Cyberstrike by James Barrington (best memoirs of all time TXT) 📕

plane was clouded in smoke as each salvo of shells was fired by the Avenger rotary cannon.

Abruptly, the firing stopped and the aircraft banked hard to the left, turned away from the target and pulled up into a steep climb, releasing a cluster of flares as a countermeasure against possible heat-seeking missiles, though no intelligence reports had suggested the ISI fighters in the safe house had access to Stingers or similar weapons. But it was SOP – Standard Operating Procedure – to always assume that your enemy was better armed and equipped and more competent and dedicated than you believed or expected. That way you didn’t get caught out.

Even before the A-10 Thunderbolt, affectionately known to the American troops as the Warthog, had vanished from sight, Montana was checking the target. The safe house was still standing, though obviously battered, and the second Maverick had blown a hole straight through the side wall.

‘Target as briefed,’ he said to the signaller. ‘Immediate execute.’

The soldier relayed the command and coalition soldiers stood up from their concealed positions and began to advance on the property, using overwatch or fire-and-cover tactics, one group dispersing and moving swiftly from one position to another while their comrades stayed in place to provide covering fire if required.

But there was no movement from inside the safe house. No resistance and no sign of any of the ISI fighters they had been told to expect. Or anyone else.

And then, suddenly, there was.

As the first wave of coalition soldiers reached around a hundred yards from the building they heard the unmistakable clatter of an AK-47 firing on full auto, which was perhaps slightly better news than the same weapon firing single shots. The Kalashnikov is the weapon of choice for insurgents and terrorists around the world because it is so rugged and reliable, but it’s not the most accurate assault rifle, and especially not when firing on full auto, as the barrel lifts uncontrollably.

The low stone walls and rocky outcrops around the advancing soldiers sparked and rang from the impacts of the 7.62mm bullets, but most of the rounds went high, completely missing their targets. The soldiers dived into cover and returned fire with their Colt M4A1 carbines, but the ISI fighter was hidden behind a broken section of wall and almost invisible from ground level.

But then the unseen defender switched his weapon to semi-automatic mode, pinning down the advancing soldiers. He could see them, but he himself remained almost invisible, only the muzzle of his Kalashnikov showing. All the coalition soldiers could do was concentrate their fire on the section of wall behind which he was standing, their bullets ricocheting off the old stones.

‘Take him out,’ Montana ordered.

The terse reply came almost immediately.

‘Already on it.’

The combined force didn’t include a dedicated sniper because they were expecting to carry out what amounted to a house clearance rather than engaging the enemy at long range, but two of the American soldiers had been detailed to take up static positions to provide covering fire. They had established themselves on slightly higher ground, one to the south of the building and the other over to the east, choosing locations that offered the best possible views of the target property.

One of them had no shot, because from his location the ISI fighter was shielded and invisible behind the boundary wall, but the other man could see him – just. To be exact, he could see the end of the muzzle of the AK-47 projecting towards the advancing troops, and he could both see and hear the weapon firing, the barrel moving as the unseen man altered his aim. Every time the ISI fighter fired a round, the recoil forced his upper body backwards and just into view from behind a section of the wall, but never far enough or long enough for the American to take a shot.

Then the Kalashnikov fell silent as the magazine was exhausted, and that was the best chance the coalition marksman had.

The ISI fighter took a half step backwards as he dropped the magazine out of his AK-47 and grabbed another one from a pouch strapped around his chest. As he did so, he also stepped back into the sights of the American’s Colt carbine.

Immediately the soldier squeezed the trigger. And then fired a second time. The first round missed the ISI fighter by a few inches, ricocheting off the stone wall beside him, but the second took him on the left-hand side of his chest and he dropped sideways and out of sight.

From his location Montana saw a bearded figure stumble into view and then collapse, a Kalashnikov falling from his hands. But he knew that wouldn’t be the end of the resistance.

As if on cue, about a dozen male figures, all with a similar appearance – bearded and wearing predominantly white and grey dishdashas, abas and keffiyehs – swarmed out of the building. Each man was carrying one of the ubiquitous Kalashnikov AK-47 assault rifles and each had a magazine pouch strapped around his upper body.

Despite the damage to the house and the casualties that would inevitably have been caused by the Warthog’s strike, the terrorists still had teeth.

A heavy barrage of shots rang out, the firing coming from both sides. The coalition troops were more exposed but they were all experienced in this kind of combat and were taking full advantage of what cover they could find. And they weren’t wasting their ammunition, only firing when they could acquire definite targets.

The ISI fighters, in contrast, were much less disciplined, many firing long bursts that sent bullets screaming into the air well above their targets, but they were also better protected by the stone wall surrounding the house and, probably, had far more ammunition at their disposal than the coalition soldiers.

The operation briefing had included all possible contingencies – or at least all those that Montana had been able to think of – and this kind of stand-off had been entirely predictable. No new orders were necessary.

Almost