The New Enemy Read online

  ‘You must then remember,’ said Odull, pushing for answers. ‘My brother is smaller than me, slim. He has a mark here from an accident as a child when he fell from a tree.’ He traced a line across the right of his own head. ‘Hair does not grow there now. You would have noticed!’

  ‘All I noticed,’ said Liam, ‘was some proper fucking nutjob with a SCAR slotting a KDF soldier in cold blood and getting a fucking buzz out of it! The other bastards with him were all cheering and dancing like it was the best thing that could’ve happened!’

  ‘But was it my brother?’

  Odull’s voice was raised and Biggs stepped in, shutting him down on the spot.

  ‘We can’t do anything about it,’ he said. ‘There’s four of us. We have no backup. We can’t go in, and neither are we authorized to do so. We’d be shot to pieces, and the hostages as well.’

  ‘He was wearing a blindfold, but I didn’t see a mark,’ said Liam, pausing to remember. ‘The one who was shot – there was no mark.’

  Odull still didn’t relax.

  ‘Enough chinwag,’ said Biggs. ‘Azeez’s presence is confirmed, and the sighting of the hostages is good additional INT. We now get back sharpish. Those fuckers are trigger-happy and finding us would only add to their fun. Let’s move out!’

  They arrived back at the FOB early the following morning, after hiding away during daylight hours.

  The atmosphere at the base was all anticipation and impatience – Liam could taste it in the air, a mix of sweat, hot air, dust: the telltale signs of soldiers at work. Not one person was at rest, with everyone racing around the site collecting and sorting equipment, being pulled over for meetings, checking maps, cleaning weapons.

  With all the INT that he and the rest of Recce Platoon had collected, there was no doubt in anyone’s mind that it was only a matter of hours before the KDF went in. But what had really got everyone on a red alert was his own confirmation of the presence of Abdul Azeez and the hostages. That one of them had been killed already had sent a wave of bloodlust through the KDF troops. The hostages weren’t just other soldiers, they were mates, and as a soldier himself Liam utterly understood their compulsion not only to rescue their friends, but also to take the fight to the enemy.

  After resting up from the CTR, he was throwing some food down his neck in the temporary mess canteen set up by the KDF. Soldiers buzzed in, did the same, and were quickly out again. There was no time to savour the food. It was fuel, nothing more. Sitting around him were the rest of the section, even Fish with his rotting foot.

  ‘You should smell it when he takes his sock off,’ said Waterman. ‘It’s like puke and guts and shit, all rolled into one.’

  ‘You forgot pus,’ said Fish. ‘It’s got a hint of that in there too.’

  ‘So you stuck here, then?’ Liam asked.

  ‘No choice,’ Fish told him. ‘I walk like a zombie in Day of the Dead with this thing. No way can I chase down Al Shabaab for a party.’

  ‘Just seen Lieutenant Young talking to the captain,’ said Waterman. ‘I reckon kickoff is only a couple of hours away – as soon as it gets dark again.’

  ‘Hope so,’ said Pearce. ‘Sitting around is bollocks.’

  Biggs reached over and snatched a piece of toast from Liam’s tray.

  ‘Help yourself.’

  ‘I did.’

  ‘You spoken to Odull?’

  Liam shook his head.

  ‘The big man took himself off. He’s gone quiet. It’s unnerving. He wants his brother back. Knowing we were so close will be ripping his insides apart.’

  Early that evening, when Recce Platoon were called together and briefed on what was going to happen next, Liam caught sight of Odull, but there was no response. He couldn’t guess at the pain and frustration the man would be feeling. He also wondered if Odull blamed him for not allowing him to go in to rescue his brother.

  But they’d had no choice. Liam knew if he hadn’t waited until they were with Biggs before mentioning the hostages, then there was a good chance Odull would’ve gone in and got himself killed in the process.

  Captain Owusu got straight to the point. ‘Our mission statement is to lead the KDF on to the location where Abdul Azeez is, we hope, still holed up. We’ll be sending two sections in as their eyes and ears, advancing ahead of the main army and guiding them in. The rest will stay back in a support role. As the KDF attacks, flares will be sent up. We stay and observe, report what we see, then head back when the time is right to do so.’

  ‘We’re one of the sections, by the way,’ said Biggs to Liam and the others. ‘Fish is hanging back and is being replaced by another lad, Sam Carter. I chose him. Top soldier, trust me.’

