Jeff Edwards

The Iceman


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take long to reach us and it would hem us in between itself and the wreckage ahead if we didn’t keep moving.

      ‘The boy’s screaming for us to help him, Sergeant. I’m going out there with the first aid kit,’ announced the lieutenant. ‘Don’t worry, I’ll take one of the men to cover me.’

      ‘No! Don’t!’ I screamed into the radio. There was no response from the lieutenant. ‘Fuck!’ I swore. ‘Weapons to the ready!’ I called to my men as I pulled open the roof hatch and aimed my automatic rifle at the bend where I expected the pursuing tanker to appear at any second.

      Suddenly, everything happened at once. Just as the tanker rushed around the bend there were a series of screams from the front of the convoy. I concentrated on the approaching tanker while holding my hand up in the universal signal for ‘stop’, but the vehicle continued to approach, its speed undiminished. The carrier’s radio squawked to life. ‘The lieutenant’s down! The little bastard on the ground has stabbed him!’

      ‘Where’s his backup?!’ I screamed into the microphone as I took aim at the cabin of the truck.

      ‘I can’t see him. I don’t know where he’s gone. We can’t leave them out there!’

      ‘Hold on! I’ll be right there!’ I yelled and I opened fire at the oncoming vehicle. The window on the driver’s side of the truck starred as my shots thudded home, but suddenly small-arms fire was bouncing off the side of my carrier as his passenger returned my fire. At the same instant a number of gunmen popped up from their hiding places beside the road and opened fire on our convoy.

      I moved my point of aim to the truck’s passenger while trying to ignore the rounds coming from the side and was relieved to hear the men below me shooting through the small slots in our carrier’s sides and forcing the hidden gunmen to duck behind cover.

      My shots had their effect and the passenger slumped in his seat, but the tanker kept on coming. I quickly slotted in a fresh magazine and continued firing. Steam rose from the truck’s radi-ator as its motor was blown apart by my rounds and it finally slowed to a halt. I kept my finger on the trigger while raising my aim to the storage tank itself.

      ‘Move, damn you, move!’ I screamed at our driver as my last shots found their mark and the gases inside the empty tank erupted in a ball of flame.

      With a lurch my carrier jumped forward and we pulled up beside the commander’s vehicle. Bullets continued to bounce off our thick metal sides and my men returned fire on our hidden attackers.

      In the dust beside his carrier the sprawled body of the lieutenant lay with a knife stuck deep in his exposed throat. His first aid box was resting open beside a pool of blood and his supposed patient was nowhere in sight.

      I caught sight of a movement beside the road and watched in shock as a group of men dragged the unfortunate soldier who had been the lieutenant’s backup into a nearby copse of trees.

      Instinctively I clambered out of the top hatch while loosing off a burst of fire over the retreating men’s heads. Knowing that I had to force them to release their prisoner and what fate awaited him if I was unsuccessful, I jumped onto the road from the top of the carrier.

      As I hit the dirt I took a step forward to begin the chase and fell flat on my face as my ruined knee collapsed and sent me sprawling. That saved my life as a volley of shots passed over my prostrate body and bounced off the side of the carrier. I tried to return fire on the retreating figures, but they disappeared from view.

      The men inside my carrier returned fire as I managed to scramble to safety under our vehicle.

      ‘Damn!’ I swore, knowing that my one opportunity to rescue the man was gone. With the terrorists alert to our intentions it would be certain death for me to have ordered anyone else to take my place in pursuing our man’s captives.

      I banged on the underside of the carrier. ‘Open the door. We have to get out of here.’

      Inserting a full magazine, I loosed off more shots in the direction of the terrorists’ retreat, but by now they had disappeared from sight and I had no idea if my shots were effective or not.

      ‘We can’t leave Dick out there with them!’ yelled our RAF recruit. ‘He’s still alive!’

      ‘We can’t do anything for him!’ I called back. ‘He’s out there because of the stupidity of the lieutenant and I’m not going to risk losing any more lives. Now let’s get out of here and keep your eyes open for any more trouble,’ I snarled.

      ‘Dick’s a friend of mine, you bastard!’

      ‘I don’t care who the fuck he is. I’m not risking any more men. Now shut up and watch for trouble!’

      By now we were under way and the site of the ambush was quickly left behind. I radioed the second carrier.

      ‘How are the VIPs?’

      ‘Jabbering away in their own lingo but not hurt beyond a few bumps and bruises. Judging by the smell, I think one of them might have shit himself.’

      ‘Totally understandable.’

      ‘Yeah. I came close to doing it myself. I’ve contacted HQ and they got straight onto the US military. A couple of squads of Rangers are on their way to sort out those arseholes back there and they’ll try to see what they can do for our man.’

      I thought to myself, Thank God there’s at least one other person around here who has some idea what to do.

      We were all shaken to the core and there was silence throughout the convoy as we travelled the last few kilometres to Basra.

      A pair of helicopters with a gunship escort passed low over us heading toward the ambush site.

      ‘I hope they’re in time to save Dick.’ said the young RAF recruit as he gave me a look of utter loathing.

      I very much doubt it, I thought grimly to myself.

      Once again the crew lapsed into silence and remained that way until we reached our destination.

      When we delivered them to the school’s front door the VIPs were effusive in their thanks and we were all glad to see the back of them for the time being; however, we knew that this was only the first part of our mission. We still had to get them back to Baghdad after their inspection or whatever it was that they were doing here.

      Our convoy made its way to the company’s Basra compound where we could rest up, resupply and await further orders.

      I insisted that the carriers be completely refuelled and re-armed before the men were allowed to stand down. They muttered darkly under their breaths and I caught the RAF recruit complaining to the others, ‘What about Dick? Haven’t we been through enough today? There’s plenty of time for this shit tomorrow.’

      I didn’t have the energy to argue with him or to explain in reasonable terms why it had to be done straight away, so I simply pulled rank on him and told him in no uncertain terms that if he didn’t feel like obeying orders then he could walk out the door. It wasn’t what I would normally have done, but I was exhausted too and well past caring about his delicate feelings.

      Finally we were finished and I headed off for a much needed shower followed by what I considered the most important part of any mission. I rang home to let Maria know that I was fine and to say hello to my baby son Jason.

      Over the phone I wasn’t as up-beat as my usual self and I know that Maria could tell that the mission had not gone well; however, we were both experienced enough at these things to know that it would be useless for her to ask for details. ‘I love you and miss you,’ she whispered, and I felt immeasurably better.

      ‘Not much longer, Love,’ I responded. ‘I’ll be home soon.’

      ‘Are you going to sign up for another contract?’

      I was silent for a time. ‘We’ll talk about that when I get home. There are a lot of things to consider and this