Savage Deadlock Read online

  Bolan fell into a brief, dreamless sleep, and was woken by the jolt of the transport landing at Quetta.

  They disembarked without a word and climbed into a truck that took them through the city. It was the largest city in the region, but only a fraction of the size of Lahore. Bolan watched the streets and people go by. They appeared similar to those in Lahore, but given Jinnah’s words about the conflict in the region, he studied the men gathered on street corners and the stares of stallholders and traders as they passed, wondering if any of them were rebels or sympathizers who would pass on news of their arrival to militant groups or terrorist cells.

  The fewer people who saw them or knew of their arrival, the better. Bolan was glad when they were clear of the city and on the winding dirt road to where they would disembark and begin their search on foot.

  He couldn’t know they were about to walk into someone else’s fight.

  Chapter Six

  Ayub and Iftikhar made good time back to their camp, where they were quick to inform their comrades of what they had discovered. With the location of the PWLA camp now in their hands, it was surely only a matter of time before they swarmed over the inexperienced women and gained the prize that would give them the upper hand in the region.

  Preparation was swift. With a skeleton crew remaining in camp to maintain a secure position, the rest of the cell set out for the position pinpointed by the two returning scouts. They proceeded on foot, using caution as they were aware that their route would take them along the edges of territory occupied by rival groups. The last thing they wanted was to attract undue attention with a mass exodus from their known and secured position.

  The early morning was perfect for this. Although they didn’t have the cover of darkness, they had the advantage of hitting the blind spot when most night patrols had returned to their respective camps and before the day patrols had hit their stride. If the timing was right, it was possible to slip undetected through land that would otherwise be under observation.

  The phalanx of men, which numbered ten, kept in a tight pack as they negotiated the narrow channel between known boundaries, but as soon as they came close to the position described by Ayub and Iftikhar, who led the way, they separated so that they could fan out and take cover, then come down hard on the unsuspecting PWLA camp.

  * * *

  THE PAKISTANI ARMY detachment and their two American allies were deposited on a dirt road that seemed to be in the very middle of nowhere. Davis sniffed and looked around at the rock and scrub that surrounded them as the army truck pulled away, a cloud of dust rising in its wake, and squinted at the horizon.

  “They could be anywhere out here,” she commented. “How did your guys figure out that they’re around these parts?” she asked Jinnah.

  The corporal smiled. “I know you do not think much of us,” he said slowly, “but you must at least allow us a knowledge of our own land and our own people. We are not fools. A process of elimination has brought us here, and I’m confident that a search will yield a result.”

  His tone was edged with hostility, which Bolan was keen to dampen. The soldier cut in with an easy smile. “I don’t think Captain Davis was doubting your sources, Corporal, but you have to admit that this would be a hell of an easy territory to hide in.”

  Jinnah nodded. From his tone when he spoke again, it was clear that he found Bolan a more congenial ally than the spiky Davis. “Colonel, this is why we have so much trouble in this region. The people may have intransigence enough to create trouble, but the land gives them the opportunity to make that intransigence last. You could spend years combing the land, and by the time you had mapped everyone within, they could have regrouped and started again behind your back without your noticing them until it was too late. It’s far too easy to hide in here if you really want to. It’s easy to get lost, too,” he added.

  “Then we’re just going to have to trust you, Corporal.” Bolan’s glance at Davis was significant.

  “I’m sure you will, Colonel,” Jinnah said simply.

  He turned and directed his men onto a narrow trail that led up into the foothills. It was a shallow incline, though Bolan felt a pull in his calf muscles as he and Davis fell into step behind the line of military men. Jinnah took point, and led the line using map and compass to keep them on track. Out here, the modern military was reduced to using age-old orienteering methods.

  Bolan stayed at the back of the line, taking the opportunity to keep an eye on the trail behind them. It was a chance to scout out the land without being caught in the middle of the pack. At the same time, with Davis and the army men before him, he had his first chance to assess them without having to interact.

