men erecting the mortar, grabbing the tube and angling it.
Campo had the carry case. He slid out the white round with black markings. ‘Direct lay. One round illumination. Half load. Elevation one zero niner.’
‘Round up!’
Matkovic adjusted the charges at the base of the round.
‘Round up.’
‘Hang it.’
He slid the round into the tube and held it near the rim.
‘Hangin’.’
‘Fire!’
In one fluid motion Matkovic slammed the round downwards and ducked below the muzzle. A bright flash of light illuminated their position for a split second before the round popped high above them and lit up the entire area.
They found cover behind a low wall, with the overpass and a ditch between them and the apartment block. It was already heavily damaged by the tremors, the whole structure listing to one side, lumps of concrete swaying on twisted metal rods. The few trees still standing were shredded and leafless. They moved forward to the first wall between them and the building. A mortar swept in and one side of the wall disappeared in a cloud of debris. PLR troops swarmed out of the destroyed structure.
Black was first over the remains of the wall. On the other side was a concrete sewer ditch. There was nowhere to go but down into it. He flattened himself against the opposite side, away from the PLR fire.
Montes jumped down behind him.
‘Welcome to Tehran. Please leave the facilities in the condition you found them.’
He tapped Blackburn on the shoulder and pointed. Beyond a pile of rubble that had blocked the canal downstream, the carcass of a cow lay on its side, bloated with gas.
‘Better not hit that.’
As he said it the carcass took a direct hit, drenching them in foul smelling fluid.
‘Shit and shit again.’
‘You said it, man.’
A flare drifted past, illuminating a machine-gun nest on the second floor. Blackburn poured fire into it as they ran to the side of the building.
‘Frag their ass. I’ll cover. Get that grenade out.’
Montes ripped out the pin, doing a split second check to see that he had both ring and pin, and lobbed the grenade. The machine-gun nest dissolved in a cloud of concrete.
The Humvee column had now advanced beneath the overpass and had made a left turn into the city. A wrecked Nissan truck, half obscured by the rubble from a demolished building, blocked the way. Blackburn was fifty metres away. He could see Lieutenant Brady yelling while half a dozen of his men tried to remove the obstacle. Two gunners gave cover from the Humvee’s turret-mounted machine-guns.
Montes closed up behind Black.
‘Dickhead shouldn’t have gone ahead. What’s up his ass?’
Brady spotted them.
‘You, what the fuck you looking at? Get down here and help move this fucking wreck now.’
They started to run towards the convoy as one of the Humvee gunners keeled over. Brady pointed up at where it came from.
‘Suppressive fire. Now!’
Montes, Matkovic and Campo fired into the building. The blockage was cleared. Brady was back on the radio to Cole.
‘
They heard Cole’s reply on their headsets.
‘
Brady pointed at Black.
‘You, you’re riding shotgun with me. Climb aboard soldier. Next stop Ministry of the Interior. Let’s go get a piece of Bashir.’ Brady heaved himself behind the wheel, Blackburn beside him. ‘
‘
‘
Brady grinned at Black.
‘Let’s go fetch.’
They rolled past another set of PLR bullhorns, still blasting Al Bashir’s message. Brady swerved into them and laughed maniacally as they were flattened under the Humvee’s wheels. Then, without warning, a car appeared right in their path where the road narrowed. Brady flattened the brakes.
‘
The convoy shuddered to a halt. Brady’s turret gunner poured fire into the car and it erupted in flames, but the bullets were still coming from a window above. Precious seconds went by as each vehicle engaged reverse, while fire rained down on them, dust filling the air as tracer rounds ricocheted into the sky. The turret gunner screamed and slumped to one side, his face gone. Brady grabbed Blackburn by the shoulder.
‘Get up there! Make it count, Sergeant.’
The dead man collapsed on to the seat behind Brady as Blackburn took his place and the Humvee roared backwards.
Brady was shouting into the radio again. ‘
They cleared the fire area. Brady yelled up at Black.
‘Good work, soldier. Let’s go cut this snake off at the head.’
The Humvee surged forward down a parallel street to the one they had just vacated. Ahead, smoke billowed from a tall building, a massive crater in its side as if it had been hit by a plane. An Osprey swooped in and hovered above, the rotors’ wash blasting smoke around the building. Blackburn saw the rear hatch open and two gunmen take up position.
‘
The men spilled out down the ropes on to the roof of the smoking Ministry. Brady slewed the Humvee to a halt and was out before it stopped. Blackburn looked round for Montes and Matkovic, saw them and pointed at some cover behind a stranded bus, but the guns round the building had fallen silent.
Black waved them towards the entrance.
‘We’re with you, Sergeant.’
‘Okay you guys: watch for friendlies as you clear.’
Most of the personnel had either fled or taken cover. The lobby was awash with broken glass and abandoned files and boxes. An attempt to evacuate had failed as the occupants simply ran for their lives. Loose paper floated in the air, whipped up by the downforce of the Osprey. Above they could hear the shouts of the men who had roped down, clearing rooms and floors as they went.
‘We have a runner on the stairs.’
Black rushed forward as a figure exited a stairwell, hesitated and then turned away from them. Brady, distracted, missed the moment.
‘Take him, take him.’
Black threw himself at the man and collapsed on top of him, winding him. A binder shot out of his hands and skidded along the floor. Brady, right behind, thrust the muzzle of his M4 into the Iranian’s ear.
‘Let me at him.’ Brady pushed a boot against the man’s shoulder, treading on his insignia. ‘Colonel: good. Prepare to die, Colonel. Your war just ended.’
