Sorry it took so long to finally update this, been pretty busy. More action in this than the previous chapters. Rated Mature for a reason. Hope you enjoy.
October 9, 2016
There's a useful advantage to being good with explosives. That being, you are usually just as good at defusing them. On a sunny morning in Europe, me and Werewolf lay on the roof of modern 6 story apartment complex. We wore our MTP trousers, shirts and boonies. We had refused body armour on the basis that this kind of role favoured those with speed and fluid motions. Werewolf looked through the sights of an L117A1 Long Range Rifle, while I was using a high-powered spotting scope. It is a long running tradition for the elder of a sniper team to be the spotter. Before joining the SBS both me and Werewolf had served as 'Mountain Cadre' troops, or more specifically in our case reconnaissance operators and marksmen. You see a true sniper is separate from a marksmen. A marksmen has the main function of eliminating enemy forces at long range, as opposed to a sniper who has the role of gathering intelligence from a distance, observing the patterns of enemy's, and occasionally taking out lone high-value targets. We had been in the SBS for three years now, and it goes without saying that we spent much more time as a close range fighting force. However we did enjoy the rarer occasions when we got to do what few others could do. Our skills at observation made even Falcon envious, who had gotten his nickname for when he was Afghanistan, he would always take the scout duty and would be able to spot even the slightest trace of an IED. He definitely got a lot of men through tours who otherwise wouldn't have come he may have been better than any of us at tracking and spotting IEDs, we still had the better eyes for range.
Interestingly Werewolf did not get his nickname from his spotting ability. Instead he earned it through his keen senses, his stealth, and his incredible skill at hand to hand combat. His hand to hand combat abilities may not seem important for a person firing at extreme distance, but it did help when he was trying to escape and evade enemy forces for sometimes several weeks with only the support of his oppo. For the operation we had only brought commando daggers and P226 pistols for mid to close range engagements. Believing it'd be over quite quickly. Fireman was currently in our sights 800 metres away, he wore a full EOD suit and was creeping around a small car, a Honda Civic to be more precise. Meanwhile, the rest of our team were wearing full MTP gear(minus bergens) and were sat watching from behind the makeshift barricade of two Range Rovers. They were roughly 400 metres away. They carried their standard issue rifles, L85A2s, commonly known as SA80s. These fired 5.56mm rounds instead of the 7.62mm rounds of the HK417. The rounds were smaller however they would punch clean through body armour at longer ranges, were lighter, and also came in 30 round magazines instead of 20. The negative stigma commonly attached to this rifle was thankfully gone, thanks to the improved quality of the ones manufactured by Heckler and Koch. For this operation only me, Falcon and Fireman wore our headset radios. So as to avoid too much traffic over the comms. Falcon joked, "Enjoying the heat Fireman?". He grunted back "Fuck you". Falcon laughed. "Stow it you two, Fireman, what do you see?". "I confirm that I see the gas canisters, no sign on the explosives as yet". "Checked behind the wheels or the undercarriage yet?". "Negative, wait one".
We watched as he dropped down to his knees and leaned down to look under the car. "Shit man, there's a lot of Sem-tex here. Enough to take out the street easily". Falcon came over the radio "Yeah but you had this in Iraq so it should be no worries anyway right?". "Yeah should be". "Do you see the detonator?" I asked. "Negative on the detonator, oh shit, wait one," he looked around under the car "Fuck, there's a wire leading to that house over there". He pointed towards one of the houses. "I'm gonna check it out" he said. "Maintain radio contact, tell us what you see". He made his way over to it and cautiously tested the door, he swung it open slowly. We watched as he slowly made his way inside. "FUCK SHIT" He shouted. "Theres enough chems here to strip flesh from bone lads, and there's a timer, 15 minutes". "Right, do you think you can defuse it?". "Yeah, wait there's something else, I think that some of this shit is wrote in Arabic". Werewolf then whispered to me "Shit, Russian boys got a patrol coming past this street now, one vehicle, the far side of Fireman". I watched it through the scope, it stopped. Through the window I made out the shape of an Arab. "The fuck, there's an Arab in that patrol vehicle, you reckon they're connected?". Falcon shouted down his mic "Course they fucking are!". The man in the jeep looked down at his watch, his face seemed familiar. Shit, it was As'ad I thought. A high-ranking terrorist who we had long suspected of having connections with Al-Qaeda, Al-Assad, and Imran Zakhaev. I had tried to kill this vermin once before, he was my first job as a Sniper for the Mountain Cadre.
