Sabre Six : File 51 (24 page)

They were not stupid. These people knew that some kind of military operation was going on around here for their top man to be assassinated. It was time to open up, and it might just get me off. It wasn’t long before the men walked on over to me
, picking me up like a rag doll. I got my bloody head kicked in for half an hour, and I was barely alive by this time, let alone capable of coming out with some monkey cover story.

The senior twat put his boot on my head and trod it into the now blood-sodden mud. I let out a little yelp: it was excruciating. He told his colleagues to pick me up and tie me to the tree again. I stood upright, looking into his eyes; he returned the gesture and smacked me in the mouth for my trouble.

“Good morning, my little English friend, and how are you feeling today? We all hope you’re feeling good, don’t we
, men!” He turned round, and the others replied with a laugh and a cheer. It was now time to play the fame game, or my time was up for sure.

“I will ask you again English man, what is your n
ame?” I thought quickly; I had no choice really but to answer him – if not, I would probably be dead by nightfall.

“My name is Kevin.”

His head shot upright; he threw his fag down onto the floor. “Well, Kevin, maybe you have just earned yourself a little water. Let’s see what you’ll do for a little food. Tell me, Kevin, How old are you, my dear friend? Do I pronounce your name correctly, Ke-vin?”

“Yes, you do. T
hat is correct. I am 34 years old.”

He seemed pleased
with his progress, as the others looked on. They relaxed their weapons, knowing that I was no longer a threat, just a harmless man standing, half dead, in front of them. He passed me a stale piece of bread and pushed it gently into my mouth.

“It looks like these villagers have treated you roughly haven’t they Kevin? It is ok though, we sorted the big one out. He became a little too familiar
, shall we say.”

“We are not here to hurt you Kevin. We want to help you. We only protect ourselves you see; we do not want war, only peace, but your Western friends keep coming back for more, don’t they Kevin, I wonder why that is. Can you tell me Kevin?”

“Because they are idiots, money-grabbing fools. Greed, that’s what it’s for, greed!” He seems happy with my answer.

“Tell me
, Kevin, what are you doing out here alone in Pakistan so close to our border?”

“Sorry, I don’t know what you mean
, Sir!” He pressed his face closer to mine.

“What I mean is, why you are in this country, why did you walk into this village, who are you working for? I am very confused!”

“Oh, sorry, Sir! I am a medic, Sir, a British aid worker; a medic for small villages like this. I was in a helicopter, but when I woke up I was on the ground. We must have crashed, Sir. I can’t tell you any more than that, as I do not know, Sir. I am sorry!”

“You are just a medic? Just a plain little medic, doing his bit to help the villagers in these small communities? Excellent, Kevin, excellent! Now come! You may eat something better.” He untied me from the tree; re-tied my wrists behind my back and marched me over to his hut. Once I was inside, the chief tied me up on a chair, where
I stayed for up to three hours. My arse was killing me; it felt like I’d split my crack.

The chief gave me a bowl of rice and a piece of
pita bread; I couldn’t use my hands, so I dunked my head in the bowl and scoffed the lot up like a baby. It tasted fucking amazing!

“Is that good, Kevin? I bet it has been a while since you last ate, hasn’t it, Kevin?” I agreed with everything he said.

He sat back in his armchair looking straight at me with his brown, stinking eyes. His scaly beard was dirty and gritty; he looked like a filthier version of Bin-Laden. I licked the bowl like a dog that had not been fed for a week.

I kept my eyes on the guards. T
here were four in total, and two villagers, all standing there watching me eat. I knew a chance of escape was not yet on the cards: it was impossible; I hadn’t the strength to start with, and in fact I was in a bit of a shit state.

“Kevin, we need to talk
a little longer, and maybe – if you tell me what I want to hear –
maybe
we could get you some medical help.  Who knows! It depends on you, Kevin.”

I finished off licking my lips from the gorgeous food.

“Sir, I do not wish to sound rude, but before we start, would it be possible to get a little water, as I have food stuck in my throat, Sir, and then we may continue.” I blagged a few coughs and got my water.

“Come, Kevin, tell me
– what you are doing here?”

“I have al
ready said. I was in a helicopter which crashed. I must have been thrown from it because I don’t remember landing anywhere, and I woke up in this village.”

“What was your mission here, Kevin?”

“Mission?” I played dumb.  He sparked up a cigarette.

“Yes, the mission. What are you here for Kevin? What unit are you from?”

“I don’t understand, Sir. I am from no unit. I am not a soldier Sir; I’m just a medic, here to help you kind people. We help give jabs to children and young mothers to stop infection, Sir, that is all. I am no soldier Sir.”

“Show me on this map where you crashed Kevin, I need to know.”

I had to think quickly. “I don’t know where we crashed Sir; I only know the village on the map where we were off to, to help the people.” I was very weepish in my actions, I was shitting myself.

“Good. Show me!”

“It was around here, Sir. That’s it, just about there.”

“That is good Kevin. You may rest now.”

“Take him away!”

I was dragged back outside, and then thrown back into the pit. It was getting cold out, and m
y legs were shaking like mad. I had no teeth left to chatter. I needed to escape, and I spent hours cursing this fucking chain. Why a metal chain, the bastards!

I remember falling asleep,
and I definitely remember the damn rats eating me alive: I woke up to find one of them munching on my leg, the cunt!

“Pick him up!
” The big boss man got his gophers to lift me up, and they threw me in the back of his van. By the time I hit the deck I was gagged and hooded, completely blind to the outside world.

I could feel the van struggling in the mud as w
e pottered down a track, evidently sliding from one side to the other. It must have taken us at least ten minutes before the driver got out of first gear. I could smell the rotten stench of cigar smoke; it was disgusting and made me gag.

