The room was a mess. There was a low bed up against one corner and piles of clothes dotted around. A bad smell of stale sweat: this was obviously a guy’s room. The guy in question was on the ground just next to the bed. The Malinois had its jaws clamped round the target’s forearm and had sunk its teeth into his flesh – Danny could see the dark stain of blood. The screaming had stopped. The target was staring blindly into the darkness, but he clearly knew there were men approaching him. His fear of them appeared to have overwhelmed the pain of the dog’s bite.

  Tony reached the target first. He put one foot on the man’s chest as Dexter made a clicking sound that instructed the dog to release his jaws. Tony removed a torch from his ops waistcoat and shone it directly in the target’s face. The target winced, but even at a distance of a couple of metres, Danny recognised his face from the photographs at the briefing. This was their guy. No question.

  Tony looked back over his shoulder at Danny. ‘You can check his bollocks, Black,’ he said. ‘Try not to feel him up, eh?’

  Danny almost smiled. He knew Tony, and he knew now why he hadn’t been told to guard the family. But he wouldn’t give Tony the satisfaction of thinking he felt humiliated by this job. He approached the target as Dexter stuffed a rag into his mouth to keep him quiet and Tony kept his boot on the guy’s chest to keep him pinned down. He was wearing loose trousers with a cord at the top to tighten them. Danny yanked them down to expose his genitals. The target squirmed violently, forcing Tony to jab into his breastbone with the heel of his boot. Danny shone his own torch between the target’s legs.

  The Yanks had clearly done a job on him back in the day. The skin on his inner thigh was scarred white and there were piebald patches where no hair grew. There was a stench from his crotch that made Danny want to retch, but the scarring gave them the positive ID they needed.

  ‘It’s him,’ Danny said.

  ‘Get the biometrics,’ Tony said.

  This was Dexter’s job. As the target writhed on the floor, he removed a cylindrical iris scanner and a hard plastic DNA sample kit from his ops vest. He knelt down, placed his left hand over the target’s face and held his right eyelid open. He placed the tube-shaped scanner over the eyeball. The scan took a fraction of a second. Dexter yanked a hair from the target’s head and deposited it into the sample kit, then took his utility knife and, since the blood from the target’s forearm was potentially contaminated by the dog’s saliva, deftly slashed the target’s cheek for a blood sample. The target squealed impotently, but couldn’t shout out because of the rag in his mouth. Dexter swabbed the blood, stashed the sample and stood up again.

  ‘Done,’ he announced.

  Tony turned to Danny again. ‘You’re the new boy,’ he said. ‘You do it.’

  Power play again. Danny didn’t care. He removed his Sig and stepped up to the prone man. Target Red could evidently see a little better than when they’d first burst into his room, thanks to the open door. As Danny straightened his arm and aimed the suppressed handgun at his face, it was clear that he knew what was coming. His writhing became more vigorous, the animal-like squealing from behind the rag more desperate. Danny had to do it quickly. Any more noise from the target and there was a risk that he would alert others in the village to their presence.

  Danny released a single round. The suppressed weapon made a dull, knocking sound. The 9mm round slammed into Target Red’s forehead. There was a burst of brain matter from the skull. The body flopped suddenly still. The squealing stopped.

  ‘One more,’ Tony said, his foot still on the target’s chest.

  ‘He’s dead,’ Danny replied.

  ‘I said, one more,’ Tony growled.

  Danny inclined his head. He released a second round into the face of the target, whose features split and melted with the impact. Almost before the round had hit, Danny was holstering his weapon and turning towards the exit. ‘Let’s get out of here.’

  ‘Not yet,’ Tony said. He removed one of the two Makarovs, propped it up against the wall just beyond Target Red’s corpse and took his NV camera. He made a ten-second film of the weapon – doctored evidence, since there were no other weapons in the room, that their target had militant tendencies – then handed the camera to Cole. ‘Upload it,’ he said, then he went to retrieve the pistol. He turned to the others with a grin. ‘Anyone up for a medal tonight?’

  Dexter returned the grin. ‘I’ll have a piece of that,’ he said.