  Faiz and Jinnah seemed to be intent on their task, scanning the area as they progressed. Patel and Asif were keeping to themselves, their weapons held lightly, but their body language belying their tension. They were expecting a firefight to come out of nowhere, and possibly weren’t pleased at having been sent on this mission. Jansher and Zia were in the middle of the line, and Zia kept hanging back to exchange whispered comments with Jansher. The two men eyed the landscape with some anxiety, and they kept casting glances at Davis. These two men seemed the least happy with the mission, and Bolan inferred that this was due, in no small part, to having to carry—as they saw it—a woman.

  Davis, directly ahead of him, seemed alert to any danger. Yet there was something in her stance that suggested caution—not just to any threat from the hills, but to the men around her, as well.

  Bolan could see nothing but trouble ahead.

  * * *

  YASMIN WOKE TO Mahak Lasi’s voice, and when she opened her eyes, the other woman’s head thrust through her tent flap. Yasmin suppressed a scream of shock. At first, in her befuddled, sleep-addled state, she didn’t grasp what her comrade was saying. It was only when she repeated it in an exasperated tone that Yasmin understood the importance.

  “Men this way. Ten of them. Armed. Come on, move yourself. Quick.”

  Yasmin assented, blank-eyed, and didn’t quite get her brain and body into sync before Lasi’s head had disappeared. Yasmin could hear her outside, shouting commands to the others to form into teams, as she struggled to get her boots on and to grab the rifle that she barely knew how to use. The nominal leaders of the PWLA deferred to Lasi at these times because of her experience since running away from her village.

  Squinting painfully at the glare of the morning sun, she scrambled out of her tent and joined the other women as they formed up in the center of camp. Some of them had been going about their daily tasks, while others had been resting. They were in varied states of readiness, and this was making Lasi mad as she tried to yell them into some kind of shape. She directed her anger at Yasmin as she came into view.

  “Come on. You and the Lollywood queen take the western side, and cover me as I scout. You should have spotted this last night—they must have been looking for us. They don’t just come like this out of nowhere.”

  Yasmin had not heard Lasi say so much in one speech since she had arrived in camp, and it drove home the depth of danger they were in. Backing her up as she surveyed the area was a way of making Yasmin atone for whatever mistake she and Suri had made on patrol the previous night, though for the life of her she couldn’t work out how even inexperienced fighters like the two of them could have missed so many men approaching.

  As Lasi moved on to organize the other women, Yasmin found Suri standing beside her.

  “She was giving me shit before you emerged from your pit,” she whispered in acid tones. “She doesn’t like us because we come from the city and she’s just some stupid hill girl.”

  “But she can fight and we can’t,” Yasmin answered quietly. “And if there’s a whole bunch of armed men headed this way, I’ll listen to her and do what she says. What worries me is how the hell we managed to miss that
many out there.”

  “I don’t think we did. We’re not that stupid, no matter what she thinks,” Suri muttered, looking over at Lasi as she directed another small group before turning and catching the two women staring at her. She gestured urgently, and despite her words, Suri fell in beside Yasmin as she ran over to back her up.

  Lasi led them out of the camp and along part of the route they had taken on their night patrol. They passed along the narrow passage with an overhanging rock shelf and on to where that morning’s patrol had caught sight of the approaching group.

  By the time that they had traveled out to that spot and taken cover, they could only sight eight of the ten reported enemy fighters. The men advanced and spread out to take up a pincer formation around the PWLA camp as they progressed. Taking down the eight they could see would be difficult enough for the three of them, no matter how good Lasi was as a hill fighter. But with two hidden men out there, the task began to seem impossible.

  When the first shots resounded, the three women were momentarily thrown. The gunfire had not come from any direction they could have expected.

