Recoil - Andy McNab [108]
Sam ignored him. ‘Nuka?’
Crucial came out of the tent and I told them exactly what I’d seen. I started to dip the link into a water-filled sag in the tent to get rid of the mud. ‘Some of the women got dragged off when they legged it.’ We all knew that wasn’t because the LRA boys needed help with the washing-up.
Crucial was breathing heavily, pissed off big-time.
I cut away from that stuff: it wasn’t going to help us. It had happened; we had to move on.
Silky appeared out of the gloom. ‘Where are they?’
Sam pointed into the tent and she disappeared. ‘OK, we go down into the valley. I want the guns up here. We need that firepower. We bring back any casualties we come across. But no LRA, apart from kids, OK?’ He slapped Bateman on the shoulder. ‘I want you to cover us with the gun. Take my trench. We’ll go in and out on the left side, same route you took, OK?’
I slipped the link from round my neck and handed it to Bateman. He threw them over his shoulder.
‘They’ll be back, man, once they’ve licked their wounds. Just like dogs, they’ll be back.’ He watched the clouds scudding past the moon. ‘Those fuckers will wait until first light so it’s easier to keep control now we’ve kicked their arses. Their heads will be full to bursting with that ghat shit.’ He paused and turned back towards us. ‘And a side portion of kindoki.’
It was only then that I realized one of us was missing. ‘Standish?’
‘I left him in the trench.’
Sam was already walking towards it. Crucial and I weren’t far behind.
PART TEN
1
Standish was leaning against the far wall of the fire trench, arms resting on the mud at either side of it like he was floating in a jacuzzi. Sam and Crucial hunched down into the backblast channel. I sank on to my knees.
He glowered at me. ‘What went wrong with the claymores?’
‘Not sure.’ I shrugged. ‘Second reel of firing cable might have been contaminated, or the plunger didn’t kick out enough amps. Maybe even a knackered det.’
Jacuzzi over. It was like I’d thrown a switch. He pushed himself off the trench wall. ‘We nearly lost the firefight. We have lost Sam’s patrol. This nightmare is all down to you!’ He jabbed a finger at me to underline every word. ‘If you’d done your fucking job correctly, we wouldn’t have had half the fucking LRA in the valley, and Sam’s patrol unable to support us.’ He turned to face the scene of my crime. ‘We wouldn’t be in this fucking situation.’
I was tempted to suggest that next time he could rig the fucking thing up, but knew it was pointless to rise to the bait.
He switched to Sam. ‘And now we have the other half of your church here, what’s the plan? Deafen these drug-crazed heathens with semiautomatic gospel songs? Or maybe beat them off with copies of the Good News Bible?’
Sam didn’t rise to it either. ‘I’m going down there with these two. We need the guns. Bateman will cover us on the one Nick brought up. You can have the RPG.’
Standish had other ideas. ‘No, you’re not. We’re leaving. They’re going to take the mine – there aren’t enough of us. We need to use whatever darkness is left to cover us out of here right now, get back to the strip and evacuate to Cape Town.’
I heard the clanking of link as Bateman returned. He jumped into the trench and moved the weapon forward on to the parapet.
Sam kept his cool, but wasn’t giving up without a fight. ‘What about the Mercy Flight people? Both are injured – one’s a stretcher case. How can we move them in the dark? We’d land up with even more casualties. And how are we going to cross the river at night with them strapped into cots?
‘Then there’s the kids. They’re scared – they’ll get lost. We need to control the situation, not flap and run. Our best chance is to stay here and fight. At first light, we make a break for it. If it works, all well and good. If it doesn’t, well, tough. None of us is going to care, because we’ll be history. But it’s better than turning our backs on these people.’
Standish flicked his hand disdainfully.