December 1st - 0300hrs Local Time - Iran - 2007
We lay in the snow and ice covered mountains of Iran. We wore our carefully crafted arctic ghillie suits. It was me and Colour Sergeant Lincoln back then, I was the shooter this time. I had an Accuracy International .50 calibre Arctic-Warfare Rifle which had been customized with a nice icy colour scheme. The stock rested on my left hand, while my right hand wrapped firmly around the handle. A mile away was the small camp, set up lower in the mountain range were it was rocky rather than icy. The people there wore the typical arab dish-dashes and thick shemaghs around their heads. "O'Gradhaigh, do you see the arab currently exiting the red tent?". "Yes Colour Sergeant". "He's our man, that is As-ad". I stared intently at the man walking across the camp. Watching his every feature to make sure they matched with those in his photograph. As much as I trusted his judgement, this was a culmination of three months under cold, miserable and starving conditions, all for one moment. 5 seconds, the approximate time it would take for my round to impact from the moment it leaves the barrel. 7 inches, the size of the target I had to hit to guarantee that my bullet would land a killing blow. 1594 metres, the precise distance to the targets usual seating position by the fire. Everything had been scrutinized, and checked multiple times.
The CSGT spoke into his radio "Lightning Actual, we are Lightning Zero, we have got a shot, repeat, As-ad is within our sights, can we engage the target? Over". We waited for a few moments before an officer replied "Lightning Zero, this is Lightning Actual, you are to wait and observe, request denied. Over". "With all due respect sir, we've waited a long time for this oppurtunity, we observed all yesterday so that we could guarantee the kill today. This might be our last chance to kill the target before he leaves. Over". "Sorry, no can do, a SEAL team is being organised so they can get him. Do you understand me Lightning Zero? Over". "He's gonna be gone before dawn! We will lose him. Over". "You listen up, if you take that shot then you are gonna face court-martial when you get back. Do not fire. That is a direct order. Out!".
"I'm really sorry mate, it's not in our hands anymore". I sighed and allowed the rifle to rest on it's side. My eyes burning from the strain of looking through the sight for so long. "It ain't your fault mate, fucking typical desk jockeys ain't it. Don't realise how much we went through, and it'll be for fucking nothing". He laughed a little "It happens too much son. But it makes the time you do get to take a shot that much sweeter". "All this time spent training and I'll never fucking kill nothing will I?". "Come on mate, you killed atleast 5 rats on the way here". We both started laughing "Ha ha, remind me never to let you cook again. Burnt rats, so tasty 'eh?". He smiled "You'll get yer chance
son, trust me".
The Present.
"Werewolf, take aim on the driver, windage - negligable, adjust elevation, one click up, fire when ready". "On it Colour Sergeant". As the jeep prepared to leave there was a deafening crack as the rifle fired. The shot flew threw the window and into the drivers head sending blood spraying onto the others. "Werewolf, take out both rear passengers, the man in arab garments mustn't be killed". Werewolf nodded, cycled the bolt and got the other two."Fireman, you reckon you can diffuse?". "Yeah, I can defuse it Tyr".
Falcon came over the radio "The fucks going on?". "Long story, capture the man in arab garments, he is a high profile target. Don't fucking slot him". "Right, you owe me a fuckin' explanation when we get back, team lets go!" he yelled. "Your main objective is to go to the RV once you have him captured". "We're on it". I watched the team running towards the arab man who was panicking trying to get out. When he succeeded Falcon double tapped his leg causing him to drop to the floor in agony. Falcon grabbed the man and dragged him away with his team following. Fireman then came over the radio "FUCKING RUN!". I saw him running out of the building just as the shockwave flew out and sent cars flying and it tore through his EOD suit. Blood sprayed across his visor and flowed from the gaps in his suit. My radio simply turned to static. "Falcon, Falcon do you read me, Over?!". No response. I tore off my boonie and headset throwing them down onto the street below. Werewolf dropped his rifle and watched the cloud of green smoke slowly filling the street. "Come on Tyr, we gotta fucking get outta here, we'll have to stay on the rooftops for a block or so if we wanna make sure we don't get inhale a lethal amount". I nodded. He slung the rifle across his shoulders.