  ‘Back we go again, then,’ said Pearce. ‘Might as well put an offer in and buy a bit of land there, build myself a nice little holiday home.’

  ‘What about the hostages?’ asked a soldier at the back of the group.

  ‘We can’t risk a rescue as such,’ said Owusu. ‘Not only do we not know if they’re still being held at that location, we don’t even know if the rest are still alive. Abdul Azeez killed one. He could have killed the others by now. We cannot risk lives on a possibility. If they are alive, then we will endeavour to release them as part of this operation.’

  What worried Liam, though, was that once the KDF engaged with Al Shabaab, anyone caught in the crossfire wouldn’t stand a chance.

  By midnight, Liam was once again eyes on the camp at which he’d carried out the CTR. In addition to their personal weapons, which were there for protection rather than for direct engagement, they also had the SLR and spotting scope. Cordner was responsible for the main radio and keeping in regular contact with the FOB. They all still had PRRs to communicate with each other and the rest of their section.

  ‘We should start a business when we get back home,’ said Pearce, gesturing to their newly-dug scrape. ‘Holes are always needed, right? We’d make millions.’

  Liam smiled, but didn’t pull away from the scope. Now, between their subsurface observation post and the Al Shabaab camp, the KDF were advancing slowly and carefully. And considering there were nearly 200 of them, they were proving difficult to spot. Of that he was glad – everyone wanted the op to go smoothly. A prolonged and bloody fight out here was not a part of the plan. The rest of Recce Platoon were positioned to the left and right of where Liam, Pearce, Biggs and Cordner were holed up, all relaying INT back to Captain Owusu.

  ‘Did you see how wired some of them were?’ asked Cordner.

  ‘That’ll be the khat,’ said Biggs.

  ‘Can’t believe they’re allowed to take it,’ said Pearce. ‘Imagine if we all dropped a few “E”s before engaging? We’d all be too busy raving and talking ratshit fast!’

  ‘Khat’s legal,’ Biggs pointed out.

  ‘It’s crazy, is what it is,’ said Pearce. ‘Anyway, RB, how’s it looking out there?’

  ‘Quiet,’ Liam replied. ‘They’re closing in. Nothing from the terrorists. The camp is dead.’

  ‘You mean empty?’

  ‘No,’ said Liam. ‘There’s movement, but nothing like I observed. Probably all asleep.’

  ‘If the KDF do this right,’ said Biggs, ‘and catch the terrorists in their beds, then we should be out of here pretty soon. Of course, the most important word there is if . . .’

  Liam wondered how Odull was doing. He was down there somewhere, heading to where he knew his brother was being held, and keeping his head straight and his mind on the job under that kind of pressure would be more than difficult.

  ‘The KDF are getting ready for the attack,’ said Liam.

  ‘Sure?’ asked Biggs.

  ‘Definitely,’ said Liam. ‘All movement has stopped. They’re in position and waiting for the ref to blow his whistle.’

  For the next couple of minutes, not one of them spoke. Though they weren’t down at the sharp end of the coming battle, they were a part of it, and knew the dangers facing the lads about to go in. They had the
element of surprise, and that would play to their advantage, but beyond that, luck always had a say in how things would pan out. Liam just hoped it was textbook, and any resistance encountered was both weak and dealt with swiftly.

  Rifle fire rattled them all from their thoughts.

  ‘The fuck is that?’

  Liam tried to pinpoint it. Couldn’t.

  ‘The flare’s not gone up yet!’ snarled Biggs. ‘Who’s firing?’

  ‘Can’t see!’ said Liam.

  ‘Fucking well look harder, then!’

  More weapons were let loose, and in a heartbeat the silence of the valley was shattered by the sound of rifle fire.

  Then bright lights burst in the sky, scorching the land below in a yellowy glow, as flares floated down on tiny parachutes, like fiery angels falling to Earth.

  12

  The crack and thump of rifle fire ripped at the night, clawing at the silence and shredding it. Darkness was sliced by tracer fire as below Liam the KDF engaged with Al Shabaab.

  ‘Cordner!’ ordered Biggs, his voice quiet but a rasp betraying his desperation to yell. ‘Get on that fucking radio and find out what the hell is going on!’

