Sun of the Sleepless (58 page)

Rey understood that he had already lost a functioning member of his crew.

'Keep low and follow me, I'll take care of you Ramsey.'

A flare suddenly fired just beyond the tree line facing the front of the farmhouse but it did not quite break through the canopy of tree branches and limbs swaying above it. The glowing orb released from the firing mechanism tried to force its way through the thick firs but only managed to bounce between a few tree trunks before fluttering back to earth in a haze of fizzing light and billowing smoke.

'How did they get so close without setting off the other flares?' Akosua grumbled, glancing round at the poised and ready Private crouched next to her. 'We covered that approach with wires -'

Further down the upstairs corridor, Rey exhaled a slow steady breath as he watch the flare through the window of the master bedroom of the farmhouse and he spoke almost absent-mindedly in a low soft tone.

'They'll be here soon -'

He mentally ran through the positions of his own troops, ten of them stationed with him in the farm itself and a further two hidden in the rise behind the compound armed with a 7.62mm general purpose machine gun and ready for suppressing fire. He had meticulously examined the maps of the area and assessed the likely approach routes with Sergeant Loftus, a highly experienced military man who had seen action all over the world, both within the British Army where he had gained his professional training and as a member of the Order.

They had determined that the hill to the rear was not a viable approach route since the tree line was too far from the compound itself. They had agreed that the likely attack point would come from the front via a couple of directions, concluding that Special Forces would be incisive, surgical; they would not attempt an open charge in the face of defending fire. The flare seemed to confirm their belief.

Loftus had five Brothers and Sisters on the ground floor, Akosua was commanding two in the other bedrooms and Ramsey sat nervously crouched at the rear of the master bedroom with Rey. Their survival as individuals and as a team now relied on timing rather than firepower - timing that would enable them to complete their mission and by some miracle, would also allow them to escape.

A sharp blast suddenly barked from out of sight from behind the barn where the vortex cannon was hidden and it was obvious that a Claymore mine had just exploded, possibly claiming a victim. It was swiftly followed by a crash and a burst of gunfire which seemed to indicate that a squad of Special Forces troopers had forcibly entered the barn

Rey nodded to himself as he took in a deep breath; this was it!

'Suppressing fire!' he yelled as he aimed his rifle.

All at once the sharp whack of gunfire coughed out from the front windows of the farmhouse, the combined onslaught of eleven L85A2 assault rifles aiming at designated target zones to put the attacking enemy on edge.

The old wood of the barn splintered and burst as Loftus directed his team to fire volleys of 5.56mm rounds into the building, the intention being to hamper any relaxed examination of the Scammell truck and its cargo.

The bedrooms were being used to provide suppressing fire aimed at the tree line and small fountains of frozen soil and snow mingled with the shattered bark of the trees as bullets sprayed the area.

Almost immediately, the hidden attackers replied with bursts of automatic fire, the stuttering roar pocking the bricks at the front of the building, dampening the initial energetic delivery of fire. Rey had assumed that any attack force would try to 'wait it out', only contemplating a direct assault once their deployment was fully identified.

He knew that the assault team could easily have remained well hidden in the trees, using snipers to take out his own troops until the odds were entirely against the defenders. He knew that the burst of gun fire was just a show of force, retaliation with no specific intent of killing everyone inside.  The thick walls of the old Scottish farmhouse ensured that something heavier would be required to oust them from their castle.

Another Claymore blasted its contents of ball bearings packed around an explosive core and Rey guessed that another trooper had gone down. Soon enough, the Special Forces team would decide that they had tried the softly softly approach and would want to finish their day's work.

'Akosua! Loftus!' he shouted. 'Fall-back!'

'Aye Aye!' came the hoarsely cried reply from somewhere downstairs and the intensity of the barrage of gunfire that had been blasting from the ground floor windows reduced appreciably as Loftus led three of the team away, bundling themselves through a back door and heading for the stone walled garage built onto the rear of the farmhouse.

The heavy footfall of boots on the narrow wooden staircase could be heard as Akosua reacted to the command and started to order her team to join the remaining two defenders firing from the ground floor. A roar suddenly growled through the open door of the kitchen, emanating from the garage, the sound of the Jackal engine being revved up ready for a speedy exit.

Rey glanced back just as the wooden frame about the window he was kneeling beside splintered under the smash of a couple of bullet rounds and he squinted and ducked as he looked towards Ramsey who had disengaged from the battle and was now cowering in the corner.

'Time to go!' he shouted above the continuing cacophony of gunfire.

'Come on, move it!'

Ramsey did not move, he just seemed to mouth some words that were never actually articulated, his wide eyes betraying the terror that blanketed him and which constrained his actions to simply wrapping himself into a tight ball as he sat on the floor and rocked back against the wall.

A faint but sudden whooshing sound caught Rey's ears and he looked sharply out of the window again, just in time to see a giant black insect leap from behind the cover of the trees, a pouncing exoskeleton that appeared to be intent on landing directly onto the farmhouse roof above them.

He instantly recognised it as a Dauphin helicopter, probably from 8 Flight Army Air Corps and known to support the Special Air Service in counter terrorist operations. Rey could also see that rather than giant claws that would rip away the tiles of the roof, the sleek black buzzing insect was fitted with a rocket propelled grenade launcher and it seemed to be aiming straight for them.

'Fucking move it!' he managed to yell, jerking backwards and intending to grab Ramsey to physically drag him down the stairs but the steaming hiss of the sound of a rocket being fired caused him to immediately throw himself to the floor.

