He fired, but as he did so a second RPG flew over the compound walls out of the darkness.
‘They’re attacking!’ Bel screamed. She just couldn’t control herself any more. ‘
They’re attacking!
’
But the soldiers knew that. Once the shrapnel threat of the second RPG had disappeared, they got to their feet again. To a man, they were white-faced and their eyes bulged with a strange mixture of fear and numbness. They took up their firing positions once more while Bel retreated hard against the protection of the back wall.
As she looked at the young men protecting her, she couldn’t help thinking that they had the aura of a group of soldiers preparing themselves to fight to the very end . . .
There were only five of them in the chopper now: Ben, Ricki, Matt and the two pilots. Ricki and Matt were talking to the pilots in shouted military jargon Ben could barely understand; which left Ben, almost deafened by the noise of the chopper, his brain racing. Aarya had been safely off-loaded and was even now being treated by an army medic; the suitcase bomb had been carefully carried off the helicopter and taken to the safety of the British base. ‘You need to stay with her, Ben,’ Ricki had said, but Ben had refused to get out of the chopper.
‘They’ll take care of her,’ he’d shouted. ‘I’m coming with you.’
Ben’s insistence almost appeared to amuse the SAS man, who seemed intuitively to know that nothing was going to stop him from going to help his mum, no matter how dangerous it was. More than that, he seemed to understand it. ‘You’re getting obstinate in your old age,’ he had shouted.
‘Just part of my charm,’ Ben replied, his face totally serious.
The chopper had barely been on the ground for two minutes – just time to offload – before they had taken off again. It was now mostly empty, to leave plenty of space for the evacuation they anticipated making.
Ben looked out from one of the side-gunners’ positions. They were flying high, following the course of the river. The moon still sparkled on the water, making the ground below them as beautiful as it was perilous. Adrenaline surged through him, replacing his exhaustion with a new sense of purpose. His mum
was
going to be all right.
Ricki turned to him.
‘We’ll be at FOB Jackson in about two minutes,’ he yelled over the noise of the chopper. ‘That’s where your mum is, Ben.’
Ben clenched his jaw and nodded.
‘I’m not going to lie to you. The soldiers defending the base have taken casualties. Deaths. There’s no confirmation who. It’s possible your mum is one of them, we just can’t say.’ Ben’s blood ran cold, but he did his best to concentrate on what Ricki was telling him. ‘The base is surrounded by enemy combatants. They’ve already brought down one attack helicopter and nearly downed another.’
‘What’s going to stop them doing the same thing again?’ Ben asked.
‘The pilots are going to switch off all the lights and use night vision to approach. The enemy will be able to hear us, but they won’t be able to see us until we’re right on top of them. We’ll have the element of surprise, but that doesn’t mean we won’t take incoming fire, and the enemy might just get lucky.’ He handed Ben his weapon. ‘I meant what I said before, Ben. This isn’t a toy. But if you need it, use it. Me and Matt are going to provide covering fire from the side-gunners’ positions.’
Ben nodded, his face serious, and he took the gun. If he’d expected to feel better with that weapon in his hands, he was wrong. He checked the safety catch was on, then put it to one side, doing his best to pretend that it wasn’t there, but at the same time running through the instructions Ricki had given him on the weapon’s use earlier that night.
They started to lose height. Ben felt his stomach churning as Ricki and Matt attached their night-vision goggles and approached the side-gunners’ positions. He edged towards the back of the chopper, taking the weapon with him, nervous sweat pouring from his body.
Ben took a deep breath and closed his eyes. He only opened them again when he heard the sound of firing. It was like thunder inside the chopper. Ricki and Matt were firing in short bursts, one followed by another. Ben watched the links of ammo chug into the guns as the chopper continued to lose height. He tried not to think about what would happen if they attracted enemy fire.
The aircraft wobbled. Heavier bursts of fire from the SAS men. Ben grabbed hold of the M16 to stop it sliding along the floor.
