PRIMAL Mirza (A PRIMAL Series Novella) (4 page)

 

CHAPTER 5

 

PAKISTAN-CONTROLLED
KASHMIR

 

Five hours later,
Mirza pulled his scooter next to the captain’s and dismounted. His hands and
legs ached from the long, jarring ride. He flexed his hands stretching his
forearms.

“Bit stiff?” Himesh laughed.

“What is this place?” Mirza looked around. A
row of jingle trucks were parked along the rutted track. On the opposite side
was a mud-walled compound with a large painted sign proclaiming ‘Welcome’ in
Urdu.

“A stopover for weary travellers. The gentleman
who owns it is a friend of ours.”

They entered the dusty compound. Tired drivers
were sleeping on rattan mats under the shade of a tattered awning. A skinny,
flea-bitten dog scratched itself and eyed them warily as they crossed the
compound to the dining area.

Inside, it was dark and smelt of heavily spiced
food. As their eyes adjusted, they located the source of the magnificent aroma.
It was coming from an earthen pot that sat on a long wooden table. The flanking
benches were empty and the table strewn with dirty bowls. Mirza’s stomach
growled as he silently hoped that the cauldron still held enough for them to
eat.

“Hungry travellers.” The landlord appeared out
of the gloom, short, rotund, and with a long beard that almost reached his
waist. He opened the pot and proceeded to spoon a thick stew into two tin
bowls. “You fellows look like you’ve come from afar.”

Himesh sat at the table and took a bowl. “We
have, all the way from Ludhiana.”

“Is that right?” The man paused as he filled
the second bowl. “And what is the weather like in Chandigarh at the moment?”

“Hot and always with the chance of rain.”

“Well the conditions are much more favorable
here.” He handed the bowl to Mirza who immediately dug his spoon into the
hearty meal and shoveled it into his mouth.

Himesh looked up from his bowl and nodded at
the man. “That’s good to hear. We won’t be staying long. We’ll fill our bikes
and be on our way.”

“Once you have enjoyed your meal, bring your
bikes around to the back and my son will fill them. How much further are you
travelling?”

“Not far. We are looking for friends of ours in
the Naltar Valley. Do you know it?”

“I know it well. It’s a very dangerous area.”
He turned to Mirza. “More?”

He nodded.

Himesh finished off his bowl before continuing.
“Is there any chance you could recommend a guide?”

The man ladled more food into Mirza’s bowl. “My
son could guide you, for a small fee of course.”

“Of course.” Himesh opened his satchel and took
out a thick wad of Pakistani rupee. “Will this do?”

The man nodded and stuffed the cash into his
pocket.

Mirza shook his head. Some people would sell
their own kin given the opportunity.

After they’d finished eating, they wheeled
their bikes behind the compound and met the innkeeper’s teenage son. He was the
opposite of his father: tall, clean-shaven, and rake thin.

“Your things are in the shed,” he said as he
pumped fuel out of a barrel into the scooters.

As Himesh supervised the refueling, Mirza
looked inside the ramshackle shelter. It was filled with bags of rice and palm
oil containers. On the floor were two tightly wound blanket rolls. Mirza undid
the straps holding them together and unwound them, revealing the contents.

RAW maintained an extensive support network
throughout Pakistan. Agents like the innkeeper received smuggled equipment and
cached it for when it was needed. Mirza knew the equipment he was inspecting
was one such stockpile. He checked the folding stock AKs, pulling back the bolt
on each. They were in excellent condition. He took one of the Makarov pistols,
stuck it in his belt, and slipped a spare magazine into his pocket. Then he
checked that the satellite phone, tactical radio, GPS, and night vision scope
had fresh batteries. Finally, after he’d inspected each of the AK magazines, he
slipped them into a pair of canvas chest harnesses.

“Everything we need?” Himesh asked from the
doorway.

“Yes.” He handed the satellite phone, GPS and a
pistol to his partner. Then he bundled a rifle and a harness into each blanket
using rope to fashion a sling for both rolls.

Himesh took a blanket roll from him. “It’s
getting dark. We need to move now.”

Mirza slung his own bundle across his back.
“Are you sure we can trust the boy?”

“Yes, his father’s worked for us for years.”

They walked outside and joined the youth
waiting with his scooter.

“How far?” Himesh asked as they mounted up.

“Not far, only a few hours,” the boy kicked the
starter on his bike and revved the little engine. “I know a shortcut.”

“OK, lead the way.”

 

***

 

It took ninety minutes to reach a point where their guide refused to go
further. Mirza wasn’t sure what unnerved the boy more, that they were behind
enemy lines or that the narrow track was a sheer cliff on one side.

