Caesar the War Dog 2 Read online

  ‘There’s nothing Caesar likes better than a swim,’ Ben replied. ‘Apart from HALO jumps.’

  Caesar looked up from his now-empty bowl and his tail began to wag. The mention of swimming and HALO jumps was music to his ears.

  Sergeant Bruce grinned. ‘A multi-talented mutt indeed.’

  At that moment, Major Jinko’s mobile phone rang. Duke Hazard was on the other end, calling from FOB Nero. Jinko answered, then said, ‘Hold on, Sergeant, I’ll put you onto Grover.’ He handed the phone to Charlie.

  Charlie held the phone to his ear. ‘What’s up, Hazard?’

  ‘Grover,’ Hazard said abruptly, ‘be advised that the tracking device we had on Abdul Razah has just died.’

  ‘Its battery’s run out?’

  ‘Unlikely. The tech guys say the battery should have lasted a month, minimum. There’s a good chance the Taliban found the tracking device and destroyed it.’

  ‘In which case, they could be on to us and our op.’ Charlie looked grim.

  ‘Maybe so. Maybe not. The possibility exists.’

  ‘And if they are onto us? Where does that leave us and the hostages?’

  ‘The Taliban could kill the hostages right away or they could vamoose from that cave and transfer the prisoners someplace else. We’ll know if they do move – Special Ops HQ has drones watching the cave entrance twenty-four hours a day.’ Sergeant Hazard paused. ‘But there is a third alternative. The Taliban could just hunker down and wait for us to come to them and fight it out. You should be aware that there’s a strong possibility the hostiles are now expecting us. Do you copy?’

  ‘Copy that. But they won’t be expecting us to come in via the second entrance.’

  ‘That’s the one ace up our sleeve, buddy. Without that, this mission would be screwed.’

  ‘So, it’s all systems go?’

  ‘Roger that. A second heelo has arrived to insert Land Team. From this point on we will communicate via secure comms.’

  ‘Copy that, Hazard.’

  ‘Excellent. Are you and your people good to go?’

  ‘Roger to that,’ Charlie responded.

  ‘Then let’s make this thing happen, my friend. Let’s go extract the Big Cheese from the mousetrap.’

  In the pitch-black of Deep Cave, Liberty Lee crawled over to Dr Park and nudged him awake.

  ‘Secretary-General,’ Liberty whispered, ‘the Taliban are coming.’

  Pulling himself up, Dr Park peered into the darkness. Sure enough, he spotted lights in the distance, growing brighter as they got closer.

  ‘It is not mealtime again – we ate only several hours ago,’ Dr Park said, half to himself. ‘Why are they coming now?’

  ‘Commander Baradar’s deadline must soon be expiring, sir,’ said Liberty. Around them, the other members of the UN party began to stir.

  ‘Are they bringing a doctor?’ Fader asked weakly.

  ‘Yes, a doctor and more food,’ said Mikashi, softly. ‘There is never enough food.’

  ‘Do stop your complaining, Mikashi, there’s a good fellow,’ murmured Jeremy Brown.

  ‘Sir,’ said Liberty Lee, keeping her voice low so that only the secretary-general could hear her, ‘I think I should try to escape and bring help. Before they start shooting us.’

  Dr Park shook his head in concern. ‘That would be dangerous.’

  ‘I am trained to take care of myself, sir,’ Liberty assured him. ‘And I cannot continue to do nothing. Do I have your permission to attempt to escape?’

  Dr Park thought for a moment. ‘It would be best if you did not. Such an attempt might endanger the lives of the others. We must continue to hope that our friends outside are at this moment organising a rescue bid.’

  ‘And what if they are not, sir?’ she asked, sounding frustrated.

  ‘I cannot believe that the world would abandon us, Miss Lee,’ Dr Park said softly. He placed a hand on her arm, reassuringly. ‘Have faith.’

  Before long, Commander Baradar, Abdul Razah and four other Taliban fighters stood looking down at their prisoners.

  ‘Do you wish me to make another video, Commander Baradar?’ Dr Park asked.

  ‘No,’ Baradar replied. ‘There is no more time for videos.’ He motioned to those of his men who were not holding lanterns. ‘Do it.’

  ‘You won’t kill us?’ Mikashi wailed as two of Baradar’s men advanced toward the prisoners.

  The two insurgents roughly took hold of Jeremy Brown, pulling him to his feet and binding his arms behind his back.