  * * *

  JINNAH HELD UP a hand to stop his men. He looked up from the map and turned back to them with a puzzled expression. He murmured something to Faiz, who listened and glanced at Bolan, beckoning him forward. When the soldier reached the front of the line, he immediately knew why the corporal and his number two had pulled him up. He could make out the sound of people moving across the rocks, the rattle of disturbed scree indicating that there were more than a few of them.

  “They know what they’re doing,” Jinnah said softly when Bolan was in earshot. “It’s not the women.”

  “They may have learned,” Bolan pointed out, not wanting to close down any possibility. The last thing he wanted was for the military to shoot first and ask later. “Okay, it’s unlikely,” he added, seeing Jinnah’s expression. “I’m just saying we should be careful in more ways than one.”

  Faiz agreed. “Could be. We need to check it out first.” He indicated for the others to gather near. As they came close, Bolan noted that although Davis drew nearer, she still held back, which concerned him.

  “We split into pairs and fan out from this point. Scout for enemy locations. Avoid fire and use hand-to-hand or blades if possible. Wireless silence unless absolutely necessary.”

  “How do we communicate, then?” Davis asked.

  “We’ll have one wireless call in fifteen. Synchronize now,” Jinnah returned. “Call sign, affirmative or negative for sighting. No more.”

  The military personnel and Bolan agreed to the plan. Davis was silent. Jinnah paired the men off, taking Davis for himself and putting Bolan with Patel. The soldier liked the Corporal’s thinking. He knew Jinnah was uneasy about Davis because of her attitude, but the corporal didn’t have the same doubts that others in the party had made obvious.

  But Davis shook her head. “I go with Stone,” she said.

  Bolan’s gaze scoured the group. It was obvious that Davis’s refusal had gone down badly with them. They stared at her with contempt. Jinnah’s eyes met Bolan’s, and the soldier could read Jinnah’s unspoken question. He nodded briefly.

  “Davis, you’re with me, but I want you to know we can trust these guys. Let’s give them a reason to trust us.”

  “Vin, you’re with me, then,” the corporal said to Patel. Under the circumstances, it was no surprise that the Pakistani soldier looked relieved.

  Jinnah issued directions, then he moved from the security of their position with Patel following him. They watched the two men move out of sight before Zia and Faiz headed off. Jansher and Asif were next, leaving Bolan and Davis alone in the hollow formed by the rising hills on each side of the trail. They could hear the men retreating, the small sounds of their progress blending in with the distant noises of the enemy group.

  Davis counted off thirty seconds and made to move. As she did so, Bolan held her back.

  “Don’t do that again. We need these guys. The objective is more important than whatever issues you’re dealing with.”

  Davis stared him down. “Is it an issue to trust my countryman over those who’ve sided against us? I want to achieve the mission objective, too—I just think we have different ideas on how that can happen. Now, if we’re going to do that, then we shouldn’t be down here, should we, sir?”

  Bolan started to advance, although there was a lot more he wanted to say. But in one respect, she was right. They had to move right now.

  The rise and fall of the rock and the scrub that punctuated it gave them scant cover, but still made it hard to spot any other parties. Their enemy would be better at concealment in this territory, despite the experience Bolan and Davis both had.

  But there was no time to think of this. Keeping low, they swept across the rocks. They couldn’t see any of the Pakistani soldiers, which was an indication of their compatriots’ knowledge of the terrain.

  They moved around south by southeast, circling out and away from the direction they had been headed just a few minutes before. If anyone crossed their path, they could trail them or try to take them down, if the need arose.

  Bolan wondered whether they had stumbled on the PWLA, or if they were encountering a male rebel cell. It might make a difference in terms of combat, but he had an even deeper concern. Jinnah had been sure that this area was not populated by any other groups. If there was a raiding party invading the area, did that mean Bolan and Davis weren’t the only ones on Yasmin’s trail?

  Who was this other group, and how much did they know? The situation seemed increasingly complicated.

  The sudden volley of shots only confirmed this.

