The Final Mile
A SAM POPE NOVEL
Robert Enright
Contents
Chapter 1
Chapter 2
Chapter 3
Chapter 4
Chapter 5
Chapter 6
Chapter 7
Chapter 8
Chapter 9
Chapter 10
Chapter 11
Chapter 12
Chapter 13
Chapter 14
Chapter 15
Chapter 16
Chapter 17
Chapter 18
Chapter 19
Chapter 20
Chapter 21
Chapter 22
Chapter 23
Chapter 24
Chapter 25
Chapter 26
Chapter 27
Chapter 28
Chapter 29
Chapter 30
Epilogue
Get Exclusive Robert Enright Material
Sam Pope Novels
The Power Of Reviews
About the Author
Copyright © Robert Enright, 2020
For Sophie and Olivia,
Chapter One
ELEVEN YEARS AGO…
‘Private Matthew McLaughlin, sir.’
The young man stood firm, his back straight, his shoulders wide. Although a wiry man by design, he’d certainly taken his exercise routine seriously, and had packed on a visible layer of tight muscle. Sergeant Carl Marsden always kept an eye on the newest wave of Privates as they joined the rest of the armed forces, each stepping off the plane with an excitement bouncing around them like they were headed to a music festival.
A few weeks into their first tour, with the Afghanistan heat beating down on them relentlessly and their backs aching, they soon adopted the usual grimace of a soldier.
Proud. But in pain.
Marsden had been in the UK Armed Forces for over two decades, serving as part of an elite squadron battling a corrupt government in South America. It had earnt him a few medals and the respect of everyone he came across, but to him, it was the bullet wounds and battle scars he carried that proved he’d fought for the betterment of the world.
Now, he was stationed at the base, tasked with identifying the potential of each brave soldier and highlighting the elite. Those who showed capabilities beyond the average soldier would be guided down specific paths, where elite task forces would recruit them for missions Marsden knew were strictly need to know.
It was why he’d called Private McLaughlin to his office. The thick canvas walls of the tent flapped gently in the harsh breeze. While they did well to protect them from the sweeping sand of the dusty floor, it also locked the heat in like an oven and Marsden sipped his bottle of water to quench what felt like an eternal thirst.
With the temperature soaring, Marsden had removed his jacket, grateful for the short sleeves of the T-shirt that stuck to his clammy body. While his dark skin was a blessing in the scorching sun, he could still feel the heat emanating from his forearms. Beside him, Corporal Sam Pope had gone one step further, his camo-green vest strapped to his muscular frame. Sam had caught his eye six years ago when he was just twenty-one and had since blossomed into the deadliest sniper he’d witnessed in all his time serving for Her Majesty.
Not only was Sam a gifted and deadly soldier, he was a man of integrity and Marsden had forged a wonderful relationship with the man based on respect and their commitment to doing the right thing. While it risked the wrath of those higher up, Sam had proven himself a few times in a combat situation to value the lives of his comrades and civilians above his own.
Sam would die for the cause if he believed in it.
The UK needed soldiers like him.
Men like him.
Which is why, as Private McLaughlin stood, sweating in his full uniform, Marsden had asked Sam to join him.
‘How long have you been in the army, Private?’ Marsden asked, pretending to read from notes he’d long since memorised.
‘Two years, seven months, and four days.’ McLaughlin’s voice quivered slightly as he stared straight ahead. ‘Sir.’
‘How old are you?’
‘Twenty-two, sir.’
‘Please,’ Marsden said calmly. ‘Sit.’
Mac nodded and then rigidly sat in the chair opposite the desk. The mismatching furniture gave the office the look of a charity shop, but Marsden was grateful for the privacy.
The last thing he wanted was to share with General Ervin Wallace, a man who was as bloodthirsty as he was boisterous. While Marsden didn’t agree with the bulldozer-esque approach of the man, he knew that when push came to shove, there wasn’t anything Wallace wouldn’t do to protect his country.
The young soldier, sat nervously picking his nails, had been on Marsden’s radar for an entire year before Wallace deployed him to the same base as them. Wallace’s orders were for McLaughlin to be integrated into the unit, with Sam Pope to mentor him. McLaughlin had been several levels ahead of the rest of his class when it came to accuracy and distance shooting, stats which Sam had raised his eyebrows at when presented with them.
They didn’t measure up to his but considering Sam Pope’s marksmanship had been the stuff of legend, it was never likely to be.
‘Would you like a drink?’ Sam broke the silence, offering the young recruit a smile.
‘Yes,’ McLaughlin stammered. ‘Yes, sir.’
‘Please, just call me Sam.’
As Sam walked across to the fridge in the corner, McLaughlin smiled nervously. Sam wondered what it must feel like. For him, there was never any doubt he would be a soldier. His father, William Pope, had been a senior ranking officer and with his mother leaving when he was a toddler, Sam had followed him from outpost to outpost. While it had contributed to a somewhat fractured childhood, Sam had blossomed into a bright, brave man built with unscrupulous integrity.
But reading through McLaughlin’s file had painted a different picture. Sat before them was a lippy kid who had been kicked out of school for his bad behaviour. A young man who had had a few run-ins with the law and probably saw this as his last chance to turn his life around. Sam applauded the choice he’d made, knowing that the British Armed Forces wouldn’t so much as beat the bad attitude as reshape it.
Mould him into more.
Into a soldier.
Sam pulled open the fridge, the shaky old machine humming loudly as he pulled a couple of bottles of water from within. He tossed one across without warning.
‘Catch.’
McLaughlin rose to the challenge, his instinct and reflexes working in tandem as his hand shot up, snatching the bottle from the air. Sam nodded his
