Andy McNab - War torn

'No, fine. Luke's starting to smile.'

'That's good news, then.'

'Yeah, yeah I know. I just wish I could see it.'

'Not much longer,' Dave said. 'Couple more months then we're home.'

'How's Jenny? Blood pressure OK now?'

'I'm about to find out. But I'm sure she'll have it under control.'

Trish answered the phone.

'Thank God you've rung at last,' she said. 'Jennifer's just gone into hospital.'

'Oh no.'

'They're monitoring her.'

'Oh, Christ.'

'It's all right, Dave, it's the best place for her. I could see by looking at her she wasn't right and I was worried anything could happen at home here.'

'What's going to happen in hospital?'

'She's got pre-eclampsia. It's very serious, for her and the baby. So if her blood pressure goes up much more, they'll have to induce.'

The silence was so long that Trish thought he hadn't heard and she repeated the news, slowly and clearly as though speaking to someone who knew very little English.

Dave was irritated. 'It's OK. I can hear you. If they induce will you be with her? During the birth? Because Adi Kasanita said that she'd-'

'I'll be there. Even though you know very well you should be the one, not me.'

'Don't start, Trish. Please.'

'I'm sure you don't want to hear it and there's never a right time to say it so I'm going to get it off my chest now, Dave.'

She took a deep breath. The satellite phone clicked into the crystal clarity it only attained very occasionally and never when you wanted it to. Dave braced himself.

'There comes a time in everyone's life when their family must come first. You've got a daughter and you'll soon have another child and you've got to start treating them right. They're more important than the British Army, for heaven's sake. You're out there fighting some stupid war for people who're nothing to do with us for no reason anyone can understand. When you should be home with Jennifer. She needs you and you're not here.'

She drew breath and he braced himself for her next blast wave. It was like seeing a bomb fall and waiting for it to go off. 'She's the most loyal wife you could find, Dave, but she's sick of it. I expect she's been too nice to tell you that.'

No, thought Dave, she's told me. She's even put it in writing.

'I know there are women around here who can't take it. Watching the news, hearing about another death. Wondering if it's their man. There's a lad from across the road lost his leg, you know. And another just lost his arm, that's what people are saying.'

'I do know.'

'Well it's too much for some girls always waiting for that sort of news. They look around them and then they find other fellas who know how to treat them. And Jennifer's a good-looking girl, Dave.' Trish's voice was thick with dire warning.

'That's one thing Jen wouldn't do,' said Dave confidently. 'Like you said, she's a loyal wife.'

'I'm not saying she wants to. I'm not saying she doesn't love you. I'm saying you're driving her to it. Now think about that, Dave. Just think about it.'

'OK, Trish, I will think about it. But the fact is that the skills I've picked up in the army don't translate well to the outside world. I mean, they aren't valued. I don't know what I could do out there.'

'I should have thought you could do security work. There's so much crime now that security guards are getting more and more important.'

Dave tried to imagine himself on night duty at a building site, sitting in a wooden box with an electric heater and a TV, plodding around the site at regular intervals. He tried to imagine himself doing any of the things mates who'd come out had done: one was a chimney sweep, one had spent years trying to get a job and now did youth work, one had become a bus driver. He shook his head involuntarily.

'Can I phone Jen at the hospital?'

'You can try. She's not allowed a mobile but you can try her ward. I doubt you'll have much luck.'

Trish gave him the number and he talked to Vicky for a few minutes and then tried the hospital. But he was cut off when his call was transferred to the ward. He tried again and this time he was put through but no one answered. He tried once more but the phone rang on the ward and then went dead. The midwives were probably all dealing with emergencies, he thought. He just hoped Jenny wasn't one of them.

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.