  Chapter Seven

  Jansher and Asif crawled around the rim of a small cluster of rocks. They took each step with care so that they did not disturb any loose scree and make their presence as obvious as the men they were tailing. The landscape offered small gullies and narrow passages in which a man could hide. Many of these were invisible to the naked eye, and even a man who knew the terrain like the back of his hand could be easily deceived.

  The two military men exchanged glances. Neither wanted to break the silence, and they could see the fear and tension in each other’s faces. Sweat spangled their foreheads and gathered on their top lips. Asif’s tongue flicked nervously, and he darted his eyes toward a small patch of scrub that he was sure hid a gully. He had seen a dark-clad figure flit across the rock just a few hundred meters ahead of them as they emerged from their starting point. He couldn’t be sure that they hadn’t been spotted, and had held Jansher back behind the cover of the outcrop.

  If they were to take down the man in the gully, then they had to do it without raising an alarm—no gunfire. Asif shouldered his rifle and drew a combat knife from the sheath under his shirt. He showed the blade to his compatriot and indicated that he would take the lead. With a gesture, he told the younger man that he should circle around and cover him from the blind side while he approached the gully head-on.

  Jansher shouldered his own weapon and drew a blade. He nodded his understanding and took a deep breath before moving out into the open, dropping low as he sought whatever scant cover he could find.

  Asif watched him go, allowing him to gain some ground before starting his own action. Jansher was circling wide, and there was no way Asif was going to head straight to the gully and be caught with no cover as the younger soldier lagged behind.

  Asif had seen combat action, but every time he came face-to-face with his own mortality he felt that lurch of fear in his gut. He tasted acid in the back of his throat and gulped it down, adrenaline running through his system and making his legs tremble.

  This was the hardest part—the wait, the countdown. He ticked off the seconds in his mind, his partner now lost from view. The temptation to hurry the count was almost overwhelmin
g, but he knew how stupid that would be.

  Three...two...one...

  He emerged into the open, dropping down and crawling across the rock. It was hard and painful on his legs, the stones bashing his ankles and knees and tearing at his combat pants. He could ignore it, but wondered if the pain would cripple him when he had to straighten up.

  No time to worry. If he stopped to think about anything other than his objective, then he was as good as dead. The adrenaline in his system would mask the pain; it also made time stand still as he slithered toward the gully, praying to Allah that the shooter in hiding would not see him first.

  Glancing around, he spotted Jansher ducking between two small humps of rock on the far side of the gully. At the same moment, the head and shoulders of an opponent emerged from cover, facing away from Asif. From the set of the man’s shoulders, Asif could tell that he had a rifle in his hands and was taking sight of his companion.

  Now it was imperative that he act quickly—not only to spare his comrade, but also to prevent a shot from raising any alarm.

  Asif launched himself forward across the remaining space, ignoring the noise he made. Time, not stealth, was the imperative now. He flew across the last couple of meters and down into the gully, landing in the narrow space behind the enemy shooter.

  The rattle of pebbles and the scrape of his combat boots made the enemy fighter swing around abruptly in the narrow space. Asif caught sight of a lean face with a scrubby black beard and hair hidden beneath a knitted black cap, his dark eyes wide in surprise and anger at being caught out.

  The rest was a blur as Asif came up against the man. The man held an AK-47 that he was attempting to train on Asif’s head.

  Asif was too quick. As he slammed against the rebel, he forced the barrel up against the man’s chest. He felt the man’s knee come up swiftly to meet his groin and had just enough time to twist his hips so that the greater force of the blow was absorbed with discomfort rather than crippling pain. As he parried this blow, Asif brought back his knife arm as far as he could in order to get some power behind the upward thrust that drove the blade up and under the man’s sternum. The blow was softened by the layers of clothing that swathed his opponent, but Asif had put his full weight into the thrust, and there was enough behind it to penetrate skin and flesh. He drove the knife home and twisted.