Shepherd. ‘I’m with the Security Service these days.’

  The colonel nodded. ‘So you are a spy?’

  ‘I wouldn’t say that,’ said Shepherd.

  ‘This Manraj we are going to rescue, how will he have stood up to interrogation?’

  It was a good question, thought Shepherd. One that the brigadier should have asked. ‘He’s young and strong, so physically he should be OK. But his youth also means he doesn’t have much experience.’

  The colonel nodded. ‘They will play mind games with him,’ he said. ‘Al-Qaeda are good at that. When we go in, as soon as we find him you are to stick with him. Like glue.’

  ‘Understood.’

  The colonel studied Shepherd for several seconds. Shepherd could see his twin reflections in the lenses of the sunglasses. ‘So tell me, what do you think of our brigadier’s strategy?’ the colonel asked eventually.

  Shepherd looked at the colonel, wondering what he should say. The truth could well end up with him being put on the next plane back to London.

  The colonel grinned as if he sensed his confusion. ‘You can speak frankly,’ he said. Shepherd looked across at Kassar and the captain nodded encouragement.

  ‘If it was me, I’d go in at night,’ he said. ‘Attacks on a fortified building are all about having the element of surprise, and you’re more likely to get that in the middle of the night while everyone is asleep.’

  ‘Agreed,’ said the colonel. ‘But the territory is mountainous and we don’t like flying our helicopters at night.’

  ‘If we leave it until after dawn, they’ll be awake. What time is sunrise prayers?’

  ‘Just before 0700 hours.’

  ‘And Fajr prayers?’

  The colonel lowered his head and looked at Shepherd over the top of his sunglasses. ‘You are not a Muslim, are you, Mr Shepherd?’

  ‘I’m not, Colonel. But I know the importance of praying five times a day to those who are.’

  The colonel pursed his lips, then nodded slowly. ‘Fajr prayers commence at just after five thirty.’

  ‘So they’ll all be wide awake some three hours before we get there,’ said Shepherd. ‘We lose the element of surprise. When the attack starts they’ll be on a level field. In fact they’ll have the advantage because they’ll be inside and we’ll be outside. If it’s night and we have night vision goggles, we have the advantage. If night flying is a problem, why don’t we head off before dark? What time is sunset here?’

  ‘Eighteen forty-five hours,’ said the colonel. ‘We wouldn’t have time to get there before dark.’

  ‘So put it off one day,’ said Shepherd. ‘We could fly to the airfield just before it gets dark tomorrow and move in before first prayers. Five o’clock, say. Then back to the airfield at sunrise.’

  The colonel nodded slowly. ‘In a perfect world, that would make sense,’ he said. ‘Unfortunately, Brigadier Khan has just returned from informing the prime minister that the attack will go ahead first thing tomorrow morning. If he has to backtrack on that promise, he will lose face. And the brigadier never loses face.’

  ‘I see,’ said Shepherd.

  ‘Is that not how it works in the United Kingdom?’ asked the colonel.

  ‘Decisions like that are usually taken at a pay grade well above mine,’ said Shepherd.

  ‘But it is the politicians who call the shots?’

  Shepherd shook his head. ‘In my experience, once the politicians have called in the SAS they allow the Regiment to do what has to be done. It would be a very brave politician who tried to second-guess the Regiment. The SAS are the professionals, they’re best left to get on with the job.’

  The colonel’s jaw tightened and Shepherd wondered whether the man had thought he had been critical. But then the colonel smiled. ‘So, assuming we are locked into the mission timetable as outlined by the brigadier, what other suggestions do you have?’

  Shepherd went over to the whiteboard. The brigadier’s aide-de-camp was about to take down the photographs of the fort, but Shepherd waved for him to stop. He pointed at the turret at the top of the fort. ‘This worries me,’ he said. ‘I don’t see a guard here in the pictures, but it’s the obvious place to put one. If there is a guard there and he sees us approach he’ll sound the alarm. I’d suggest a sniper on at least one of the teams. If there is a guard we can take him out before we move in.’