  ‘If I must be the first to die, sir,’ Brown said bravely, looking over to the secretary-general, ‘tell my family that my last thoughts were of them.’

  ‘You will not die,’ Baradar interrupted. ‘Not yet.’

  ‘Then why are you doing this?’ asked Dr Park, as two of Baradar’s men dragged Captain Rix, one of the German pilots, to his feet and bound his hands. ‘Why are you tying up my colleagues?’

  ‘The infidels might be coming,’ Abdul Razah blurted out in English, as he held his lantern high.

  ‘Is that true?’ Liberty asked. ‘Foreign troops are nearby?’

  ‘You are a fool, Abdul Razah,’ Baradar said disparagingly in Pashto. ‘A fool whose mouth is larger than his brain.’

  ‘What harm is there in them knowing?’ Abdul said with a shrug. ‘They will all soon be dead anyway.’

  The two insurgents who were tying up the hostages now turned to Liberty Lee, motioning for her to save them the trouble of hauling her to her feet. Liberty quickly obeyed, standing up. One took hold of her arm to swing her around so that her back was to him. As she turned, Liberty noted that Commander Baradar and Abdul were locked in a heated conversation, with the other lantern-bearers looking on. Seizing her chance, Liberty’s right arm swung up and around like a whip, and her elbow crashed into the nearest insurgent’s throat.

  Clutching his throat and gasping for air, the man dropped to his knees. In another swift, fluid movement, Liberty brought her left leg up and around as she pivoted on her right foot, sending her left foot straight into the abdomen of the second insurgent. He doubled-up in pain and surprise. In another rapid movement, Liberty swept the edge of her hand into the man’s neck and he, too, went down. In a blur that made Liberty’s three martial arts moves appear as one single movement, the two Taliban fighters had been downed, allowing Liberty to sprint away into the darkness.

  ‘Miss Lee!’ Dr Park called after her with concern.

  ‘Run!’ Jeremy Brown urged her.

  ‘Allez, vite!’ Loubet concurred.

  Liberty’s actions had been instinctive. Even though she was disobeying the secretary-general’s order to not attempt an escape, she knew that if she’d allowed the Taliban to tie her up, any future attempt to protect the secretary-general would have been impossible.

  ‘Stop her!’ bellowed Baradar.

  With Liberty’s two victims on the ground, Abdul and the other two lantern-bearers grabbed the AK-47s from their shoulders. This took precious seconds, and with the lanterns discarded, reducing the field of light, aided Liberty’s escape. Baradar let off a furious burst of fire in her direction as Liberty dodged and weaved her way across the rocky cave floor and into the gloom. Bullets ricocheted off stone walls and sparks flew, but none hit their intended target.

  Abdul and his two companions, meanwhile, had brought their guns to bear and they, too, opened fire in Liberty’s direction. The sound was deafening, but their effect was zero. Liberty Lee dived into the waters of the pool, disappearing beneath its surface as a hail of bullets sprayed overhead.

  ‘Get that she-devil!’ Baradar yelled. ‘Get her!’

  Abdul, picking up his lantern with one hand and grasping his rifle in the other, hurried to the edge of the pool and surveyed the rippling surface as far as the low light would allow.

  ‘The moment she surfaces, blast her,’ Baradar commanded.

  Minutes passed without any sign of Liberty Lee.

  ‘We must have hit her,’
said one insurgent.

  Abdul nodded. ‘Either that or she drowned. She is finished, Commander. We will not see her again.’

  Baradar turned to his two shaken men lying on the ground, the pair so expertly floored by Liberty Lee. ‘Get up! Get up!’ he growled. ‘What are you – women?’

  Clutching their throats, the pair groggily came to their feet.

  ‘Now,’ Baradar ordered, ‘fit the explosives to the secretary-general.’

  Moving gingerly, the two men pulled a white canvas vest from a knapsack that one of them had brought. As the horrified hostages watched on, the vest, bulging with plastic explosives, was strapped around Secretary-General Park’s torso.

  ‘If infidel soldiers attempt to rescue you, Secretary-General,’ Baradar said with a demonic smile, ‘this vest will be detonated. Pray to your heathen gods that the infidels are not making such a great mistake.’

  It was early evening when Nan Fulton brought her little orange Ford Fiesta to a stop beside the kerb. Bending to look out the front passenger window, she surveyed the Tobruk Road building on her left. In the Fiesta’s back seat sat a sullen Josh and an excited Maddie.

