Chapter 8

When he heard about the briefing, Marcus instantly clicked into professional mode and headed for the Command tent.

Making his way to the front, Marc stood next to the table and stared down at the image that met him.

Marc instantly knew it as a reconnaissance photo, it was about the only images they saw nowadays, but he didn't linger on that fact for more than a few seconds.

His eyes shifted from the brown buildings and settled on the focus of the photograph; an Afghan national photographed, most likely, leaving the building he was stood outside of.

Whoever took the photos must have thought all their Christmases had come at once. Stood outside in the middle of the day, wearing a dark orange colour turban and clothes, he could have been spotted a mile away.

He seemed to be looking across the street at something, causing his face to be fully exposed. His eyes seemed to be a black bottomless pit, with a crooked nose and a small mouth.

His hair was hidden beneath the turban but the lower half of his jaw was covered in a thick, scraggly beard the colour of rich dark coffee, which reached the top of his chest.

Marc looked up then and saw the same image was being spread around the tent and he realised that this was going to be a snatch-and-grab mission.

"The man you are looking at is Abdul-Azim Farhat, terrorist and an old friend of Osama Bin Laden." The Commander walked into the tent, his voice shouting for everyone to hear.

The response was instantaneous; the conversations in the tent stopped immediately and everybody stood to attention.

Commander Strong made his way to the front and stood before everybody, motioning for them to relax as he continued with the background, "Responsible for five organised suicide bombings, that we know of, this man is accountable for a one hundred and thirty five lives."

The commander's voice turned sad as he said, "Including the lives of ten servicemen and nearly fifty children when one of his suicide bombers targeted a school in the capital."

Marc shuffled as he heard the news, the air in the tent growing tense as everybody soaked in the information that had just been given to them.

The Commander sensed what was occurring but he carried on, feeding on their determination, "And he has just been spotted. Information is still coming in but I have been tasked with leading the mission."

The Commander turned and rested his hands on the desk, looking out at them all, "Our objective is to bring him in."

Marc looked over his shoulder to the others in the back. Jules was whispering to Carlos, he knew she wouldn't like that.

"If possible," Commander Strong back-stepped slightly, "However, if you get a positive ID and you are unable to bring him in, everyone in this room had been granted permission to shoot on sight; we cannot afford to let Farhat loose, we do not know what he may be planning next."

Reading between the lines, if somebody accidentally lost their temper and killed the man that killed ten of their own, no questions would be asked.

Marc liked those orders.

"Right," He tapped the desk and turned back towards the board where a large scale map of the city had been posted, "The information we have tells us that Farhat and his convoy will be coming from the north and stop here," He tapped against a building on a corner.

"How many in the convoy?" Jim Ricardo asked from beside Marc.

"As I said, information is sparse. It could be ten, it could be hundred." Commander told him truthfully.

Jim appreciated that, "Sir, can I request that my unit get first shot at 'em."

Commander smiled, "I like your enthusiasm, but everybody will be getting a slice of the action. The city is occupied by Afghan nationals, our first priority to get them out of harm's way without alerting Farhat or any of his men to what is happening."

"How do we do that?" Alex asked, his six-foot three body slumped over the table, staring at the image of Farhat.

"We go door to door, tell people to stay in their houses, escort people off the streets . . . I don't need to explain, you've done all this before, back to the plan."

They spent a further hour in the hot tent, a single fan turning in the corner, as everybody got their orders and then double-checked and triple-checked what they were doing.

"Alright, that's it. You have ten minutes to get kitted up and meet the helicopters."

People began to get to their feet, shifting their cramped muscles, when the commander called them back again softly, "Remember, this is live and hot situation. I want everyone to stick with each other and look out for each other. I won't wish you good luck because I've been with you all now long enough to know that you don't need it."

Marc gave the commander a nod, smiling softly at the emotion that seeped into his voice.

"Oh, piss off, Langdale." Commander Strong snapped, although there was a smile on his lips, "Go and meet the helicopters."