  ‘You are a sniper?’ asked the colonel.

  ‘I used to be, but it’s years since I have done any distance shooting. Again, if we were going in at night it wouldn’t matter so much because unless the guard has night vision equipment he wouldn’t see much.’

  The colonel jutted out his chin and nodded slowly. ‘What else?’

  ‘I wouldn’t go in through the doors, not even with shaped charges. It’s the obvious way in, which means they are more likely to be reinforced or defended.’ He walked to the whiteboard and tapped a window on the upper floor. ‘I’d go in through this window. Throw up a ladder, you wouldn’t even need a shaped charge. Throw in a couple of flash-bangs to disorientate anyone inside and then straight in. It’s always easier to move down a building than up it, so I’d put most of the team through the upper windows. Downstairs, I’d go in through the windows and again I’d throw in flash-bangs first.’

  The colonel rubbed his chin thoughtfully. ‘You’ve done this a lot?’

  ‘A fair amount for real, but I’ve practised it hundreds of times. Can I ask you why we’re not rehearsing first? Even a few hours in a mock building would help.’

  ‘There isn’t time,’ said the colonel. ‘The worry is that Akram Al-Farouq might well only be there temporarily. We don’t want to lose him.’

  ‘Then you should put the fort under observation. Get an observation team dug in and they can report on any comings and goings.’

  ‘Again, it’s too late for that, I’m afraid,’ said the colonel. ‘There’s nothing we can do to change the time frame. Brigadier Khan has promised the prime minister that we will go in tomorrow, so tomorrow it is.’ He tilted his head on one side. ‘But I like the sniper idea, I will make sure that we have snipers on at least two of the teams.’

  ‘What about details of the layout inside?’

  ‘That we don’t have,’ said the colonel.

  ‘Another reason for waiting,’ said Shepherd. ‘We could do with intel on the interior. Going in cold is asking for trouble.’

  The colonel stared at Shepherd for several seconds, then he looked at Kassar. ‘Make sure you take good care of our English friend,’ he said.

  ‘I will, sir,’ said Kassar.

  The colonel nodded, flashed Shepherd a tight smile, then turned and walked away, followed by his two captains.

  Kassar seemed to have been holding his breath and he didn’t exhale until the colonel had left the room. ‘I don’t think I’ve ever seen anyone talk to the colonel like that,’ he said.

  ‘I was just
offering my opinion. And he did ask.’

  ‘Usually when an officer asks for an opinion, he means he just wants to hear that he’s right.’

  ‘You know that I’m right, though? It would be better moving in at night.’

  ‘We don’t do much with night vision gear,’ said Kassar.

  ‘Why not?’

  The captain shrugged. ‘I don’t know. We just don’t. I used them a few times during basic training but that was it.’

  ‘You guys have a killing house, right?’

  ‘A what?’

  ‘A killing house. Where you can practise entering and clearing buildings.’

  Kassar shook his head. ‘We don’t have anything like that.’

  ‘That’s what we need. That way the teams can practise going in and we get to iron out any problems before we do it for real.’

  ‘Do not worry,’ said Kassar. ‘Like the SAS, we are professionals too. We will rescue your man, I am sure of it.’

  Shepherd nodded and smiled, but he wished he had done more to persuade the colonel that a night assault was the way to go.

  Kassar took Shepherd back to the officers’ mess. ‘We should eat,’ said the captain. ‘Then get a few hours’ sleep.’

  ‘Sounds like a plan,’ said Shepherd. ‘Let me freshen up first.’ Kassar went to get a table in the dining room while Shepherd headed upstairs to his room. He took his sat phone from his holdall, lay down on the bed and called Button. ‘We’re going in tomorrow, at dawn,’ he said.

  ‘Are you OK with that?’

  ‘I’d have preferred a night-time assault but the guy in charge says first thing so first thing it is.’

  ‘You don’t sound happy.’