  ‘Nan, you’re not really going to go up to Kelvin’s place, are you?’ Josh asked hopefully.

  ‘Yes, we are,’ Nan replied, unfastening her seatbelt.

  ‘Kelvin’s going to get it now,’ Maddie declared with relish.

  ‘Oh, I shouldn’t have told you that it was Kelvin who took my backpack,’ moaned Josh. He feared it was just going to make things worse.

  Nan turned around to face him. ‘Of course you should have, darling,’ she responded. ‘If anything like this ever happens again – at school, online, anywhere – you let me or your father know straightaway, Josh. The same goes for you, Maddie.’

  Maddie nodded seriously. ‘Cross my heart, Nan.’

  ‘Yeah, but I knew you’d go off and do something like this if I told,’ Josh countered. He looked at the building where Kelvin lived, dread filling his stomach.

  ‘That’s the whole point, Josh,’ said Nan. ‘Young people are often too shy or afraid to stand up for themselves, or just don’t want to cause trouble. Or they think they can handle it themselves – but often they can’t, and things get out of hand. These things need to be nipped in the bud. But we can only help you if you speak up.’ Nan waved a finger under his nose. ‘Do you understand, Josh? You should speak up.’

  ‘Yes, Nan,’ Josh said with a sigh.

  ‘Let’s go. We have a stolen backpack to recover.’

  The three of them emerged onto the footpath. Ahead of them stood a six-storey block of grey brick apartments. Modern and functional, each apartment had glass-fronted balconies. The building’s front door opened into a large foyer. Tall glass windows at the far end of the foyer looked out over the greenery of Anzac Park. Nan ushered them into the lift.

  As the doors closed and the lift began to glide up to the first floor, Josh looked up at Nan worriedly. ‘What are you going to do?’

  Nan squeezed his shoulder reassuringly. ‘Don’t worry, Josh, everything will be fine.

  When the lift opened, Nan led them in search of the Corbett’s apartment, coming to a stop at number 108. Josh’s heart was beating fast. Maddie had gone quiet, and she gripped Nan’s left hand tightly as Nan used her right hand to ring the doorbell.

  A woman in her forties opened the door. ‘What do you want?’ the woman demanded, glaring at Nan and the children.

  ‘Mrs Corbett?’ said Nan with a smile. ‘The mother of Kelvin Corbett?’

  The woman regarded Nan suspiciously. ‘I might be. Who are you?’

  ‘My grandson, Josh,’ began Nan, gesturing at Josh, ‘goes to school with Kelvin. This afternoon Kelvin took Josh’s backpack, and we have come by to collect it.’

  Mrs Corbett frowned. ‘My Kelvin is a good boy,’ she said defensively.

  ‘Good boys don’t bully or steal, Mrs Corbett,’ Nan declared. She held out a hand. ‘Josh’s backpack, please.’

  ‘Bella, who’s at the door?’ came a gruff adult male voice from within.

  Kelvin’s mother suddenly looked frightened. ‘No one, sweetie,’ she called back over her shoulder. She quickly turned back to Nan, lowering her voice. ‘Please, go away. You don’t want to annoy my husband.’

  Moments later, Jerry Corbett was standing beside his wife. ‘What’s going on?’ he demanded, scowling.

  ‘I’ve come to ask your son Kelvin to stop bullying my grandson and to return Josh’s backpack, Mr Corbett,’ Nan stated evenly.

  Kelvin’s father peered at Josh. ‘Ah, Josh Fulton, is it?’ His face lit up in a way that made Josh feel uneasy. ‘The famous Dog Boy!’

  ‘His name isn’t Dog Boy,’ Maddie spoke up.

  ‘I reckon it is,’ said Mr Corbett. ‘With his trumped-up father with his medals and his blunder dog.’

  ‘You’re just jealous that you don’t have a Caesar, mister,’ Maddie said boldly.

  ‘I’m still waiting, Mr Corbett,’ Nan insisted, her hand outstretched.

  Kelvin’s father glared at her. ‘For what?’

  ‘For your son to return the backpack he took from my grandson,’ replied Nan.

  ‘He did no such thing!’ growled Mr Corbett.

  ‘Yes, he did!’ Josh protested. ‘He took it off me on the way home from school this afternoon.’

  ‘Garbage!’ Corbett declared.

  ‘Mr Corbett,’ Nan said calmly, ‘I don’t want to have to report this to –’

  ‘Get lost!’ barked Mr Corbett before slamming the door in their faces.

