War Torn

The enemy’s main escape route was past the gatehouse and across the desert to the hills but Finn picked up talk of a tunnel system. And as he watched the number of insurgents diminish, he knew this must be right. The noise level was dropping. The air had been thick with cordite and smoke but it was thinning now. The Taliban couldn’t be seen surging across the desert. So there must be some other way out of the shrine.‘We’d drop a five-hundred-pounder if it wasn’t for Martyn,’ he told Streaky and Binman, who happened to be close by. ‘Let’s hope they haven’t got him down in a tunnel with them.’‘It’s just like they’re melting,’ said Streaky.‘Maybe they’re all dead,’ Binman said hopefully.But Finn and Streaky shook their heads.The soldiers were ordered to start looking for a tunnel system. Finn and Streaky searched in the great shadows of massive boulders but the earth was hot, dry and solid.‘I just want to kill the fuckers!’ said Mal. ‘They’re like rats, running down a rathole. I want to go after them and kill them.’ He had the hungry, alert look of a man for whom the fighting had ended too soon. A lot of the men did. A few were fighting each other. But Finn didn’t feel that way. He felt tired and defeated.‘This operation was Marty’s last hope. And we fucked it up.’Mal glared at him.‘We did our best.’‘What’s the Jedi here for? Why haven’t they sorted this out?’‘What do you want them to do? Pull the poor old bastard out of a hat along with a white rabbit?’There was a shout. A tunnel under the rocks had been found and officers were developing a plan to send men down.‘Hold firm, 1 Platoon,’ came the boss’s voice. ‘It sounds as though you’re going to be covering from up here.’Finn lit a cigarette while he waited for orders. He decided to check out the gatekeeper’s vegetables. When the doors on the wagons had slowed so that the SAS men could hit the ground on their arrival here at the shrine, Finn had got a clear view of a vegetable garden in the gatekeeper’s compound. It had been well watered and well ordered and there was probably something good to eat. Could you grow carrots in Afghanistan? Finn loved raw carrots and had stolen many from allotments.‘Where you going?’ demanded Streaky, appearing at his side.‘I feel like a little snack from the garden out there. Care to join me in a bit of thieving, Streaks?’They sneaked around to the small, solid house. It looked deserted. Outside there was a thin irrigation channel, which fed the vegetable garden. There were no carrots but there were grapes. Finn picked a couple.‘Mmm, Streaky. Just try these.’The grapes were small. Sweetness exploded in their mouths.‘Oooh, juicy!’ Streaky picked some more.A goat hung its head in one corner and nearby was the doghouse. There was no barking from inside it.‘What do people do with their dogs in this country if they never put them in their kennels?’ asked Finn. Streaky was busy munching and so he answered his own question. ‘Put their hostages inside.’He walked towards the small ornate kennel.‘The Jedi will have searched there,’ said Streaky, reluctant to leave the grapes.‘I know,’ agreed Finn. ‘I’m just nosy.’He approached the house carefully in case one of the huge Afghan fighting dogs he had heard about was asleep in there. Crouching, in case the dog bounced out on him, he pulled open the door.The first thing he saw was a pair of legs. He thought they must belong to a dead body since they did not move at his arrival. His heart thumping, he squatted down and peered up the legs and saw they were attached to Martyn Robertson.‘Fuck me! Marty! I was looking for you. But I didn’t think I’d find you.’Martyn lay with his eyes half open.‘Oy! You alive, mate?’He still did not move. Finn felt for a pulse.‘Shit, Marty! Don’t be dead!’‘Hi, Huckleberry Finn,’ Martyn said weakly, without surprise.‘Hey! They’ve all gone looking down a hole for you!’‘Uh-huh. Well, I’ve been down a few holes.’Streaky looked over from the vines.‘Finny?’Finn turned and gave him a thumbs-up.‘Go and get someone!’‘Is it him? Is it Topaz Zero? I know this is a joke, Finny!’‘Find someone. They won’t believe me if I put it out on PRR.’Streaky ran over to the doghouse to make sure this was no wind-up. Then he rushed out of the garden and back inside the rock circle. The first person he saw was an SAS man with a mug of tea in his hand.‘He’s here! He’s fucking here!’The man smiled at him kindly.‘Oh, yeah? And what’s your name, kid?’‘Bacon, sir. Streaky Bacon.’‘You must be the only fucking bacon in Afghanistan. Got a mate called Pinta Lager?’‘He’s here. Martyn! Topaz Zero! The hostage! He’s over here!’Back in the doghouse, Finn was trying to help Martyn to his feet.‘Shit, Martyn! They were going to kill you in two days’ time.’‘I sort of hoped I’d die soon anyway, just to ruin their fun.’‘While we’re waiting for the others, let’s talk about that job you were thinking of offering me . . .’Martyn’s face creased itself into something that might have been a smile.‘What odds did you give on finding me?’‘Hundred to thirty at the beginning, shortened down to fifteen to eight when we found your last doghouse in town. Then this morning on the way here I was offering eleven to eight! That was generous but nobody took me up on it. Ha! In five minutes they’ll all be kicking themselves, eh, Marty?’Martyn said: ‘You’ve got yourself that job, boy.’Finn looked round and saw Streaky advancing with a disbelieving SAS man still holding his mug of tea.‘It’s all over. You’ll be all right now, Marty, old mate and future boss. The cream of the British Army’s come to save you.’