Ben Drummond 0.Drumbeat by Tomas Black

Author:Tomas Black [Tomas Black]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: Teardrop Media Ltd
Published: 2020-07-05T23:00:00+00:00

CHAPTER SEVENTEEN

Attack

Major Timothy Weekes watched his flare arc high over the centre of the enemy compound, a bright red jewel against the deepening blue of the Afghan sky. That should get their attention. He threw the spent pistol into the back of the Land Rover and jumped behind the wheel. In the passenger seat next to him, Aisha clutched one of the troop’s military radios in a trembling hand. She watched wide-eyed as the flare danced and spiralled on its descent, trailing a plume of white smoke in its wake.

Weekes started the engine and turned to Anil Prakash hunched over the radio in the back of the vehicle. “Order up the drone, Corporal. Tell HQ the attack has commenced.”

“Roger that, Major.” Prakash ran his hand deftly over the radio dials and tuned to a specific frequency. “Big Bear, this is Grey Wolf, receiving?”

A voice from the radio answered immediately and in a broad Glaswegian accent.

“Receiving Grey Wolf, Lima Charlie.”

“Roger, Big Bear. Requesting eyes in the sky. Commencing attack.”

“Roger, Grey Wolf. Eyes in the sky confirmed en-route.” There was the slightest of pauses from the Glaswegian on the other end of the radio. “Good hunting. Big Bear out.”

McKay, thought Weekes. Regardless of what people thought of the man, he was never one to sit behind a desk. The Scotsman always liked to be in the thick of things. He looked over at the shaking Aisha, her eyes wide with trepidation. He tapped the radio with his finger. “Asadi, attack.”

Aisha clutched the radio in both hands and screamed a litany of Pashto into the mic. An explosion ripped through the side of the compound, followed by bursts of gunfire from the surrounding rooftops. Asadi had joined the fray. Drummond was right, thought Weekes. This man was a force to be reckoned with. He slammed the Land Rover into gear.

“Time we moved, I think. They will have tracked our comms by now. Let’s get to higher ground and make sure they don’t outflank us.” He floored the accelerator. “Hang on, Corporal.”

The Land Rover leapt forward, kicking up a cloud of dust in its wake. Weekes planned to scoot around the outskirts of the village and head for higher ground where he could direct the attack. They sped past deserted mud shelters, running parallel to an irrigation canal. Up ahead, the village mosque loomed above the smaller dwellings.

“Roof of the mosque,” shouted Weekes. “RPG.”

Prakash clambered onto the rear machine gun and sighted on a lone figure with a shoulder-mounted RPG. He racked the gun’s mechanism and fired off several bursts as best he could as the vehicle bounced along the rocky track. The mosque exterior exploded around the insurgent, but not before he loosed a round. Weekes heard the familiar whooshing sound as the deadly rocket-propelled grenade passed less than a metre overhead and exploded in the cornfield on the other side of the ditch. Prakash let rip with another burst of gunfire as they passed the mosque, peppering the fighter into a bloody mess before the fatal rounds threw him off the wall.

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