The father knew well enough to take the commander seriously.
‘Now listen in,’ the commander said, facing his men. ‘We have experienced a great atrocity here today. Two things must happen immediately. Someone must drive to where there is a phone signal and report what has happened and get a response team down here right away. The other thing that must happen is we have to find the ambush position and in which direction the ambushers went. We have to find out as much as we can so that when the response teams arrive they can immediately start to track them down. Is that understood?’
None of them said a word.
‘I can go make the call,’ Pandi’s uncle offered.
‘No,’ the commander said. ‘I need you to help search for the ambushers. Pandi is the youngest and least experienced so he can go and make the call.’
‘I’d rather help search for the ambushers,’ Pandi said.
‘And last time I checked I was in command here and you will do as you are ordered. Let me tell you all one thing in case you have not considered it. This is going to be the most high profile incident that has happened to this force in many years. I can’t even think of anything like it, other than during war time. Everything that happens, every action we take, every word we say will be recorded and examined by every authority in the country, all the way to the top. Is that understood? So from this moment on, stay sharp, do your duty and keep your mouths shut unless you are asked.’
Judging by the expressions that faced him, the commander was satisfied his exhortation had been well received. ‘Okay then. Let’s get organised. All of you get your gear. Make sure your weapons are ready for use. We’re going up the hill to search those woods. Go!’
‘Do we have to wear our body armour?’ one of them asked. ‘It’s very heavy and that’s a steep hill to climb.’
‘What would you prefer if someone starts shooting at you?’ the commander asked sarcastically.
The man shrugged, not looking entirely convinced. ‘The ambushers have gone,’ he said.
‘Idiot! Go! Wear your armour!’
The men walked off.
‘Shall I take the car or the truck?’ Pandi asked.
‘The car. And have all of your equipment. Make sure you have your weapons ready. Look sharp. Do you know who you are going to talk to?’
‘Our headquarters.’ Pandi shrugged as if it was obvious.
‘Who?’
Pandi shrugged again, this time because he wasn’t sure.
‘The highest possible rank you can find. And what will you tell them?’
‘That this happened. Five of our men shot dead by unknown ambushers.’
‘Correct. Ensure you report that I am in immediate pursuit and that we need as much support as possible. Tell them to send the army. Remind them that as we are near the border the attack could involve foreign nationals.’
‘You mean it could have been Serbians?’
‘Anything is possible. But don’t say that in your report. We have no idea who it was until we find evidence. Get going.’
Pandi hurried off to get his gear while the commander joined the others who were ready to go. He was handed his body armour which he pulled over his head, grabbed his rifle and walked to the edge of the clearing that opened up to the vista. ‘Move out! In a line!’
The men got into position either side of him.
‘We walk down to the bottom then up the other side. When we reach the trees I’ll give fresh orders. Keep your eyes open. Concentrate. We’re looking for any signs. If you see fresh tracks or anything you think could be evidence, call out and we’ll stop and assess what we have. Any questions?’
The men were looking at the ground ahead, some thinking about the hard work it represented, others worried about meeting the killers.
‘Let’s go,’ the commander ordered and he set off down the slope.
Pandi left the cabin with his gear and headed for the police car. He glanced over at the BMW to see the father sitting in the open door. As Pandi reached his vehicle there was a single, sharp gunshot. His immediate thought was that his colleagues had engaged the ambushers. He heard voices. Shouting. There was a scream of extreme anguish.
Pandi dropped his stuff except for his rifle and ran to where he could look down on the others. They were halfway down the slope, in short shrubbery, scurrying around. One of them was lying still, face down in bracken.
Another shot echoed across the open ground and one of the men flew back as a bullet blew out between his shoulder blades. The others started to run back up the hill the way they’d come.
Pandi felt helpless. He aimed his rifle at the woods but couldn’t see anything to shoot at. Another shot rang out and another officer fell dead. Three seconds later a shot killed one more.
Pandi considered running to the car and driving off to get help as the commander had ordered. But that would mean deserting his colleagues. That was one of the things his brother and uncle had lectured him on; the patrol was a family. Everyone looked after each other. That meant not only drinking together but also fighting together.
He looked down the slope to see two men left – his uncle and the commander. They still had a way to go to reach the top. He knew what he had to do.
He ran to the truck, scrambled into the back and to the PKM machinegun. It wasn’t loaded. An ammunition box was on the floor. His hands trembling, he ripped it open, pulled out the long belt of linked bullets, raised the top cover, slapped the bullets onto the feed tray, dropped the cover, wiggled the bullets because the tray wouldn’t shut