  ‘Take your plate hanger off,’ he said.

  Dexter did just that. He held up his body armour. Tony released a single round into it. ‘Okay,’ he said. ‘Put them back on. Your firefight with this cunt will make good reading in dispatches.’

  ‘You kidding me?’ Danny breathed.

  ‘Shut your pie hole, Black,’ Tony said. He crouched down by the target and pressed the corpse’s fingers around the Makarov to capture his prints, then dropped the weapon into an evidence bag and stashed it in his rucksack.

  ‘Tony.’ Dexter’s voice was quiet. He had moved to the far side of the room as he put his body armour back on. Here there was a wardrobe and a table. He had lifted something off the table and was holding it up. It was a military helmet, almost indistinguishable from the type the unit members themselves were wearing.

  Tony and Danny stared at it for a moment. Danny remembered the SF gear Tony had shown them back at camp. Nobody picked a helmet like this off the shelf. They cost serious money. They were too expensive for regular troops.

  ‘Fat fucking lot of good it did this muppet,’ Tony said. Danny, who knew him well, could tell he was trying to sound unconcerned, but he wasn’t managing it. ‘What’s that next to it?’ Tony walked up to the table. ‘Bomb-making gear. We didn’t even need to fuck around with the Makarov.’ He held up a bunch of wires with a nine-volt battery attached – clearly a blasting cap. A small handheld detonator. Two blocks of military grade C-4 in black wrappers. A plastic medical syringe and small phial, which he examined closely. ‘Mercury,’ he said. He made a short film of the bomb-making gear, then stowed the objects in his ops vest. ‘You never know,’ he muttered, and turned to Dexter. ‘Leave the helmet,’ he said. ‘It’s no good to us and we’re carrying too much gear as it is.’ He strode to the exit.

  Danny, Dexter and the dog followed him out into the courtyard. Danny took a moment to stop and listen. He couldn’t determine any sounds outside the compound. No indication that anyone had heard them at their work. There was some light spill from a moving torch in the family quarters, however. He raised his NV tubes and approached the door without their benefit, following Tony in.

  Cole had been efficient. As expected, there were three other figures in the room. A woman, a little boy and a little girl. They were lying face down on a threadbare rug. Their wrists were plasticuffed behind their backs, and their ankles were also bound. Danny couldn’t see their mouths, but he knew they were stuffed with rags because they were all crying and the sound was muffled. Cole stood over them, pointing the Maglite torch attached to his weapon in their direction to make it clear to them that they were under surveillance.

  Tony raised his weapon. For a moment, Danny thought he was going to nail the woman and kids and stepped forward to stop him. Mindless butchery was not part of their remit. But Tony didn’t fire. He spoke. ‘Did you find a key?’

  ‘In the door,’ Cole said.

  ‘We’ll lock them in. We can tip off the ANA to free them when we’re out of here. Get moving.’

  Cole killed his Maglite. Danny re-engaged his NV as they turned their back on the prisoners and exited. Cole locked the room from the outside.

  Time check: 00.13 hours. They’d been in Target Red’s compound for approximately eleven minutes.

  ‘Eagle One, this is Delta Bravo Niner. Target Red is down. Awaiting your green light to advance on Target Blue.’

  ‘Delta Bravo Niner, that’s a go. Repeat, Target Blue is a go.’

  The unit moved in patrol formation towards the exit. Danny had the layout of the village, and their route to its western side, fixed in his head. But he was glad to know they had guidance from above. Something about finding that SF helmet had unnerved him. There was something about their enemy that they didn’t fully understand, and he didn’t like the idea of them being properly equipped. The Regiment’s strategy was to dominate completely. Harder to do that, when the other guy has the same gear as you. So as the unit turned left out of the compound, it was good to hear the drone operator’s voice over the earpiece.

  ‘This is Eagle One. Continue on your bearing for one hundred metres. You’ll pass two buildings on your left then hit the irrigation ditch by the forested area that extends from the north of the village. Remember, you’re using that forested area as cover to skirt west around the village to the next target.’

  ‘Any movement of personnel in the vicinity?’ Danny said.

  ‘Negative. You’re good to go.’