Heading to his own tent, Marc prepared for battle. He had gone through this so many times it was almost second nature to him as he pulled on his heavy body armour and curled the radio up underneath his shirt.

Made up of an earpiece and something that looked like three-quarters of a dog collar, Marc secured the collar around his neck and double checked that everything was working.

Finding his scarf, which he had laid out on the back of his cot, Marc secured it around his neck and grabbed his rifle, heading out to meet the others.

He spotted that the others had already gathered by the entrance, in the background a helicopter was landing to take the next group into the warzone.

Marc stopped beside her, looking over her shoulder towards the helicopter, "Ready?"

He heard the smile in her voice when she replied, "Just another day at the office."

That particular day at the office, Jules realised a few hours later, was a particularly boring one.

Their unit had been deployed to the border of the city where, based on the intelligence, Farhat would try to exit the city once everything hit the fan.

Jules was fairly sure however that they would get nothing more than the few meagre pickings which were his followers.

The other units would be getting most of the action further into the centre.

"Well, this sucks, I thought we'd be seeing some action." Carlos kicked a stone away, only to be met with a hundred others, as they cleared away the residences.

They walked down the middle of the road, their rifles in their hands, but the buildings this far away were mostly abandoned, with middle-eastern graffiti on the walls and a few burnt out cars.

Jules peered into the backseat of a vehicle as they passed, "The Commander knows we only have a few weeks left of our tour, maybe he put us here for a reason. I don't mind a quiet last few weeks."

Carlos gave her a look over his shoulder.

"Ok alright, yes, I hate this too." Jules sighed.

"Thank you," Carlos knew her too well, "Thought about who you're going to have as bridesmaids yet?"

"Was that an offer?" Jules winked.

Carlos opened his mouth to say something when they heard a soft crackle in their ears as the radio was activated.

Jules and Carlos instantly froze to the spot as they heard the gunshots popping over the radio.

Somebody, she didn't know who, began to shout into the mic, "Target escaped. Repeat, target escaped in vehicle, heading for the western exit fast-"

Jules frowned at Carlos, "He can't get out in the western side of the border."

Carlos gave a shrug when they saw movement from the corner of their eye and they spotted Marcus and the others jogging over to them, "We've been re-deployed to the western border of the city. Get moving."

"No, wait, there's no way out at the western border." Jules told him, bringing up the image of the city in her brain.

"What?" Twitch looked at her.

"There's nothing there but houses and rubble. The only way out is where we are now." Jules was positive.

Everyone looked at each other, time ticking past fast.

"It could be a diversion," Carlos took Jules's side, "If we re-deploy to the western border, we'd be leaving it wide open for Farhat to escape."

Marc looked at Jules. He trusted her, but he also had his orders. And if she was wrong, then they too would be letting Farhat escape.

"Okay, this is what we do," Marc improvised, "It's only five minutes between here and the western border. Twitch and Carlos, you take the others and go to the western side, and we'll stay here."

Twitch nodded.

"As soon as you make visual confirmation you start calling for back-up, do you hear me?" Marc locked eyes with Carlos.

"You too," Carlos and Marc clasped each other's arms in a friendly farewell.

Carlos gave his small salute to Jules, which she returned, and they started to leave immediately. Time was not on their side.

Marc and Jules looked at each other for a second. The air was calm around them, it was almost impossible to believe that there was a vehicle careening through the streets towards them somehow.

"So," Marc looked around them, "Where shall we set up?"

Jules head instantly tilted upwards and she knew there was only one place where she would get a visual of everything, and still get a good shot.

"I'm going up top," Jules told him with a smile.

Marc looked to the roof's building, remembering that Jules had trained as a sniper.

It was their best chance.

"Okay," He nodded, "I'll stay on the ground. Remember, as soon as you see anything-"

"-I'll radio," She rolled her eyes and started heading towards the building, "Don't worry, this isn't my first time!" She called back.

Marc laughed as he watched her disappear into the building, before he too found his way back to the corner house he had been occupying with Twitch moments earlier.