  ‘Well!’ Nan exclaimed indignantly. ‘We’ll have to see about that. Come along, children.’ She guided them back toward the lifts.

  ‘I could have told you that wouldn’t work,’ Josh lamented. ‘Kelvin’s father is as nasty as he is.’

  ‘That Mr Corbett isn’t a humungatarian, that’s for sure,’ said Maddie.

  Descending from a black sky, a US Army Chinook touched down on a clear patch of ground in an empty valley of the Hindu Kush, five kilometres from Dragon Lake. Within seconds, four heavily armed men and a dog emerged from the cabin’s interior. Duke Hazard, Tim McHenry, Brian Cisco, Mars Lazar and EDD Alabama came down the rear ramp at a jog. All wore night-vision goggles that lit up the night for them in an eerie green. They went to ground in rocks nearby, then covered the LZ – the landing zone – with their weapons.

  As soon as the first group was in position, Hazard waved to the Chinook, and four more men emptied out of the heelo – Willy Wolf, Jean-Claude Lyon, Toushi Harada and Ali Moon. As soon as they set foot on the rocky ground, the Chinook promptly lifted off and soared away into the night. It had been on the ground no more than a minute. Very quickly, the noise of its engines faded away and the silence of the mountain wilderness wrapped around the eight men and their EDD.

  Lying flat on his stomach among the rocks, Duke Hazard checked his portable GPS and then pointed to the southwest to indicate the direction he and his team were to follow. ‘Lazar, take point,’ he called in a hoarse whisper. The night air was so chilly that his breath was visible as he spoke. ‘Move out.’

  Corporal Lazar rose up. With Alabama on a long leash – his nose down as he trotted along taking in all the aromas of the terrain – the pair commenced moving southwest, paving the way for the rest of Land Team. Lazar walked with a carbine cradled in his arms, ready for instant use. Sergeant Duke Hazard, still lying among the rocks near the LZ, unclipped the leather cover from the face of his watch and checked the time on its luminous dial. He nodded to himself. Operation Blue Dragon’s Land Team was right on schedule.

  In calculating the times for this mission, Hazard had allowed two hours for Land Team to cover the five overland kilometres to the vicinity of Dragon Lake. He knew that, normally, he and his men could cover between three and five kilometres in an hour when walking fast over reasonably flat ground. Conservatively, then, two hours was plenty of time to walk five kilometres across this barren landscap
e, despite their heavy weapons load. Once in sight of the lake, the team had another hour to move into position to assault the landward entrance to Deep Cave at Zero Hour before dawn.

  Hazard came to his feet and, M-16 assault rifle at the ready, set off after Lazar. Hazard had designated their marching order before the team left FOB Nero. Without a word, Cisco was the next to rise up, and with the aerial from the big military radio on his back waving back and forth with every step, he took third position in the well-spaced line of men now traipsing over the moonlit landscape. After a pause, McHenry stood and set off after Cisco. Ali came next, followed by Wolf and then Harada. Sergeant Lyon brought up the rear, every now and then swinging around, Minimi machinegun at the ready, to study the country behind them and assure himself that the line of eight international Special Forces soldiers was not being followed.

  Before long, Land Team had melted silently into the night.

  Laura McMichaels, principal of Josh’s Holsworthy school, looked up from her desk and, with a smile, removed her reading glasses. ‘Mrs Fulton, come in, come in. What can I do for you today?’

  ‘Thank you for seeing us right away, Mrs McMichaels,’ Nan said, steering Josh and Maddie to a settee before taking a seat across from the principal. She had driven directly to the school from the Corbett apartment, catching the school principal before she went home for the day. ‘We have a matter of theft and bullying to discuss with you.’

  The principal’s smile vanished, replaced by a look of concern. ‘Theft? Bullying?’ Mrs McMichaels turned to Josh and Maddie, both of them her students. ‘Please, tell me all about it.’

  With the deafening roar of its four propeller-driven engines, a hulking grey Hercules C-130 transport aircraft rolled through the night and drew to a shuddering halt outside the Special Forces hangar at Tarin Kowt. Inside the hangar, Charlie Grover, in the middle of his final briefing to his Sky Team comrades, was forced to wait for the plane to come to a halt and kill its engines before he could continue. As the engines of the Hercules died, its rear ramp came down.

  ‘Looks like your ride has arrived, boys,’ said Major Jinko.