  Shepherd sighed. ‘I’m not. They’re well equipped and their intel seems spot on, but I don’t think they’re prepared. I raised the question of a rehearsal and they looked at me as if I’d broken wind. They seem to think that they are all highly trained professional soldiers and that they don’t need to practise.’

  ‘And what’s their plan?’

  ‘Helicopters going in low to a drop-off about six miles away. Then on foot to get to the target.’

  ‘That sounds good to me.’

  ‘If it was a night assault, sure. But they’re waiting for dawn before they go in. Something to do with their helicopters not being up for night flying.’

  ‘Can’t you get them to change their minds?’

  ‘The problem is that the brains behind the mission isn’t actually taking part. He’s a desk warrior and is more interested in the politics of it all. The colonel who’ll be leading the assault seems to have his head screwed on OK but he isn’t allowed to second-guess the brigadier. It just feels like it’s being rushed. They have satellite photographs of the area, they know what the target building is like, it would make sense to rehearse it until everyone knows what they’re doing.’

  ‘You don’t have to go in with them, Spider. Not if you’re not happy.’

  ‘I don’t see there’s a choice,’ said Shepherd. ‘I’m the only one who knows Raj, if I’m not there then there’s a chance of collateral damage. Have you ever heard of an Akram Al-Farouq, by the way?’

  ‘Al-Qaeda Akram Al-Farouq? Of course. We’ve been looking for him for years.’

  ‘According to the brigadier, Akram Al-Farouq is the one questioning Raj. It looks as if that’s how they found Raj in the first place.’

  ‘This is the first I’ve heard of it,’ said Button. ‘Akram Al-Farouq is a very high-value target, possibly number three in the al-Qaeda hierarchy. I’m assuming the Americans don’t know because they’d have sent drones in after him.’

  ‘Lucky for Raj they don’t know, then,’ said Shepherd. ‘The thing is, it’s looking to me that this is more about Akram Al-Farouq than it is about Raj.’

  ‘You might be over-thinking it,’ said Button. ‘If Raj wasn’t a priority, they wouldn’t have agreed to have you on board.’

  ‘Do you think Willoughby-Brown knows about this Al-Farouq?’

  ‘It’s possible, I suppose,’ said Button.

  ‘I hope he’s not playing the “need-to-know” game,’ said Shepherd. ‘That’s how people get hurt.’

  ‘Do you want me to ask him?’

  ‘Nah, I just want you to be aware that Akram Al-Farouq is in the picture.’

  ‘Spider, as I said, if you have any doubts at all about this, take a back seat. You don’t have to go in with them, you can take a step back and be an observer. No one will think the worse of you. I don’t want you putting yourself in harm’s way.’

  ‘It has to be done, Charlie,’ said Shepherd. ‘Raj has put his life on the line. The least I can do is return the favour.’

  ‘OK, but call me as soon as it’s over.’

  ‘I will,’ he said.

  ‘And I know I’m always saying this, but be careful.’

  ‘You can count on it,’ said Shepherd. He ended the call and lay back on his bed, staring at the ceiling.

  Shepherd opened his eyes at four o’clock on the dot. He took a deep breath, rolled off the bed and grabbed a plastic bottle of water. He drank, then wiped his mouth with the back of his hand. He decided against showering, but cleaned his teeth and shaved. There was a knock on his door and he opened it to find Captain Kassar standing there in his Kevlar helmet and armoured vest, a Heckler & Koch G3 on a sling. ‘Just wanted to check you were up,’ said Kassar. ‘Our transport is outside when you’re ready.’

  Shepherd thanked him and finished dressing. Boots, vest, helmet, gloves. He slotted his SIG Sauer into its holster and swung the sling of his MP5 over his right shoulder. He was about to leave when he remembered the sat phone. He took it out of his holdall and slipped it into a pocket on his vest.

  Kassar was waiting for him in the rear of the Land Rover Defender. ‘OK?’ asked the captain.

  ‘All good,’ said Shepherd.