We first ran down to the fire exit where we rushed down to the 3rd floor. We quickly flipped over the hand rails and jumped to a row of buildings. As we ran across it the slates beneath my feet slipped down and crashed onto the street. There was a slight gap between the us and the next row of buildings which we easily cleared. We then hopped down onto a balcony and instinctively rolled when we hit the street below. We got up and then started running. We easily beat the chemical cloud and reached a forked road. "Left or right?" I asked. He looked around and if I didn't know better I would have said he actually sniffed the air as he pointed towards the left road. As we ran down that road a small group of US helos flew over head. "Typical yanks, don't even spot us" he said. "What you reckon, Delta boys?". "Probably, I ain't seen a single US infantry soldier since we got here, it's all special ops guys". "Maybe they thought they'd be quicker?". "Maybe brother, maybe...".
We finally reached the hospital where we saw several armed men in the windows and a sniper team on the roof. As we ran towards the entrance a pair of Royal Marines with L86A2 LSWs trained on us walked forward. We both raised our hands as one of the marines came closer "Halt, we're gonna need to see some I.D lads". "Top right pocket Corporal". He slung his LSW by his side and reached into the pocket, he looked at the card and then gave it back. "Sorry 'bout that, I just got back from Helmand, things are still real fucking crazy over there Colour". I knew exactly what it was like and nodded "Yeah man, I know". Me and Werewolf walked inside, there stood a Young Lt and 6 very young marines. "Where is everybody Sir?". "My boys are in firing positions on this building, the SBS troopers and their hostage are in one of the rooms. I assume you're looking for the SBS team?". "Yes Sir". "Anderson, show them to the room". "Yes Leuightenant, this way Colour Sergeant". As we walked down the corridor I asked "So how many of you are there?". "3, Sections of 8 men each, a Sniper team, and Leuightenant Kerr, Colour Sergeant". "Really? And you are supposed to hold this hospital against the whole Russian army?". "Well we are the best, 539 Assault Squadron of her Majestys Royal Marines, Colour Sergeant" he beamed. Werewolf chuckled, "Close, but I think you'll find we have the top spot". The young marine laughed "That is true Sergeant". Werewolf nodded, "You're still better than the SAS though". The young marine opened the door for us "I'll leave you to it, if you need something we're just down the hall". "Thank you Anderson".
The team were stood against the wall looking down at the ground. As'ad was strapped down to the bed with ropes, the arabic garments stained red with fresh blood. "Team, we'll discuss what happened at the debrief". They all nodded slightly "Yes Colour Sergeant". Fuck, they only addressed people by rank when they were bothered by something. I knew exactly what was bothering them, but it'd have to wait for till later, right now I wanted my men sharp. "Has our friend here been talking then?". Falcon looked at the Arab, "Nothing of use, just a load of bullshit 'bout us being infidels". I took out my Fairburn-Sykes commando dagger and spun it around in my hand. "As'ad, I had a chance to kill you once before, 2007, December 1st. The only reason I didn't kill you then was because I had no choice. However this time your fate is in my hands. So you would be wise to start talking," I looked at my watch, "60 seconds, tell me something that is worth your life". Falcon took out his phone and hit the 'Record' button. As'ad struggled in the restraints. "Fuck you, you western piece of shit. Go fucking die with your slutty whores that you call daughters, and the cowards you call sons". I shrugged "I ain't got no kids". He laughed and spat at me. "Times up buddy". I gripped the knife with the blade pointing down, I then smashed it into his injured leg, twisting it and growling at him as his face twisted with pain. "Tell me, do you work with Makarov?". As'ad gritted his teeth and shouted
"Fuck you, filthy western bastard". "You got ten seconds then this knife goes up your arse". As I slowly edged the knife towards him he finally gave in. "Yes! Yes alright I work for Makarov, he supplies bombs, I plant them". "Where is he?". "I don't know you fucking pig". Just then a burst of gunfire could be heard and several muffled shouts. "Alright, Werewolf and Snake, you guys get on the rooftop and deploy the rifle, everyone else, go to the Leuightenant". They all ran out and I was left with the prisoner. As'ad stared at me. "What are you going to do then you fucking coward". "This is for Fireman". I took out my pistol and aimed it at his head. Terror shot into his eyes as he faced his end. He was about to start begging but I had already flicked the safety and squeezed the trigger.