  ‘I’m already on it,’ said Cordner, pinning his headset to his ear to block out as much external noise as possible. ‘Nothing confirmed. Only that fighting broke out early.’

  ‘And what do they want us to do about it? Just sit and watch?’

  ‘Keep eyes on,’ Cordner reported back. ‘We’re not to engage unless absolutely necessary.’

  ‘And what the bollocking hell is the definition of absolutely necessary?’ asked Pearce, teeth clenched. ‘When one of us gets our knackers shot off?’

  ‘Wind your neck in!’ said Biggs. ‘You know damned well we can’t go wading into that shit storm!’

  ‘But they’re getting cut to pieces!’ said Pearce.

  ‘Holy fuck!’ said Liam. ‘It’s opening up all over the place!’

  The telltale sound of rounds thumping into the ground around them made them all flinch.

  ‘It can’t be!’ Biggs hit back. ‘There’s only us and the KDF out here, and Al Shabaab are down in that camp!’

  ‘I’m serious!’ said Liam. ‘There’s small arms fire all over the place!’ He scanned left and right. Muzzle flashes were coming from everywhere now, not just advancing on the camp below either, but spreading outwards and, most unnervingly, up towards them.

  Biggs jumped up on the other scope. ‘Christ, they’re everywhere! It’s a bloody ambush!’

  ‘That would mean they knew the KDF were coming!’ Liam replied, and the thought was terrifying. It was one thing to go into battle prepared for most eventualities. But an ambush was a worst-case scenario.

  More rounds came in, peppering the ground above them.

  ‘So how long are we going to sit here before we bugger off?’ asked Pearce.

  ‘They won’t know our exact positions,’ said Liam. ‘Only we know that, right? We’re safe for the moment, surely.’

  ‘Can’t guarantee anything with that shit storm blowing in,’ said Biggs.

  A voice crackled through on the PRR. It was Waterman. ‘We’re thinking this isn’t exactly what the captain had in mind.’

  ‘Well, a round of applause for Miss Marple,’ said the sergeant.

  Just then an explosion hammered the ground, sending a ripple of shock waves through the hole.

  ‘That was a fucking mortar!’ Biggs yelled. ‘Either some nutjob is letting them off for a laugh, or they actually do know where we fucking well are! Scott – you got eyes on that?’

  Liam scanned, saw dust and smoke rising from the ground below them. ‘Ten o’clock, two hundred metres,’ he said.

  Cordner was on the radio again, and Liam heard him yell, ‘Are we staying put, or getting the feck out?’ Then his face stilled. Something was wrong. ‘It gets worse,’ he said, turning to face the others. ‘Just come in that one of the KDF lads switched sides.’

  ‘Oh, fuck . . .’ said Biggs.

  ‘That would explain the mortar,’ said Liam. ‘And I don’t know about anyone else, but I don’t fancy waiting around for them to get any closer.’

  ‘Christ knows how he got away with it,’ said Cordner. ‘But they reckon he was basically a sleeper. Loyal to Al Shabaab and just waiting for the right moment to do his bit.’

  ‘And this was it?’ said Liam. ‘Well, that’s just fucking brilliant! What the hell happened?’

  ‘When the KDF were within spitting distance of the terrorist camp, he opened up on the guys around him, then made a run for it. Five casualties confirmed.’

  Another mortar round came in.

  ‘Ten o’clock, one-fifty!’ said Liam and ducked instinctively as it slammed another shock wave through the ground. ‘They’re trying to get a range on us. We need to move!’

  Biggs rounded on Cordner. ‘You tell those bastards at the FOB we need to fuck right off, and I mean now! If one of the KDF was Al Shabaab, then there’s every chance they know our positions! And I’m not going to have us waiting around like a bunch of bloody tourists!’

  ‘The fighting is definitely moving up towards us,’ said Liam. ‘I reckon the KDF are trying to fight their way out, but it’s not looking good. We need to shift.’

  Biggs called Waterman on the PPR. ‘You got anything from the FOB?’

  ‘Our radio’s playing up,’ he said. ‘Can’t get through. Still trying.’

  ‘Then sod this for a game of soldiers,’ said Biggs, and was back to Cordner. ‘Use that Irish charm of yours and tell them we’ve got incoming – mortars, small arms fire. And that we’re extracting now.’

  ‘They won’t be happy,’ said Cordner.

