Recoil

5

The RPGs weren’t slowing the rate of fire coming from the lip. Rounds ripped into the mud around us. They were a fire group, trying to pin us down so the rest could attack from the front.

‘The phone!’ I screamed to Sam. ‘Give me the phone!’

He whacked it into my outstretched hand, his weapon never leaving the shoulder.

I ripped off the Prudence and powered it up.

The sky in the distance was about to turn blue, but behind us it was still dark. I crouched further into the trench, finger in my ear, but still kept my head above the parapet.

The phone was answered and I heard the drone of engines. ‘It’s kicking off here, mate. We need you.’

‘Fifteen minutes. How’s the cloud cover?’ He sounded like he was putting in a routine request to land.

‘Clearing.’ More rounds came down from the lip and slammed into the mud on either side of us. I had to shout to be heard. ‘Fifty per cent visibility and clearing. You still coming in east?’

‘Straight up the arse, man.’

‘The beacon will be a burning oil drum, just like the ones at the airstrip, OK?’

‘Roger that.’

‘We’re at the west end of the valley – repeat, anything west of the marker is us, OK?’

‘Roger that. What am I hitting?’

‘A fire group on the southern lip of the valley – that’s your port as you approach. Roger so far?’

‘Roger that.’

The engine noise was drowned as two more RPGs kicked off.

‘We’re waiting for the main attack, probably from the valley entrance – four hundred east of the marker. They’ll be moving up the valley. Roger so far?’

‘Roger that. What are they carrying, man? Anything I need to know about?’

‘We’re taking small arms, no RPGs yet. No light or heavy guns. The only tracer so far is ours.’

‘Roger that.’ His tone was still completely relaxed. No wonder he’d survived in this business so long. ‘OK, I’m coming. Just make sure I can see that marker, man. I need something to get me on line. Wait out.’

I was putting the sat phone down when he screamed, ‘Nick! Nick! Did you get Standish? You tell him what I said?’

‘Yes – and more.’

‘Roger that, be there in fifteen.’

Sam yelled, ‘Here we go!’

He fired a long burst, fifteen plus, into the beaten zone as bodies poured into the valley.

More fire came from the high ground, covering the assault group. A pair of RPGs kicked off to our right and I saw Crucial sprinting to the other trench.

‘Silky!’ I yelled, so loud even the LRA would have heard me. ‘The plunger! Push the plunger!’

I looked down into the valley and waited, but nothing happened.

‘Silky! Hit the fucking plunger!’

I got more rounds down, then saw the cordite spark up in the gloves, and finally the slabs, burning like big fuck-off sparklers.

‘Come on . . . come on . . .’

A couple of seconds later, the diesel ignited.