War Torn

Chapter Forty-six

IN THE AFTERNOON 1 PLATOON WAS SENT OUT ON A ROUTINE patrol. Nobody knew why the boss suddenly ordered the Vectors to slow down as they approached three bearded Afghans in dusty clothes at the roadside. He ordered a door to be opened and, without the convoy even stopping, the three men jumped in and the wagons continued.Asma was at the front of the second vehicle with the boss, listening to the radio.‘What the hell is going on?’ she asked him.He shrugged but did not explain. Although she would have to know, sooner or later.‘Those weren’t the SAS guys?’He sighed. ‘Yes.’‘I must say they looked bloody authentic.’‘Not a sniper rifle in sight.’‘I wonder what they were doing out here all night and all day?’‘Waiting for a big event to start.’‘A big event? It’s not a holy day.’‘A family event.’‘Did they top someone at a family gathering? That’s brave.’The boss said nothing and the convoy rumbled on. He thought he had escaped. But in a few minutes she turned to him again.‘What kind of family gathering?’ she asked suspiciously.He looked at her but did not reply.‘A wedding?’He nodded. Asma’s face began to redden. But when she spoke her voice was icy.‘Please, Gordon. Tell me it wasn’t the wedding we were invited to.’He looked embarrassed.‘Well, I wasn’t invited. You were.’Asma was silent. He waited for the explosion.‘You’re Intelligence Corps. I assumed you knew who the target was,’ he said.‘The SAS don’t tell every low-down ant in Intelligence what they’re doing.’She had been staring listlessly at the road ahead but now she turned to look directly at Weeks again.‘So who was the target?’He braced himself. It was better to get it over with. ‘Asad.’‘No!’ It was more of a cry than a protest.‘Asma, I know you won’t want to believe this. But Asad was a very high-up Taliban commander. If today’s op went according to plan, the snipers have just killed him.’‘No!’‘I’m sorry. I know how much you liked him.’Weeks had received the news about the operation yesterday and his first thought had been for Asma. The tribesman stood for something that mattered a lot to her. If Asad was a rival, Weeks took no pleasure in the knowledge that his rival would be wiped out.Her face was all strong bones and big brown eyes now.‘Liking him didn’t come into it!’ she said, her face showing this was untrue. Liking had certainly come into it. ‘I trusted him!’‘I’m sorry,’ said Weeks. ‘You made a mistake. He was a Taliban commander. But so high up he was rarely called upon to fight.’Asma shook her head with incomprehension. ‘I can’t believe it! His father spoke against the Taliban!’‘It’s not so unusual for a father to have one son in the Afghan National Army and another in the Taliban. You told me that yourself. You told me that Afghans like to hedge their bets when it comes to taking sides. You said that, after so many years of war, they have to. But Asad was in more deeply than that. He was committed to the cause.’Asma looked away from him at the dust clouds billowing on all sides of the Vector. He could hardly bear the unhappiness on her face. He stopped short of pointing out what might have happened if the OC had accepted the wedding invitation.Neither of them said a word as they re-entered the base. When the wagon stopped and the driver got out, Weeks turned to her.‘Asma, don’t be upset . . .’He was shocked to see that she was fighting tears.‘I’m not fucking upset,’ she spat.‘It’s a war. We have Rules of Engagement and international laws governing our behaviour but it’s basically a dirty game and you can’t trust anyone.’‘You don’t understand! Someone who knows nothing about this country and its people thinks he had the right to judge Asad and find him guilty. And today those bastards put him to death! What fucking right do they have to decide who he is and what he thinks?’‘They have the right to decide he’s dangerous and that he puts a lot of other lives at risk.’‘I hope they know what the fuck they’re doing! Because if they’re anything like you, with your posh farmhouse and your polo and your private school, they don’t have a fucking clue! You don’t even know anything about England. Let alone Afghanistan!’Weeks did not reply. Asma did not get out. So they continued to sit in the hot Vector watching the men debus. Dave was running around with ammo. The drivers were sharing cigarettes in the shade. Weeks could not remember being more miserable. His wretchedness felt as though it penetrated to his bone marrow. Somehow, together, he and Asma had managed to develop an intimacy despite all the differences between them. And she had just ended all that.He wondered which gap was wider: the eighty miles between his family’s farmhouse and the flat in Hackney where she had been brought up? Or the gulf between England and Afghanistan? The distances seemed so great that they were insurmountable.She sighed into the silence. He wished she would speak. Apologize, unsay it, reach for his hand. He glanced at her and saw from her deep brown eyes that she would do none of these.‘You fucking idiots don’t understand. You talk about the Enemy. But sometimes the Enemy is the Future.’‘What does that mean?’‘His beliefs were too complicated for you fucking morons to understand. He was no fundamentalist but he certainly had principles. If he was fighting for something it was probably Pashtunistan. What makes a bunch of fucking wankers think it’s OK to top anyone who believes in a cause? Maybe what he believed in had some value. Shit, I hate you all.’‘All who?’‘All you wankers who think you know. Well, now you’ll pay for being so fucking sure. We went into their house and accepted their hospitality and now we’ve shot their son. At a family wedding, for fuck’s sake. It’s OK for the SAS, sneaking in and out of here and then going off to kill someone else. We’ve got to stay here and face it when they take their revenge.’‘Now you’re being dramatic.’ He heard his own voice, how his vowels had been honed in farmhouses and on polo ponies. He understood how it must irritate her. ‘The point of the Regiment’s op is that it didn’t look like any British Army operation the locals would recognize. The intention was to make them think a rival tribe had carried out the killing.’She rolled her eyes.‘They’re not stupid.’She was getting out of the wagon now.‘Gordon, I’ve already explained the Afghan code of honour to you. Now just you wait and see what happens.’She slammed the door.