the train.
The locomotive driver and his engineer had heard the explosions behind them that shook the train and were straining to look back out of the windows at either side of the cab. They saw the final destruction of the carriage and turned in to look at each other, shocked and completely clueless as to what they should do. The engineer then saw the motorbike ahead as it arrived at the rail junction. He shouted for the driver to look. It only served to add to their dilemma, leaving them with just two options: stop, or keep going. But since they had no communications with the boss two carriages away and were scared to make a decision that could get them shot they agreed to do nothing and keep going. One thing they were sure of: this was not a good day.
Jack leaped off the bike as it slid to the ground and hurried to the charge on the outside of the rail up against the end of the ramrod that levered the track change. It was exactly how he had left it and he studied it quickly without touching anything, unable to identify the fault. A distant crack and another explosion turned his attention to the train as a ball of smoke rose from behind the engine. Then he looked back down at the charge.
The door at the front of Forouf ’s carriage blew in as the coup -ling between his carriage and the leading one disintegrated, separating it from the rest of the train. The wind immediately ripped through uninterrupted with no doors now at either end and as Forouf hurried forward to see what this new destruction was he saw several of his men lying dead in the doorway of the leading carriage as it moved away.
Confusion, frustration, anger and fear brought him to the boil as the locomotive gradually pulled away and one thing became obvious to him. He had been deliberately isolated from his men and the engine.
Forouf hurried to the front of his carriage as some of his men appeared at the rear of the one moving away from him. ‘
Jack gave up on the charge and with no time to replace it he cursed loudly at his bad luck or ineptitude. Whichever, it was his fault. There was nothing more for it than to throw the junction switch manually. The only good news was that at least the job would get done since he’d had niggling doubts about the charge actually achieving the desired effect in the first place.
He dropped to the ground as the train closed on him and glanced up at the cab as it went past to see the engineer in the window looking down at him. As the back of the locomotive shot by he saw men climbing onto its roof. A second later the back of the carriage passed and he jumped to his feet, grabbed the heavy track-change lever and heaved on it. But the rusty joint was tight and barely moved.
Forouf ’s carriage was seconds away.
Jack slammed a foot against a sleeper and with a supreme effort, his shoulder behind it, the lever started to move.
Suddenly, bullets peppered the ground around him, zinging off the rails and slamming into the wooden sleepers. Jack glanced up in mid-effort to see the fire coming from the rear of the carriage attached to the locomotive. His instincts were screaming at him to take cover but Forouf’s carriage was almost upon him and, ignoring the shots that were fortunately poorly aimed, he invoked every ounce of his strength. An explosion suddenly destroyed the back of the locomotive, killing the men who were firing at him and Jack knew that Stratton had seen the shooting. He yelled out loud and as his strength peaked the lever gave in and the ramrod shunted the internal rack across, an instant before the front wheels of the carriage touched it.
Jack hit the ground and rolled away as the carriage flew past but he was not out of danger yet. Forouf had seen him from the window and had grabbed a weapon from one of his men, hurried to the rear of the carriage and opened fire while his men shot from the windows.
Jack was exposed where he lay and, since the carriage was slowing down, he decided that a moving target was better than one lying still and leaped to his feet, pulled the bike up, started it and sped away. Gunfire raked the ground in front of and behind him and he opened the throttle while keeping his head low.
Stratton watched his friend through his binoculars, clenching his teeth, willing him on. Then he grabbed the handset. ‘Mike four zero, go, go, go!’ he shouted.
Two Chinook helicopters carrying the reaction teams had been hovering on standby just above the ground a mile away and immediately raised their tails as the pilots applied full power, their twin rotors grabbing the air and pulling the heavy beasts forward. Within seconds they were screaming at full speed feet above the ground towards the lone carriage trundling across their front.
Stratton stepped from the hide and stood on the mound, his attention focused on Jack as he watched him speed across the desert leaving a broad trail of dust in his wake. ‘Come on, old buddy, keep it going,’ he muttered.
The choppers covered the ground in half a minute and a short distance from the carriage both of them rose up sharply and banked in opposite directions to split their attack formation. The lead chopper manoeuv red sharply in front of the carriage while the door gunner, seated behind a .50 calibre heavy belt-fed machine gun, let rip, sending a hail of fire across its front and down the sides, the intention being to frighten the occupants into ceasing fire. The second chopper came in low behind the carriage, fired a burst across the rear to scare the men with weapons in the wrecked doorway, then turned up the side, crossed beneath the other Chinook, moved ahead several hundred metres and reared up as it made ready to hover, kicking up dust that practically hid it from view. Before the rear wheels touched down, men toting M4 assault rifles and wearing desert combats, loaded webbing, and goggles against the dust, streamed down the rear ramp and split into groups. One of the teams, carrying a long roll of heavy wire mesh, ran to the track, placed it across the rails to cover the width, ran it out for twenty metres and then hurried away to take up firing positions as the carriage drew closer.
Fifty yards from the mesh another team fired grenades in through the carriage’s windows as it rolled past and seconds later it was filled with a dense white smoke. The front wheels rolled over the mesh, which wrapped around and locked them.
The second Chinook landed a team at the first crash site to secure it in case anyone had survived. Then it went in pursuit of the locomotive that was already slowing down, the engineer frantically waving a stained white rag out of the window.
As Forouf ’s carriage came to a halt the men inside practically fell out of its front and rear, coughing and spluttering, eyes streaming and mucus pouring from their noses. Forouf was among them as they were immediately leaped upon, dragged to the ground, hooded and cuffed. Hammad was treated with the same courtesy to avoid him incurring any suspicion and though he was relieved that it was over and that he had lived through it he vowed never to make such a deal again, certain that his survival had been purely by chance.
Stratton jumped off the mound and exhaled with relief as Jack headed towards him.
Jack was elated, not only with the success of the operation but with the rush of having survived the gunfire. He raised a hand and waved, then, deciding to celebrate with a bit of showmanship, climbed up onto the bike’s seat and stuck a leg in the air, balancing the machine carefully over the rugged terrain. Feeling even more confident, he took a hand off the handlebar and raised that too.
The front wheel started to wobble and Stratton shook his head, fully expecting his friend to take a tumble any second.
Jack didn’t see the small anti-personnel mine the size of a cigarette packet half buried in the sand. It had been there for a decade and a half, and had that been all he might well have survived the blast of just a few ounces of explosive hitting the bike’s wheel. But it was a not uncommon trick played by many armies to place an anti- personnel mine directly on top of a vehicle or anti-tank mine, which was the case on this occasion.
The explosion threw Jack high into the air, the bike spinning in pieces beside him. Stratton broke into a run before Jack hit the ground, ripping the
