Battlefield 3 The Russian by Andy McNab & Peter Grimsdale

Author:Andy McNab & Peter Grimsdale [Andy McNab & Peter Grimsdale]
Language: eng
Format: epub
ISBN: 9780857820693
Publisher: Orion Books
Published: 2012-05-11T15:37:32+00:00

37

Northwest Tehran

Cole had thrown down the gauntlet: come back with Bashir or don’t come back at all, he seemed to be saying. Or had Blackburn imagined that? He had lost count of the hours he had gone without sleep. The last two days had been relentless. He had neutralised an IED, smoked Al Bashir out of his lair and secured the nuke. Why was Cole singling him out?

All this ran through his head as he and Campo flattened themselves against the perimeter wall that ran round the edge of the shopping mall roof. They had exited the Osprey into a hail of fire from what seemed like all corners of the LZ. In four seconds he saw four men go down, as tracer lit up the sky above the Osprey. He and Campo followed instructions and made for the west corner, jinking left and right as they ran. They crushed themselves up against the edge of the perimeter wall, soaked in sweat and gulping in oxygen. But for the last hour they were pinned down by fire from two PLR gun emplacements either side of them.

‘Fuck our luck,’ screamed Campo in a fit of exhausted rage. ‘Fuck this war. Fuck the PLR. I see that Bashir I’m going to cut his fucking head off.’

Blackburn gripped his arm as they lay in the tiny area of cover they enjoyed, looked him hard in the face. ‘Just stay cool, Campo. We’ll get out of this, okay?’

Campo looked blank for a few seconds then nodded half-heartedly. They listened to the radio chatter of the men who had reached the floors below, systematically clearing every room, every space, finding no one.

Campo was still cursing. ‘Fucking intel’s fucked. They drop us into PLR central and there’s nobody home and we’re gonna get fried.’

Blackburn gripped his friend’s shoulder. ‘Cool it Campo. Think. They wouldn’t be defending if there wasn’t something to defend.’

There was a mad look in Campo’s eyes. He threw down his M4. One engagement too far. Blackburn cursed Cole for sending them back in. He grasped Campo by the upper arms and shook him. ‘You want to die here? No. Do you want to get home in one piece? Yes. How are you going to do that? By getting this done.’

There were tears in Campo’s eyes.

‘It’s okay. You’re only human. One day you’re a hero doesn’t mean the next you’re not going to have a meltdown. This isn’t the movies. I need you bro. You need me, if we’re going to get out of this.’

Campo took several breaths, nodded, picked up his gun. ‘Yeah, okay.’

The quake had torn away a whole section of the mall. When the firing subsided, they took a look over the edge into the void and saw the silhouettes of figures balanced precariously, as if undecided whether to jump. I must be losing it, thought Blackburn, until Campo put him right.

‘Fuckin’ mannequins. It’s a goddam dress shop.’

The realisation cheered Campo. Blackburn, still not sure, allowed himself to look a split second longer than he should have and a volley of shots skimmed his helmet.

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