Just for moving I got a belt across the face, I kept quiet after that. The wagon stopped. I could hear someone close their door, someone was walking alongside the van, and I couldn’t help but wonder why and where they were going. I kept still, trying not to attract any adverse attention. The door opened, people were chatting away, but I couldn’t understand a darn word. Someone grabbed hold of my legs, and I was dragged out the back of the vehicle like a piece of meat.

“You bastards, untie me! I’ll ‘ave ya, you rotten stinky rag-heads!”  I wasn’t best pleased with my new friends.

As I hit the deck, I smashed my head on a small shitty rock
– the only rock in the whole shitty area, no doubt, and I head butted it. Just my luck! I was left on the floor with a hole in my head, with blood pissing out. To them I was dead already, just another Western bastard.

They continued chatting away to one another for a further fifteen minutes
or more; don’t worry about me, lads, down here bleeding to death!

The relief I felt as the hood was taken off my head! My eyes needed to adjust; I was squinting like a possessed child. To my relief they continued
their generosity by untying me. I tried to stand up, but my legs gave way and I fell back to the floor.

“Pick that thing up now!” He ordered his men to grab me off the ground.

I had a bad feeling that I was going to die here and now. One of the guards smelt it and pus
hed me back down onto the floor; he was kicking me for being so filthy. One of the other guards walked over with a large rock that he’d found on the side of the track and threw it at me. He wasn’t happy that he missed, but I made him aware that I was frightened of him, which gave him a sense of power. He left me alone then.

Once they’d picked me up, we began walking further up the track. My legs were starting to function as they were meant to now. I tripped over once or twice, but nothing major. Most of the armed guards just beat me as we went along
, so I was constantly on edge.

At one point, I was so exhausted that I fell to the ground. The guards beat me even harder. I felt the boot go in when one of them kicked me in the ribs: it bloody killed! I was soon short of breath, and another one was just about to stamp on my head. If it had not been for the boss, who came back along the track, I would have probably been in serious trouble. These fuckers wanted my head!

He gave his guards a right bollocking in front of me. It didn’t go down too well, and I was punished even harder now for making them look foolish. We stopped; I was given a little rice served to me on the mud on the floor. Perfect, I thought! The water I was given was a mixture of piss and spit: very nice! I drank it with pride, licked my lips and asked for more. Fluid is fluid, and without it, I’d die very quickly. Just by looking at the ground ahead, I knew we were heading back over into Afghanistan. I was afraid my body wouldn’t withstand much more of this punishment, and I knew I would definitely be auctioned off to the highest bidder if I did make it.

The pace was bloody fast to start with. Yep! I got another beating. This time they held me down and one of the guards poked his finger into my head wound. I screamed in agony, la
shing out at him, but in return I got a day’s water rations cut. I wept to myself, but then realized I was wasting more fluid, so I stopped and became angry with myself instead: much more useful. My plan was to walk on whilst attempting to plot and map out an escape plan as quickly as possible. The track was muddy, filthy and rocky, and my feet were in a shit state. I was still naked, with bare feet; I had blisters, prickles, cuts, dirt, everything going on down there: it was horrific. My arse was just as filthy. I had black soggy shit all up my back and upper legs; my face was covered in blood, and I looked like I’d just had a makeover for a magazine shoot as a vampire. I was missing most of my teeth too – what a sight!

The track
got steeper, and I dug deep to make it to the top. It was a single muddy track, but the steepest part was now over. We bedded down for the night in a small cave about 1300ft up in the mountains. One of the guards set up camp and made a very small fire to keep warm. They had their meals and left me in the corner to rot. I had nothing. It was a long night, and I had been awake for most of it. I felt bitterly humiliated, being very angry and upset for getting into this predicament. How it had happened to me was textbook! The caves had seen a lot of action in their time, probably going as far back as prehistory. I could definitely tell we were in Afghanistan by the shell holes in the rocks from their old Russian comrades some time back.  An escape plan was out of the question: it would have been impossible. I literally had to grin and bear it right up to the last minute, and then, just maybe, I would get myself out of this mess. Perhaps Joe would come to my rescue.

In the morning, we continued on our journey, descending the mountain into a small valley with a pond on the right side, a small dwelling on the opposite, and a small herd of cattle. As we passed, the inhabitants seemed shit scared of our presence, continuously waving and greeting us, praying that we would bypass their little home as soon as possible. One of the soldiers walked up to a woman and asked for a glass of water; he wiped away the spillage and we carried on.  The ground was hard going as we descended further into the valley; the pass was bloody hard work. If we slipped, to our right side was a bloody big drop, probably around 200ft. When we reached the bottom of the rocky feature we stopped to catch our breath for ten minutes, and the boss man walked over to me.

“Are you thirsty
, English?” I nodded calmly and gently, lowering my head as I did so for sympathy.

“You take, drink – drink! Give him a little foo
d! We need him to keep going.”

One of the guards walked over to me and threw me the tiniest piece of pita bread, which I quickly bunged in my mouth. My mouth was foami
ng with pleasure, as it was the first bit of food in two days. I had been without water for about twenty-five hours.

“We must rest now, sit down
for a while. Come Kevin, come and sit here!” He motioned for me to sit next to him.

“Tell me, what are you really doing here? There is no need to lie to me
, Kevin, I am not stupid. We know it was you that killed our friend across the valley, so please do not lie to me.” I swallowed my tongue. Shit!

“Sir, I have no idea what you’re on about, Sir. I am a medic, Sir
, that is all. Do I look like a soldier to you? I am nothing more than a harmless medic; I’ll show you what I can do if you untie my hands.” They remained tied.