A change in the sound of the engines. Higher-pitched. From the side of the chopper Ben saw compound walls. The SAS men left the side guns and Ricki grabbed his M16 from Ben. ‘We’re landing in the middle of the base,’ he shouted. ‘You’re going to need to help people up.’ He handed Ben a torch. ‘Use this to guide them in.’
Ben jumped into action just as he felt the chopper touch down. Ricki and Matt hurled themselves from the side of the aircraft as Ben looked out. Through the darkness he saw scenes of devastation. To his right, a boundary wall with a huge hole blown into it and just beyond it, barely visible, the tangled remains of a downed helicopter. Ricki and Matt had positioned themselves between their Black Hawk and that hole and had started to discharge their M16s in the direction of the destroyed wall. The noise of the weapons, on top of the roar of the chopper, was almost deafening. Ben switched on the torch Ricki had given him. It was small but powerful. Almost immediately it illuminated a terrible sight: figures lying on the ground, entirely still. The sight sent a shiver down his spine.
He turned and looked through the other side of the aircraft, shining his torch out into the base. All he saw was confusion – people running towards him. In the light of his torch he saw flashes of camouflage gear; and beyond that, a body lying on the ground. ‘This way!’ he shouted. ‘Follow the light!’
Ben tried to pick out the faces of the people running to the chopper. He knew what he was looking for, but with each face that was not his mum, he felt a sickness growing in his stomach.
‘This way!’ he shouted again. ‘
This way!
’ Ricki and Matt’s M16s continued to fire in the background.
The first of the soldiers reached him. He didn’t look surprised to see someone of Ben’s age, but then Ben realized that he was hidden behind the light of the torch. He held out one hand to help the soldier up into the helicopter, but at the last moment the soldier stepped aside. The beam of light from the torch lit up three more figures. Two of them were armed, flanking the third figure, which they quickly manoeuvred up towards the side of the helicopter. And the sight of that figure made a wave of total relief crash over Ben.
He barely recognized his mum. Her face was dirty, her clothes torn and her eyes wide with fright. She stumbled as her chaperones hustled her towards the chopper. ‘Help her up!’ one of them shouted at him.
Ben didn’t need telling twice. He held out his arm and grabbed his mother’s hand firmly. ‘It’s OK,’ he shouted. ‘We’re going to get you out of here.’
Bel stopped. A look of confusion crossed her face as she peered towards him, trying to see past the glare of the torch. ‘
Ben?
’ she whispered.
He tugged on her arm. ‘Get up, Mum,’ he shouted. ‘We can’t stay on the ground for long.’ Behind her a small crowd of soldiers had congregated, waiting for her to get in. She clambered into the chopper, her face still a picture of astonishment.
‘What are you
doing
here, Ben?’ she said as she scurried to the back of the chopper.
‘It’s, er . . . it’s kind of a long story,’ he bellowed as he helped the soldiers up.
‘Then you’d better start talking, young man!’ she shrieked. Ben couldn’t tell if she was angry or relieved.
‘Actually, Mum,’ he shouted back, ‘I think I might wait until we’re out of here.’ He helped the last of the soldiers onto the chopper. ‘Are there any more?’ he demanded of the man.
The soldier shook his head. ‘We’ll have to come back for the bodies,’ he said grimly.
Quickly, Ben moved to the other side of the chopper. Ricki and Matt still had their backs to the helicopter and were keeping up the covering fire. He raised his torch to illuminate them, but at the last moment stopped himself. The SAS men wouldn’t thank him for lighting them up like a Christmas tree, he realized. Instead he called out to them. ‘Guys!’ he yelled. ‘Everyone’s on.
Everyone’s on!
’
Ricki raised one hand – a thumbs-up – and the two of them started to walk backwards, firing their M16s as they went, their backs slightly arched to protect them from the force of the helicopter’s rotary blades. The chopper’s engines changed pitch again: the aircraft was preparing to take off. Matt turned and jumped up into the body of the helicopter while Ricki continued the covering fire. Then he too joined them. He had barely set foot inside the aircraft when it lifted off the ground. Within seconds the SAS men had taken their side-gunners’ positions again: their weapons pounded above the noise of the rotary blades as the pilots gained height with a speedy, sickening lurch before swinging the chopper round and roaring away from the base.