The youth cautiously turned his bike
around. “They sometimes send men to check this area. Mostly in the morning, but
you should still be careful.” With that, he putted off leaving them alone in
the rapidly fading light.

Himesh removed his traditional
garb, replacing the shawl and skullcap with a dark sweater and knitted wool
cap. He unraveled his rifle and put on the canvas chest rig. Then he rerolled
the blanket and used the flap of his satchel to secure it. “We’ll ditch the
bikes here.”

Mirza parked his scooter next to
his partner’s and prepared his own gear.

“We need to locate the camp in
the next three hours. The assault force is standing by. You ready?”

He gave a curt nod.

“I’ll lead.”

They marched off along a goat
trail as the setting sun bathed the snowcapped Himalayas in an orange glow. The
high altitude and lower oxygen level sapped their strength. Still, they moved
quickly covering over a mile in the first thirty minutes.

“We need to move faster,” Himesh
said as they paused behind an outcrop.

Mirza looked ahead. In places, the
trail was less than a foot wide and dropped off into the darkness. “If we push
it one of us could end up down there.”

“Noted.”

They moved as quickly as they
dared. As the captain charged around a bend, he ran into two men coming the
other way. Armed with AKs, they were clearly on patrol.

Himesh didn’t have time to raise
his rifle. He reacted instinctively and pushed the first man off the track like
a bulldozer. The scream was whipped away by the wind as he fell.

The second man was a different
story. Tall, with broad shoulders and powerful arms, he had his weapon slung.
Upon seeing the demise of his partner, he shoulder-charged Himesh delivering a
solid blow.

The captain’s legs were knocked
out from under him. His AK dropped to the ground. He grabbed the bigger man’s
ankle with one hand and scrabbled at the cliff edge with the other. He refused
to release the militant even as he was kicked savagely.

Mirza caught a glimpse of a blade
flashing in the starlight as the assailant drew a knife. His AK barked once.
The bullet ricocheted off the cliff.

“NO!” screamed Himesh as he held
on to the Pakistani’s leg.

Mirza lunged forward as he fired
again. The bullet blew the man’s head apart. As the lifeless body collapsed,
Mirza slid to a knee and grabbed the captain by his chest webbing. With a
grunt, he pulled him onto the path and watched as the corpse toppled off the
cliff and into the darkness.

Himesh knelt on the track gasping
for breath. “Thanks.”

Mirza handed the captain his AK.
“Do you think anyone heard us?”

He pushed himself up onto his
feet. “Unlikely,” he said, raising his voice to be heard over the howling wind.
“Let’s go.”

Within a few hundred yards, they
crested the ridgeline and could see down into the valley. Below, they made out
faint lights flickering in the darkness. After they’d taken shelter beneath a
craggy outcrop, Himesh peered through the night vision scope.

After a moment he handed the
device over. “That has to be it. It’s a training camp. Couldn’t be anything
else.”

Mirza scanned the valley with the
scope. “I think you’re right.” Through the green hue of the image intensifier
tube, he recognized an obstacle course and several firing ranges. There were a
number of pickups and a van parked in the center of a cluster of buildings.
“How do we know it’s the right camp?”

Himesh checked the GPS. “It
matches close enough with the coordinates SIGINT gave us.”

“And there’s nothing else in the
area.”

“Time to send the coordinates
through.” He used the keypad on the satellite phone to send a short
transmission to their headquarters. The device emitted a long beep to indicate
the message had been sent. “It’s done.”

Still watching the valley below,
Mirza spotted a group of militants filing into what he assumed was a dining
facility. A few men stayed outside with the vehicles.

The satellite phone beeped again.
Himesh read the message and packed the phone away. “The mission’s a go.”

Mirza watched as a group of five
men climbed into a van. The vehicle drove away from the camp with its
headlights on. Through the scope the lights were dazzling. “We could have a
problem. There’s a van leaving the camp.”

“Could be normal movement, a
visit to a village, a resupply of food or equipment.” The captain reached for
the scope.

“At this time of the night? We
need to report it, they could be our target.”

He lowered the scope and looked
at his partner. “You’re right. I’ll message it in. The
para commandos
will miss
them, but if the van tries for the border it’ll be picked up.”

 

CHAPTER
6

 

“Two minutes out.” The pilot’s
voice came over Major Galav Chetty’s headset as he sat in the back of the
Mi-17 helicopter
. Under the red
lights, his camouflaged para commandos looked like white-eyed ghouls ready to
swoop down from the darkness and snatch men’s souls. He held up two fingers,
letting them know touch down was imminent. To a man, they returned the signal
and prepared their gear.

“Any
sign of hostile activity?” he asked the pilot as the helicopter banked hard
forcing him into his seat.

“Negative,
it was a clean infil. I think the intelligence guys came good on this one.”

