Fit For Purpose by Julian Parrott (scary books to read .TXT) 📗

field. Both Price and Gagnon, having spent quite a bit of time in helicopters and hating them, recognised a skilled pilot at work.

“That’s not the first time he’s done that,” Price said.

He began taking pictures of the events through his binoculars.

On the ground, the helicopter’s crew were quickly conducting business with the Taliban. Price was able to focus on what looked like the Russian commander. He recognized the face from the Bagram briefing.

“Fuck,” he said. “It’s Zalkind.”

Feodor Zalkind, sometime trade attaché at the Russian Embassy in Kabul. Sometime foreign service diplomat, but always full time GRU intelligence officer. The rumours of him supplying explosives for Taliban and al-Qaeda IEDs were now fact. The Russians liked nothing more than to make things difficult for the Western militaries.

“High priority target,” Price noted.

“Let’s slot the fucker,” Gagnon said.

Down below them in the field, a Taliban fighter reacted as if he heard something. He dropped what he was carrying to the Mi-17 and unslung his AK. Price could hear shouting before the assault rifles bloomed fire and death. Tracer fire leapt across the field and valley side and then, suddenly the deep darkness was further rift by flares, the Canadians were caught in the open with little cover. A heavy machine gun from the Mi-17 opened up and rocket propelled grenades snaked from the field and the village to where Gagnon and Price knew their comrades were.

Gagnon radioed for air support while Price opened up with his own rifle trying to give the Canadians in the field some covering fire. The Canadians’ chatter through Price’s earpiece was loud and indistinct. Then, the helicopter’s heavy machine gun swung towards him and Gagnon and bullets raked across the berm they had taken cover behind. It moved on as suppressing fire came from one of the Canadian groups on the ground. Back on the berm, Price sighted on Zalkind as the Russian was entering the Mi-17. He fired, saw the Russian duck, and saw a bullet hole emerge in the helicopter’s aluminium skin. Zalkind closed the cabin door and the helicopter began to elevate. Price fired more times seeing his bullets strike the Mi-17 but to no serious effect. The helicopter continued to rise while its cargo door machine gunner laid down a constant stream of fire towards the dug-in Canadians. Price, angry and frustrated that he had missed Zalkind, fired at the machine gunner.

More Taliban emerged from the village adding to the suppressing fire. Gagnon ordered his men to fall back while the vicious fire fight continued. Price saw an isolated group of Canadians about to be outflanked and he ran down the berm to where he could see the nearest group of friendlies. He continued to fire his rifle, swapping magazines on the run. He slid into the shallow depression where the four Canadian troopers were lying. Two fully engaged with the enemy, one injured but alert, while the other soldier lay on his back, eyes fully wide but looking unresponsive. There was a lot of blood.

Taliban fighters approached through the Canadians’ fire. Price aimed his rifle and fired. Nothing happened. He was out of ammo. He reached down to his holster and drew his Sig Sauer side arm. He flicked the safety catch off just in time to fire twice at the nearest Taliban fighter. Price saw his bullets strike and the Afghan crumpled. The Canadians drove off the other Taliban.

Price holstered his pistol and reloaded his rifle.

“Give me all the suppressing fire you can then fall back to the berm,” he shouted. He grabbed the unresponsive soldier, threw him over his shoulder, and ran back for the berm. Puffs of dirt arose around his feet like deadly weeds. He zigged and zagged. He could see Gagnon firing and ran for him. He dropped the wounded soldier and ran back, zagging and zigging, for the second injured man. The Canadians in the depression gave him enough time to hoist the soldier over his shoulder and they joined him on the run back to the berm. Then Price heard jet engines roaring from the south and a couple of US Marine Harriers appeared. The Harriers’ cannon and missiles drove the Taliban back to the village and the Canadians extricated themselves. They retreated to the prearranged emergency egress point carrying their wounded, and their dead, with them.

Gagnon and Price made official after-action reports. They had the photographic evidence that Zalkind was trading drugs for guns. Their superiors noted that the Russians reported a Mi-17, on a diplomatic mission, had gone down killing all on board, including one of their Kabul based attachés. They weren’t willing to pursue the international incident any further. Neither Gagnon nor Price believed any of it.

Later, over beers at Bagram, Gagnon told Tom that if he ever bumped into Zalkind again he’d kill him to avenge the death of his troopers.

***

Kensington, London, Russian Embassy. Present Day

The former Major Zalkind, now Colonel Kamenev, was frustrated with his inability to find the face from the BFI. He had engaged a skilled SRV analyst to help try to place the Brit. They searched again through their photo file of Western intelligence and military agencies; individual faces, glossy eight by tens, photofits, faces in crowds at meetings and public occasions. None appeared to match his memory. Kamenev suggested the analyst search for friends and acquaintances of a British actor, Nia Williams. She had stuck in his memory from her role in the vampire movie which had been the atrocious film’s highpoint and from her presence at the BFI, all thick dark hair and impressive cleavage.

The next morning, Kamenev, bleary eyed, returned to the embassy after only a couple of hours’ rest. Coffee in hand, he went to the analyst’s station and was greeted with a big toothy grin, “I think I’ve found him, sir.” Kamenev expected some computer photofit image and was surprised when the analyst, brought up