  They moved with purpose, Dexter and the dog taking the lead, the dog sniffing and scanning. The only sound was the regular crunch of the unit’s footfall. The two buildings that they passed were a bombed-out compound covered in weeds and an empty barn that smelled strongly of goat shit. The wide field of view of Danny’s NV goggles illuminated the featureless desert to their east, but he kept his attention on what was straight ahead.

  It took a minute to reach the irrigation ditch. It was a narrow trench, just a metre and a half wide and a metre deep. The treeline was three metres beyond it. The unit crossed the ditch and penetrated the treeline by just a couple of metres.

  ‘This is Eagle One. Follow the treeline in a north-westerly bearing for 250 metres.’

  The drone operator was merely confirming the route the unit was already taking. Now that the ground was softer underfoot, they moved ghost-silently through the forested area, the trees deeper in the forest passing the edge of Danny’s vision in a blur.

  ‘Go static! Go static!’

  They had moved a hundred metres on their north-westerly bearing when the drone operator’s voice crackled in their ears. Danny immediately hit the ground. The rest of the guys did the same. Danny could hear the tense breathing of the Malinois, and could smell its pungent breath, as he looked towards the treeline, listening hard.

  Nothing.

  Then . . .

  ‘We have two heat signatures thirty metres to your south,’ the drone operator said. ‘Moving towards your position.’

  Danny adjusted his orientation fractionally. He was in a prone position, his rifle stretched out ahead of him. He made use of his rifle’s night sight to penetrate the darkness.

  Was it voices he could hear?

  He held his breath. Definitely voices. One male, one female. There was a giggle. Twenty metres away. Nothing more.

  ‘If they see us,’ Tony breathed over the comms, ‘we nail them.’

  Ten seconds passed. ‘They’re fifteen metres from your position,’ the drone operator said. And as the voice crackled in Danny’s ear, he saw movement towards the irrigation ditch. He aligned his weapon.

  ‘Is the dog ready?’ Tony said.

  ‘Roger that,’ Dexter replied.

  ‘Ten metres,’ said the drone operator.

  Danny kept his breathing shallow.

  Sudden silence.

  ‘They’ve changed their bearing,’ said the drone operator. ‘Moving away. Remain static.’

  ‘Did they see us?’ Tony asked. His voice had a cold edge.

  ‘Negative,’ Danny breathed.

  ‘They’re moving south-east along the irrigation ditch,’ the drone operator reported. ‘You’ll be good to move in sixty seconds.’

  It felt like twice that long as Danny remained in the prone position. Complete silence surrounded them again.

  ‘That’s a go,’ said the drone operator.

  As one, the unit rose and continued moving north-west through the trees.

  A minute later they emerged beyond the treeline at the edge of the Helmand tributary. Danny could hear the faint trickle of water running along the riverbed. The tributary itself was only a metre deep and maybe ten metres wide.

  ‘You’re good to cross,’ came the instruction from the drone operator.

  The unit forded the tributary in patrol formation, their boots splashing on the thin trickle of liquid as they passed the central point. After that, they returned to the treeline, now heading in a south-westerly direction for a further 200 metres, the drone operator occasionally confirming that their way ahead was clear.

  Target Blue’s compound came into view even before the drone guy told them to halt. The north-eastern corner of the compound butted up against the forested area. Each member of the unit knelt down in the firing position, their weapons fanning out in a semicircle formation as they waited for a further update.

  ‘This is Eagle One, we have a similar set-up in the Target Blue compound. A woman and child have just entered the south-western building. Expect the target to be in the north-eastern one.’

  Danny pictured the rectangular compound that they’d examined on the satellite maps. It was divided in the middle by a central wall running east-west. The northern half of the compound had a door in the western wall, the southern half in the southern wall.

  ‘Any movement of personnel?’ Tony asked.

  ‘Negative,’ said the drone operator. ‘Gentlemen, I can give you another two minutes.’

  ‘We’ll enter through the southern entrance,’ Tony said. ‘That’s the furthest away from where our guy is sleeping. Black, we’ve got no bollocks for you to feel up, so once we’re in the compound you’re on kid duty. Make sure the fuckers don’t squeal. Gag them up if you have to. Let’s move.’