  They drove in silence to the runway. The Mi-17 helicopters had been wheeled out of their hangars and were lined up on the ramp with blue-overalled mechanics busy making last-minute adjustments. Their five-bladed rotors drooped limply like giant hands ready to grab the fuselages.

  Colonel Jamali was standing with Captain Ali next to one of the helicopters, studying what appeared to be a handheld GPS unit. The eight men in teams Alpha and Beta were checking their equipment. The first rays of the sun were starting to creep over the horizon, smearing the early morning sky with a yellow glow.

  Shepherd and Kassar climbed out of the Land Rover and walked over to the helicopter on the left, where eight men were lined up waiting to board. They were the men of teams Echo and Foxtrot and Kassar introduced them before leading them up the rear ramp into the belly of the helicopter. The Mi-17 was big enough to carry thirty troopers and their equipment but using three helicopters meant they wouldn’t find themselves caught short if one developed mechanical problems. A Toyota Hilux pick-up truck in desert camouflage livery was in the middle of the helicopter, tied down with webbing straps and clamped to the floor. There were folding metal seats attached to the fuselage, each with a webbing harness. Shepherd wasn’t familiar with the harness and struggled with it until Kassar came over and helped him buckle up. The rear ramp slowly came up, sealing off the rear of the helicopter.

  Shepherd heard the twin turboshaft engines of one of the other helicopters fire up. He looked at his watch. It was almost seven o’clock and the sun was edging higher above the horizon. There was a roar above his head and the helicopter began to vibrate and he felt as much as he heard the whoop-whoop-whoop of the rotor blades.

  The helicopter that Shepherd was in was the third to rise into the air. The roar of the engines and the whooping of the blades made conversation impossible. The helicopters flew at less than a thousand feet above the ground as they headed west. Once they left the base the terrain below was inhospitable, a dry rock-strewn wasteland as alien as the moon. Where there was water there was vegetation, clumps of bushes and pale green grassy areas that looked as i
f they could shrivel up and die at any moment.

  The helicopters began to descend at 7.20 and five minutes later they touched down at Parachinar airfield, away from the main runway and close to a line of maintenance hangars. The rear ramp slowly tilted down and a flurry of dust swirled into the cabin, making Shepherd cough. Kassar unclipped his harness and stood up. He pointed at the open door. Shepherd fumbled with his harness and followed Kassar down the ramp. Two of the troopers began releasing the clamps on the wheels of the pick-up truck.

  Shepherd joined Kassar on the tarmac. They watched as the pick-up drove slowly down the ramp. The captain climbed into the front passenger seat while Shepherd got into the back with the rest of the troopers.

  Once all three helicopters had disgorged their pick-up trucks they drove off the airfield, Colonel Jamali leading the way. They went along a narrow road for about a mile, passing only a goat herder and his son with a flock of twenty or so malnourished goats. They turned off on to a single track that wound through bleak featureless scrubland, the pick-up bouncing and lurching over the rough terrain.

  Shepherd shifted uncomfortably. One of the troopers grinned at him. ‘It’s better than walking,’ said the man.

  ‘Only just,’ said Shepherd.

  ‘This man we’re going to rescue, he’s very brave.’

  Shepherd nodded. ‘He risked a lot.’

  ‘And he’s not a soldier?’

  ‘He’s just a regular guy,’ said Shepherd. ‘He was a medical student.’

  The trooper nodded. ‘My parents wanted me to be a doctor.’ He was in his twenties with a neatly trimmed moustache. Kassar had introduced him as Sunny.

  ‘Yeah? What happened?’

  The trooper grinned and tapped the side of his head. ‘I wasn’t smart enough,’ he said. ‘Dropped out of university and signed up.’

  Shepherd nodded. ‘Story of my life,’ he said.

  ‘No regrets?’ asked Sunny.

  Shepherd looked at the MP5 he was holding between his legs, the barrel pointing up at the sky. He thought about what lay ahead – storming a fort in the Pakistani wilderness to rescue an MI5 agent whose life depended on him – and smiled. ‘No,’ he said. ‘Not yet, anyway.’