  ‘Well, I’ll just have to wear my jester’s outfit later to cheer them the fuck up, won’t I?’ replied Biggs. ‘We’re moving!’

  Another mortar, this one close enough to rain muck and smashed plant remains down on the four men. Then shouting from either side of the scrape.

  ‘Confirm who the hell that is – NOW!’ Biggs yelled at Liam.

  Liam fully understood the sergeant’s concern. With the KDF now actively engaged with Al Shabaab, the last thing they needed was to find themselves in live contact with the wrong target. A blue on blue had to be avoided at all costs.

  He saw movement. Three men were approaching.

  ‘Nine o’clock, one hundred,’ he said. ‘Not KDF.’

  ‘Positive?’

  Despite the darkness, Liam could see that the men were dressed in little more than T-shirts and baggy trousers.

  ‘Confirmed,’ said Liam.

  ‘Pearce! Cordner!’

  The two soldiers were up at the side of the hole as more rounds came in.

  ‘Take those fuckers down!’ yelled Biggs. ‘Now!’

  Pearce and Cordner opened fire as Waterman called in on the PRR, ‘They’re coming out like rats escaping a fucking flood!’ he said.

  Liam dropped down as a burst of rounds took the scope apart, showering them all with glass and shrapnel.

  ‘We fall back now,’ said Biggs. ‘Scott, you’re with me. Pearce – you and Cordner cover us as we move out. Fire manoeuvre all the way and no getting shot! An injury now is the last thing we need.’

  Liam scrambled over to Biggs. ‘Not quite the day I had in mind,’ he said, readying his weapon.

  ‘All part of the fun,’ Biggs replied. ‘Pearce? Cordner? Cover! Now!’

  As Pearce and Cordner opened fire, Liam and the sergeant heaved themselves out of their hole. Liam dropped to his knee, fired, and Biggs raced on past him. Then he was up and past Biggs, who was now doing the same. Rounds peppered the ground about them, and eventually they both dropped into a dip behind a fallen tree.

  Moments later, as they laid down covering fire, Pearce and Cordner slid in beside them.

  ‘We’re in the shit,’ said Liam, breathing hard.

  ‘I’ve changed my mind about buying land out here,’ said Pearce. ‘Don’t think the locals like me.’<
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  ‘Mate, Jesus probably has a job liking you,’ said Liam.

  ‘Jesus thinks I’m a fucking sunbeam,’ replied Pearce.

  ‘You should have that on your gravestone,’ Liam told him.

  ‘If it’s all the same with everyone here,’ said Pearce, ‘I’d rather not put an order in for one quite yet.’

  Liam hushed everyone. ‘Voices,’ he said and pointed the way they were heading, then got himself on his knees and was looking down his rifle through his ACOG. Beside him Pearce was doing the same. Biggs and Cordner were scanning both flanks.

  The voices were accompanied by the sound of people crunching through the undergrowth. Either they were sure no one was around to hear them, or they were overly confident in their own indestructibility.

  ‘Can’t be any of our lot,’ whispered Liam. ‘Not making a noise like that.’

  About twenty metres in front of them, a group of armed shadows appeared. It was clear that they were Al Shabaab from the way they were dressed in baggy tunics and trousers, their AL47s slung low in their hands. Then one of them saw Liam and the others and, shouting, raised his weapon and fired.

  The rounds, badly aimed, cut through the dark as Liam and Pearce returned fire, Cordner and Biggs swinging round to back them up. The terrorist who had opened fire first dropped to the ground like a felled tree. His mates, seemingly stunned to have met resistance, backed away quickly, firing from the hip, and were gone almost as quickly as they’d arrived.

  Liam turned to the others. ‘They’re everywhere,’ he said. ‘The place is crawling with them.’

  ‘That’s not our biggest problem,’ said Cordner, who was now crouched down next to where Biggs was lying.

  Their sergeant was face down on the ground, weapon pinned beneath him.

  ‘Was he hit?’

  ‘Don’t know,’ said Cordner, and raced through the drill to check a man for wounds, running his hands down Biggs’s body from head to toe, checking for dampness, the telltale sign of blood seeping from a wound.

  ‘Nothing,’ he said. ‘We need to roll him.’

  Liam was closest and slid over. He looked over at Pearce. ‘You keep an eye out, mate. Any more of those bastards come looking for some, you let them have it.’