“First
time for everything.” The chopper lurched sideways throwing him into the
soldier next to him. “Steady on.”

“Sorry
about that.” The pilot laughed. “OK, I’ve got eyes on the landing zone. Get
ready.”

“We’re
commandos, we’re born ready,” the major replied as the beat of the rotors and
scream of the engines increased in intensity. There was a thud as the helicopter
touched down and the loadmaster flung open the clamshell doors.

“Good
luck,” was the last thing the major heard as he ripped off the headset and put
on his steel helmet. Then he stormed out the back of the helicopter into a
maelstrom of dust and darkness.

Four
choppers simultaneously disgorged troops into Pakistani territory. Then with a
roar, they lifted off together and disappeared into the darkness. They would
head back to the forward operating base in India, refuel, and return when
extraction was required.

‘Sir,
all three platoons are complete and ready to go,” the company sergeant major
reported.

“Well
let’s get going,” the major said. “We’ve got eight kilometers of unholy terrain
to cover and six hours to do it.”

The
company commander’s order was passed down the line and within moments the lead
platoon moved off in single file. Each man was heavily laden, some carried 84mm
rocket launchers or
PKM machineguns
. Others lugged extra ammunition
for the heavy weapons. Yet despite the weight, they set a cracking pace.

 

***

 

High up on the
mountain that overlooked the Lashkar camp, Mirza and Himesh were miserably
cold. It was the early hours of the morning and the temperature had plummeted.
Now, they huddled together with their blankets wrapped tightly around them.

In the camp below, there was no sign of
movement. They had not needed the night scope to confirm the sentry posts were
inactive. With a half-moon in the cloudless sky, the valley was well
illuminated.

Himesh checked his watch and made some
adjustments to the radio. “It’s going to be dawn in a few hours.”

“They’ll be here. Para commandos are never
late,” said Mirza, his teeth chattering.

“I thought Frontier Force were the punctual
ones.”

“No, they’re always early.”

The radio crackled and Himesh held it close to
his ear. ‘Still nothing. This could get real messy.”

“Especially when they discover two of their men
missing.”

The radio hissed to life. “Guardian this
Hammer, over.”

“Guardian send, over.”

“We are approaching the RV from the south
west.” The other callsign used the military acronym for rendevous.

“Acknowledged, we will marry up with you. RV
signal will be three flashes of green light.”

The SPEC-B operatives shrugged off their
blankets, gathered their equipment and hurried back to the track. It only took
a few minutes before the trail met the RV, a saddle between two jagged peaks.

Moments after they arrived, Mirza spotted a
flashing green light behind a cluster of rocks. He replied with his own
flashlight. Thirty seconds later, heavily armed para commandos emerged from the
darkness.

Himesh showed the men where to position
themselves to offer the best security as Mirza waited for the company
commander.

“You our man?” asked the tall major as he
dumped his pack and removed his helmet.

“Yes, sir. My partner is showing your men the
perimeter.”

“Excellent. Give me a few minutes and we can
start the briefing.”

Mirza watched as the major’s headquarters group
arrived and dropped to the ground around him, struggling out of their heavy
packs. They were exhausted. Steam wafted off their bodies. “You made good
time.”

The major nodded as he drank from his water
bottle.

Mirza jerked his head toward the darkness.
“Here’s my partner.”

The captain stepped into the moonlight and
crouched next to the company commander. “I’m Himesh.”

“Galav,” the major said, clasping the offered
hand.

The SPEC-B operative took a map from his
pocket, unfolded it, and spread it on the ground. Mirza held his flashlight over
it as Himesh pointed out the camp. “We assess there’s over a hundred terrorists
in location. If we move fast, we can catch them in their beds.”

The major nodded as he laid out his own map. It
was covered in military symbols; arrows indicating assault lines and fire
positions. He pointed to the positions with the tip of his dagger. “I’ll put a
block here and assault from this end. Can you confirm this ridgeline is good
for an attack by fire position? We packed a lot of firepower.”

“I like the way you think.” Himesh grinned as
he used a chinagraph pencil to mark the spot he and Mirza had previously
occupied. “You’ll find this outcrop suitable. It’s about six-hundred meters
from the target.”

“Good stuff. Is that where you’ll be?”

“No, We need to be with the assaulters. Time’s
short. Any intelligence that’ll provide information regarding the target or the
terrorists needs to be exploited real time.”

The major nodded. “I’ll get my squad commanders
in to give confirmatory orders. That’ll take five minutes. Then we can step
off.”

“Sounds good.”

Himesh and Mirza moved to one side as the squad
leaders gathered around the major.

“You didn’t mention the van,” said Mirza.

“Our targets could
still be in the camp. But if they aren’t, we’re going to need to find out what
we can.”

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