Part 32 (1/2)
Therefore we'd have to go in tandem, strapped together under one canopy. As it happened, at that time I was one of only three tandem masters in the Regiment. Where the other two were, I didn't know, but I decided to try it on the head-shed, anyway.
They remembered Samashki in Hereford, all right.
”Jesus!”
said d.i.c.k Trafford, the ops officer.
”That's where the Russian army murdered more than a hundred people. Burnt the houses. It was tactically pointless just a show of strength. It became one of the most notorious incidents in the war.”
”Listen,” I said.
”I've had an idea about the recce .. .” I explained what I'd been thinking, and added, ”I want to volunteer for the job. We can get down to it much quicker from here than you can from there. Why don't we do it?”
”OK,” said d.i.c.k cautiously, 'but who's Sasha?”
”Major Ivanov, commander of Tiger Force, big operational experience in this region.”
”It's possible,” d.i.c.k agreed.
”I'll check it out and let you know.” Then he added, ”We've made one bit of progress. The Turks have cleared us to use Kars as our FMB.”
”Brilliant.”
I went into the kitchen and put the kettle on, then went back on the Satcom to Hereford. This time I got the CO, and outlined my scheme.
”The recce party needs to include a Russian,” I emphasised.
”If we b.u.mp into anyone on the ground and can't communicate, we're b.u.g.g.e.red. The ideal guy's Sasha Ivanov, our contact here. He's a hundred percent on side, and I've got to know him pretty well.”
The CO must have already been discussing my idea with d.i.c.k, because he agreed at once.
”Don't get carried away, though,” he warned.
”Has the squadron left yet?”
”No they're going in about an hour. You'd better have a word with Pat Newman. He's right here.”
Pat Newman, leader of the HALO team, was an old mate.
”Hi, Geordie!” he said.
”Stirring it up again, I hear.”
”Just a bit. Great to hear you, Pat. Listen. I've been looking at the map. The best way to hack this is for me and my Russian colleague Sasha to meet you at Kars. I'm going to need a full patrol kit and a tandem rig. Can you make sure it's all brought out?”
”Don't worry,” he said.
”I know the score. I've been fully briefed. Your kit'll be on board. Just tell the SQMS what you want.”
”OK, then. Put me over, please.”
The squadron quartermaster sergeant was Larry Tompkins, another good friend.
”Listen, Larry,” I said, 'can you get your finger out?”
”Might be able to. Why?”
I ran through a list of what we needed: tandem rig chute, two free-fall suits, two oxygen sets working off one cylinder, harness and clips for attaching Sasha to me, GPS, Satcom phone, camcorder and lap-top computer for videoing the site, kite-sight, binos.. . ”And Larry,” I ended, 'those suits. Medium will do for me, but the guy I'm taking in's a big lad. Six one at least, and broad with it. We need a large for him.”
”Got it,” said Larry.
”We're pulling the stuff out already.”
”Thanks.”
I went back to Pat and asked, ”How about timings?”
”Depart Lyneham 0530 .. .” I could tell he was doing calculations on a sheet of paper a habit of his.
”Six hours thirty to Cyprus. Akrotiri at 1200 that's 1500 local. Ninety minutes to change crews and refuel. Take off for Kars 1630 local. Two hours twenty, approx. Into Kars by 1900 local.”
”So if Sasha can get me and him to Kars by then, the recce can go down tonight?”
”Yes it'll have to.”
”And the squadron a.s.sault the night after.”
”Exactly.”
Back in the kitchen, I found the kettle had boiled dry and heated up to a fearsome degree over the gas burner. When I wrapped a cloth round the handle it gave off a smell of singeing, and the first gush of fresh water exploded into steam when it hit the base.
One or two of the other lads were starting to come round.
Whinger blundered into the kitchen, scrubbing at his eyes and muttering, ”f.u.c.king phone it's never stopped all night.”
As if to back up his complaint the local line rang. It was Anna, spitting with rage. She'd only just got the message I'd left the night before. Her people were useless, she said, idle and stupid.
Now how could she help me?
The older you get, the more cynical you become. I couldn't help wondering if she was really that furious or was she acting up a bit? Had she got my message hours earlier and deliberately done nothing about it?
Whatever the truth, she caught up fast. I'd barely finished outlining events when she said, ”If it's Samashki, it's certainly one of the Gaidar brothers you're dealing with. You know the big man who was shot in the apartment?”
”Of course.”
”That was Aslan, so-called Keet, the Whale. His second brother, Usman, calls himself Akula, the Shark. He's been building a big house for himself down there near Grozny, a kind of fortified palace, in the mountains. That's the Gaidars' home territory. The three of them are the Chechen Mafia.”
”Who's the third?”
”The young one, Supyan, calls himself Barrakuda. That hardly needs translating.”