Only then did Ben turn to his mum. Her mouth was open, agog. Her eyes were darting around and one of her hands clutched her hair in an expression of terrified bewilderment.
‘Will someone tell me what’s going on?’ she shouted.
The thunder of the side guns stopped. Ricki turned to Ben, and even in the darkness he could see that the SAS man had a smile on his face.
‘Looks to me,’ he said, ‘like you might have a bit of explaining to do.’
Ben looked from the SAS man to his mum, then back again. ‘You know what,’ he said, nodding his head sagely, ‘I think you might be right.’
Outside the helicopter, the sky was beginning to lighten. Thursday had been the longest day of Ben’s life; Friday, finally, had come. The early morning sun glimmered above the craggy peaks of the mountaintops as the Black Hawk, laden with soldiers and two exhausted civilians, continued its way southwards along the Helmand River, towards the main British base at Camp Bastion.
Towards safety, at last.
Epilogue
Camp Bastion. The following day.
In a place as dangerous as Afghanistan, Ben had come to realize, you take your pleasures wherever you can find them. To most people, the stark canvas pod in which he was sitting would be far from luxurious; it was hardly where Ben would have chosen to spend his Saturday morning. But it had air-conditioning, so it was blissfully cool; more importantly, it was safe. And safety was something Ben had been hankering after for quite a while now.
Aarya sat by his side. The doctors at Camp Bastion had given her painkillers and put her foot in a cast. When Ben first saw his friend being carried off the Chinook that had evacuated her from Kajaki, even he had been shocked by the way she looked after the ravages of her ordeal. A couple of days of medical treatment, however, alongside plenty of water and some half-decent food, had put her well on the road to recovery. Within the next hour, a military transport would be taking her back to her village, while Ben and his mum were to be flown to Kandahar air base, and from there back to the UK.
They sat in silence, feeling awkward on account of the goodbyes that they both knew were just round the corner. He suddenly found himself talking. ‘You should come and live in England,’ he blurted out. ‘There’s no wars there. No Taliban, or terrorists, or, you know, all that stuff . . .’
Aarya smiled at him. ‘Why would I want to go anywhere other than home?’ she asked. ‘My parents are waiting for me. You would not want to come and live in my village, even if it was the safest place in the world, would you?’
Ben thought about that. He thought about the small house in Macclesfield he shared with his mum and dad, and how he would feel about not going back there. And he realized that Aarya was right.
‘But I will visit you,’ she continued, still smiling. ‘After all, we still have the second part of our exchange programme. I hope you haven’t forgotten about that.’
‘I’m sorry I got us into so much trouble,’ Ben replied.
Aarya shot him a quizzical look.
‘Well,’ he continued, aware that he was gabbling slightly, ‘if I hadn’t insisted on us going to get your books back . . .’ He gave her an apologetic smile. All that seemed like a very, very long time ago.
His friend shook her head. ‘Ben,’ she said, her voice very quiet, ‘I owe you my life. If you had not made it onto that ledge . . .’ Her voice trailed off, as though she couldn’t bear the thought of such a thing. Ben too felt himself shuddering at the memory.
They fell into silence once more.
The door opened and they both looked round quickly. Ricki walked in. It was the first time Ben had seen the SAS man without his weapon and ops waistcoat. He smiled at the two of them – a slightly strained smile, and Ben had to remind himself that the soldier had not long lost two of his friends in the field.
‘Ben, Aarya,’ he greeted them.
‘Hi, Ricki,’ Ben said. ‘We’re, er . . . we’re leaving soon.’
‘Yeah, I heard. Just bumped into your mum.’ He winked. ‘I think she’s calmed down,’ he said. ‘A little bit, anyway.’ He turned to Aarya. ‘How’s the foot?’