The round fired and I smirked slightly as the bullet impacted into his skull sending brain matter and bone fragments showering over the wall. I sheathed my dagger and walked back out and down the corridor. Both my team and the Royal Marines were taking turns to fire through the entrance. The people who had been outside now lay on the ground screaming in agony. A blood trail showing that they had been dragged inside. "Leuightenant, you and this section are to stay here and protect the injured. Get one of your Sections to head out the rear exit, then have them split into two fireteams. Then they can move to the sides and flank the enemy. Your remaining Section should then move out in a line formation from the entrance. Give them orders and my team will handle the rest". He nodded and began to relay the orders. "Alright, you boys pop smoke to confuse them while we manouver. We're moving first alright?". I ran over to the wounded soldiers and removed their MOLLE vest. I slung it on and then grabbed one of their LSWs.
The marines who had been upstairs came into view as they ran over to us. "Listen lads, if you got grenades use them first, then put down some suppressive fire". "Team, on me". I ran to the rear exit and turned sharply left, peeking slowly around the corner to make sure the smoke had completely blocked their view. We then ran over to the road, only then could I tell how many there were, atleast 15 jeeps, and over a hundred soldiers. "Okay Falcon, you take our fireteam and enter one of the houses, get to the first floor and you can provide another angle of fire". "Alright mate, where are you going then?". I simply laughed and then ran back to the hospital. The smoke was starting to clear and the two fireteams that were about to flank them were waiting at the hospitals corners. I got inside and looked at the Section waiting to go outside. They were all cocking their rifles and checking their magazines. The Sections Sergeant nodded at me "You ready Colour?". "Yes Sergeant, everyone have a grenade ready, we're gonna throw them and then lay down some suppresive fire. Then while they're shitting themselves tryna deal with the others we can launch our charge". The marines started laughing a little. The wounded men were now quieter and were being seen to. Then there was the sound of gunfire and explosives going off. The Sergeant shouted out "Lets go boys!". We filed out, some of the marines actually screaming war-crys. We threw our grenades at the enemys and let off several bursts of gunfire. As the grenades exploded several screams could be heard and some of the jeeps flipped onto their sides.
We reloaded as we began our charge, the enemy had clearly become disoriented as they fired wildly to their flanks hoping to hit their new targets. I jumped up and over one of the jeeps and fired down into a group of russians, the rounds impacting with their bodys in showers of blood and gore. One of them turned to try and fire at me but the rounds impacted harmlessly in the tarmac. I hopped down and looked around. The enemy were running trying to escape but they had nowhere to go. "Get 'em lads!" the Sergeant shouted. I fired another burst only to have the heart-stopping moment of a stoppage. I whispered the mantra as I performed the drill, "Tap, rack, bang", the round landed in the side of the road. As we chased down the remaining russians we soon had them surrounded. Weapons trained on them the group of maybe 20 russian dropped their AK47Ms and raised their hands in the air. The marines ran over to them, hitting them down with the butts of their rifles as they got them on their fronts so they could secure the plasti-cuffs. The Leuightenant ran out to us "How many casulties have we had?". The leaders of the two Sections ran over to him "None Sir". "None Leuightenant". "Outstanding men, out-fucking-standing! I am putting in for you to get decorations for this operation boys". I walked over to them "As am I. You and your men fought with great skill, capturing 20-odd russians is a feat even by special forces standards". We all made our way back to the hospital and gathered around the two wounded. They were okay, severely injured, but lucky enough to have not been hit fatally. There had been no mortally wounded in the defence of the hospital. However we had lost a man in the main operation.
Me and my squad stood in the pouring rain. We wore our Lovats and green berets as we stood staring at the memorial. "Lance Corporal Martin Davies - France - 2016". We had placed his HK417 infront of the stone with his beret. We had just finished the debriefing, needless to say we were depressed. I knew also that alot of the lads blamed me for the incident. And they were right, I was the commander of the unit, it was my call. And although nobody had said anything directly, I knew that the higher-ups were going to try and take me off combat duty soon. The others left one by one as they each payed their silent respects and last fairwells. As the night closed in I reflected on my journey here. From growing up in Northern England, all the way to standing before the memorial of fallen comrades. I saluted them and then began to leave. I sighed, "Rest easy Corporal"...