The fug that suddenly enveloped him was liked being swept under a torrent of molasses, the thick tide buffeting him and robbing him of sight and sound. It gradually gave way to the muffled sound of bricks and mortar collapsing, the crack of slates falling from the roof and smashing. As he regained his senses, he looked up and through the plasterboard of the ceiling that had been blown away by the pressure blast of the rocket exploding in the attic space and he could see a gaping rent that opened to the sky above.

In spite of the destructive effect, it was clear that the SAS had fired a warning shot, deliberately aiming at the roof section of the farmhouse rather than the rooms below, however, the ensuing damage had caused enough carnage even without fatal intent.

Rey looked around slowly and blinked a couple of times as he was confronted by a clogging mist of plaster and brick dust, a few beams of wood protruding through the skin of the ceiling like broken bones that had ripped through the flesh in a compound fracture.

He scrabbled forwards and saw Ramsey covered in broken pieces of roofing tiles and heavy bricks, a trickle of blood oozing from a head wound where a falling piece of masonry had gashed his skull. Rey called his name and patted him, a small cloud of dust billowing up to join the gently settling detritus around him.

As he stared at the unresponsive figure, he suddenly became aware of a voice calling his name from downstairs.

'It's alright, I'm alright,' he shouted out, 'but I need a medic up here!'

The sound of small arms fire continued from the ground floor but the rapid clumping of boots against the wooden stairs indicated that somebody was running back up to the master bedroom.

Akosua suddenly appeared at the door, breathing heavily and starting to cough as the dusty air immediately gagged her windpipe.

'We just managed to take cover as it came in,' she gasped before she noticed Ramsey lying on the floor under the rubble. 'Is he alright, did he get hit?'

Rey glanced out of the window, anxious as to whether another attack run would be attempted so soon.

'I don't know, check him out.'

Akosua ran into the room and fell to her knees next to the limp body, feeling for a pulse, checking his eyes, calling his name.

'I think he's gone sir.'

Rey looked at her sharply.

'Are you sure?'

She nodded without saying a word.

'Fuck it!' he exclaimed as he pulled a grimace of anger. He thought for a moment before looking once again at Ramsey.

'Come on, we need to move, we're leaving!'

Captain Colin Lewis was an experienced troop commander of the Special Projects wing of the SAS and the officer in charge of the assault on the compound. Peering intently at the farmhouse through his binoculars, he spoke through his intercom to his troop leaders.

'I think that took a couple of them out. They're either going to make a break for it or they're about to go out in a big blaze of glory so either way its going to get a bit noisy - get everyone ready!'

As it was imminently about to transpire, he was correct on both propositions.

The explosion that suddenly ripped forth from the barn was immense and beyond all expectations of the kind of munitions that the assault team had expected to see. A gigantic fireball burst through and out of wooden building, blowing away the corrugated metal roofing sheets and planks of the walls and tossing them into the air like playing cards. The eruption glowed demoniacally as a ball of fire enveloped the whole building, sending what resembled a small mushroom cloud up into the air and leaving towering flames in its wake.

The barn was now completely ablaze and it was clear that there was no way any fire crew would ever get it under control. The whole place would undoubtedly be reduced to a pile of ashes and smoking timbers before its contents could be examined. Through the raging flames, the broken skeleton of a truck buried beneath a pyramid of blazing timbers could just be made out, although the cannon itself was now nowhere to be seen having been literally blown apart.

The explosion had acted as a signal and there came a dull crash from behind the farmhouse accompanied by the heavy revving of a big engine before Lewis' earpiece suddenly spiked as a communication was urgently relayed.

'Four terrorists exiting rear of farmhouse in a Supacat Jackal -'

The Captain rolled his eyes and shook his head.

'Take it out, I don't want them ripping up the Scottish Highlands, all bricks, prepare to move in on my order -' he said, readying his four-man teams for an entry assault.

With a roar of torque, the Jackal accelerated out of the garage and the powerful 6.7 litre engine motored the heavy vehicle up the rough track at the rear of the compound and started heading west. As it gained speed, the prowling Dauphin helicopter made another leap from behind the cover of the tree line, bearing down on its surprisingly sprightly prey.

The pilot deftly changed the attitude of his aircraft ready to launch another rocket propelled grenade but his attention was suddenly arrested by a flash of light and a puff of smoke bursting from the middle of the Jackal. Almost too late he realised that his own attack had just been pre-empted.

'Shit!' he exclaimed as he jerked the cyclic stick to one side and twisted the throttle of the collective, the engine groaning under the sudden application of power necessary to haul the machine out of its inertial flight path to avoid the oncoming missile fired from Private Wilson's shoulder launched RPG.

The helicopter just managed to break off from its original course, the rotors churning the air madly as it dived to one side, however, a blast wave suddenly shook the cabin and an array of warning lights start to blink as alarm sirens shrieked.

'Arseholes!' the pilot peremptorily exhaled through gritted teeth as he tried to manoeuvre the helicopter, the controls betraying some sustained damage as they became sluggish and unresponsive.

The Dauphin had not suffered a direct hit, but even so, the rocket had exploded on a proximity fuse and the subsequent blast wave had been powerful enough to damage the rear rotor unit, blunting the further effectiveness of the helicopter in an attack role.

'AS2 breaking off,' the pilot calmly relayed through his microphone as he wrestled with the controls, 'emergency landing required, be advised, Jackal is armed with an RPG.'

The surface to air confrontation had only lasted a few seconds, but in those moments the fire fight had been injected with renewed energy. Seeing the Jackal burst out from the farmhouse, the two-man team that Rey had positioned on the side of the hill had started to provide covering fire with their GPMG, raking the farm compound, drilling holes into the stone of the farmhouse and blasting rounds at vantage points that the enemy were probably using for cover.