  They emerged from the treeline at 00.44 hours in patrol formation and skirted along the western edge of the compound. To their right was a poppy field. A hundred metres up ahead was another irrigation ditch and, beyond that, more fields. The unit kept close to the western wall of the compound, making almost no noise as they headed to the south, turned a corner and approached the door on the southern wall.

  ‘This is Eagle One,’ said the drone operator. ‘Time to fly. You’re on your own. Goodnight, gentlemen.’

  Nobody replied. They were too focused on the job. Danny knew he was going to be sent over the wall as before. He grabbed a roll of duct tape from his pack before that happened. He looped it on to his right arm for quick access.

  Their method of entry was the same as for Target Red. Danny scaled the wall with the bolt cutters, then checked the courtyard for threats. This compound was more littered with the stuff of everyday living. There was a fire pit in the centre and several bicycles up against one wall. A tree grew up in the middle of the courtyard, under which there was some welding equipment. Beyond it, the wall bisecting the compound. The door in the middle was slightly ajar. A long, low room ran along the eastern side of the courtyard, with a ramshackle external staircase leading up on to the roof. Danny knew that his personal targets – the wife and three kids – were in the room directly to the left of the door.

  He silently cut through the padlock to let the others in. There were no instructions. Tony, Dexter and Cole headed straight across the courtyard towards the open door in the bisecting wall, the dog prowling by their side. Danny turned his attention to the room on his left. Access was via a wooden door with peeling paint – impossible to tell the colour through his NV goggles. As the others disappeared from view into the northern half of the compound, Danny felt for the looped plasticuffs in his ops vest, then removed his suppressed Sig and approached the door. He pushed it open with one foot and carefully entered, weapon engaged.

  He immediately saw that the room was tidier than the quarters where they’d nailed Target Red. Robes hung on the wall, and there was a smell of soap. Four low beds sat in a line against the far wall, each of them a metre apart. Three of the beds contained small, sleeping figures, each under a sheet. But the one on the right contained an adult woman. She was sitting up, eyes wide but staring blindly in the darkness, a sheet pulled up to cover her nakedness. Through the green haze of NV, Danny could tell she was terrified.

  And that she was about to scream.

  His instinct was to fire. He suppressed it. Instead he surged forward, covering the five metres between them in as many strides. He couldn’t stop the beginnings of the scream – it cut through the air for a fraction of a second – but he soon curtailed it with one large hand pressed firmly over the woman’s mouth and nose. She wriggled with the fury of a mother who knew that her children were under threat.

  The kids were stirring. Danny cursed himself for having allowed the woman to make even the slightest noise. With his free hand he holstered his Sig, then removed the roll of duct tape from his arm. He peeled off a strip and stuck it firmly over the woman’s mouth before winding the tape twice round her head.

  ‘What the fuck’s going on in there?’ Tony’s voice came over Danny’s earpiece.

  ‘It’s under control,’ Danny said. He quickly bound the wriggling woman’s arms, then her ankles, before turning his attention to the kids. They were a lot easier to subdue: a short strip of duct tape over each mouth, plasticuffs round the wrists and ankles. In under a minute he had four figures face down on their beds. They were squealing and crying behind the duct tape, but the noise was subdued. The mother was the problem. She kept trying to sit up and wriggle her way off her bed. Danny had no option. He took the butt of his Sig and cracked it against the side of her head. The woman collapsed. Danny twirled the Sig and pressed the barrel against her face, as if daring her to make any noise. She got the message and fell silent, although she continued to tremble with fear and rage.

  Maintaining that position, Danny listened hard for any sound of the rest of the unit going about their work. There was nothing. All he could do was watch over his four prisoners until he got the word to extract. He found himself concentrating on his next move. Their pickup point was two kilometres to the south-west. Without the benefit of the drone overhead to keep surveillance on their route, they needed to get away from the village as quickly as possible. It was only a matter of time before someone discovered evidence of the two hits. When that happened, distance was the unit’s best friend. Danny was impatient to leave.