Andy McNab - Exit wound

‘No problem, mate.’ I knew I should have said James at the airport. Never mind, he was coming around.

Majid inclined his head in a mock-bow. ‘After you have visited the Russian stand, I can take you to see the director of Shahid Hemmat. You will like this company very much, James. It represents the very best of our Iranian technology. Doubtless you heard of the rocket that Iran put into orbit last year? The company that built it was Shahid Hemmat. You will be able to give your editor a real exclusive, believe me.’

You had to hand it to him. When his days in the Revolutionary Guard ended, he could always become a salesman for Iran plc.

In the middle of the M3C stand was the SA-16M, the missile that Kettle had asked me to look out for. It was spotlit from above and the placard beneath it was printed in Farsi, Russian and English. A number of salesmen in mega-smart suits tried to get eye-to-eye as Majid and I studied the latest addition to their company’s product range. I wondered how much of a discount they offered for gold.

For once, Majid was out of his depth. M3C wasn’t Iranian and he had no authority here. What he really wanted to do was to haul me next door, so I could big it up with the guys who’d pitched Iran into the ballistic-missile club – or, as he put it, ‘The peaceful pursuit of the commercial space business.’

The Russian stand was among the biggest and slickest at the show. Behind the weapons and the display boards, there was a reception area staffed by two heavily made-up girls with orange electric-beach tans, their heads covered with red scarves. Their eyelashes fluttered like electrocuted daddy long-legs. Just beyond them was a row of office windows. Shadows moved behind half-closed blinds. A squat Russian with a shaved head came out and barked at the salesmen, then disappeared.

I stepped up onto the stand and approached one of the mega-suits. ‘Do you speak English?’

‘Leetle…’

‘Jim Manley, ADTM .’ I handed over one of my business cards.

One of the other suits stepped forward. He’d gone to the trouble of Anglicizing the name on his card. It read: ‘Paul (not Pavel) Sergeyev, Media Relations’. Great, the company spin-doctor.

‘Hello, how can I help you?’

I explained who I was and what I was after. The mega-suit and Paul (not Pavel) went into a huddle with one of the girls who began hitting her keyboard.

I turned to see Majid deep in discussion with a little guy in a white turban and brown robe at Rockets R Us across the way. He must have been warming him up for me.

Paul (not Pavel) reappeared by my side. ‘Mr Manley, please forgive me for taking so long with my colleague. We just wished to check your magazine. Of course.’

His flawless English carried a hint of an American accent. ‘Now, please let me show you our wonderful SA-16M.’ He pointed towards the missile with an open hand, like a game-show host introducing tonight’s star prize.

I followed Paul (not Pavel) the few steps to the missile. ‘Mr Manley. Your magazine, it’s a good publication. I have just seen that we have our people translate it for our technical staff.’ He smiled. ‘They learn much from it. What do you need to know about the SA-16M?’

‘You could start, I guess, by telling me something about its status. Is it in production yet?’

‘Yes, yes, it’s in production.’

‘And what’s so special about it? The SA-16 has been around for years.’

He nodded. ‘It remains a favourite with our customers.’

I didn’t remind him that a whole load of those customers were terrorists. ‘So, talk me through it.’

Paul (not Pavel) lifted the green tube off its stand. He stood with it on his shoulder. ‘The SA-16, as I’m sure you know, Mr Manley, has no IFF interrogator. The SA-16M – the improved version you see here – retains the simplicity and robustness of the original design but adds the IFF interrogator. We are conscious that customers demand high levels of safety and assurance from the weapons that we sell them and so we have provided Identify Friend or Foe technology in our product. Nobody wants to be responsible for… What do you British call it? A blue-on-blue? A friendly-fire incident, anyhow…’

‘Is that it?’

‘Well, there are some further modifications, but it would be wrong of me to discuss them in any depth.’

‘Countermeasures? It’s got to be. It’s all about getting the missile past the aircraft’s defences, isn’t it?’

‘You know your subject, Mr Manley. You look like you were once a military man…’

‘I was in the British Army. Way back. We used to fire the Blowpipe system. Not the easiest of man-portable weapons to use.’

Paul (not Pavel) laughed sympathetically. He was right. Blowpipe was a heap of shit. ‘I, too, was in the army, for many years. That is why I know this is an excellent piece of engineering for the man on the ground.’ He shrugged a little to adjust the weapon still on his shoulder. ‘It is completely fire-and-forget. It is so simple, a child could use it. And, with the SA-16M, the added bonus is that it is effectively immune to all the very latest countermeasure systems.’

I pointed at the missile. ‘I hear the seeker’s faulty.’

He laughed again, but uncomfortably this time. He took it almost as a personal insult. ‘No, these rumours are just that, rumours. We have been improving the seeker’s capability. It has been a period of development, not repair.’

‘Could you knock down an Apache with one of these?

He paused. ‘Mr Manley, you are drawing me into a technical discussion that I would prefer not to have. So let’s just say that with the SA-16M and even the non-IFF version, the SA-16, we have found an ingenious way of combating dark flares. That took some time to perfect. But if you know how to discriminate against dark flares, then you can defeat all countermeasure systems. You understand what I mean?’

I nodded. I did.

‘I expect you would like a simulation, yes?’

He handed me the missile launch tube. It felt pretty much the same weight as the Stingers I’d used in Afghanistan – against the Mi-24 Hinds these lads had flown in the eighties. Paul (not Pavel) looked the right sort of age to have been there. I threw it onto my right shoulder.

Paul (not Pavel) directed me to look through the sight. ‘First thing you must do is position the aircraft within the range ring – you need to keep it positioned there throughout the engagement sequence. The SA-16M is an all-aspect missile, which means you can engage the target from any angle. You understand?’

I nodded.

‘Next, you must interrogate the aircraft to see if it is friendly or not. The IFF interrogation switch is on the left-hand side of the gripstock. Here. You’ve got it?’

I felt for the switch with my thumb.

‘If the aircraft is friendly, it will transmit a coded signal back to the IFF interrogation system within the launcher. The system emits an audible signal that tells you whether the aircraft is confirmed friendly, possible friendly or unknown.’ He flicked a switch on the simulator console.

I heard a succession of short electronic beeps coming from the missile by my ear.

‘You hear that? That tells you the aircraft is a confirmed friendly.’

The beeps changed into a succession of longer signals.

‘This means possible friendly…’

The longer beeps changed into one continuous signal – a high-pitched wiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiii .

‘And this means the aircraft is unknown – for our purposes, therefore, it is the enemy. Clear so far?’

Clear, I told him. It was very much like a Stinger, but easier. Like he said, a child’s toy.