Contents
Cover
About the Book
Title Page
Chapter 10
Chapter 11
Chapter 12
Coming Soon
Army Facts and Information
Where is Afghanistan?
Maps of Afghanistan and Helmand Province
Army Ranks
Glossary of Army Terms
Acknowledgements
About the Author
Also by Andy McNab
Copyright
The New Recruit
Dropzone
Dropzone: Terminal Velocity
Boy Soldier
Payback
Avenger
Meltdown
Bravo Two Zero
Immediate Action
Seven Troop
Spoken from the Front
Aggressor
Battle Lines (with Kym Jordan)
Brute Force
Crisis Four
Crossfire
Dark Winter
Dead Centre
Deep Black
Exit Wound
Firewall
Last Light
Liberation Day
Recoil
Red Notice
Remote Control
Silencer
War Torn (with Kym Jordan)
Zero Hour
THE NEW PATROL: EPISODE 3
AN RHCP DIGITAL EBOOK 978 1 448 19357 8
Published in Great Britain by RHCP Digital,
an imprint of Random House Children’s Publishers UK
A Random House Group Company
This ebook edition published 2013
Copyright © Andy McNab, 2013
Front cover artwork and design © Stephen Mulcahey, 2013
Cover photography © Jonathan Ring, 2013
Map artwork © Julian Mosedale, 2012
First Published in Great Britain by RHCP Digital, 2013
The right of Andy McNab to be identified as the author of this work has been asserted in accordance with the Copyright, Designs and Patents Act 1988.
This ebook is copyright material and must not be copied, reproduced, transferred, distributed, leased, licensed or publicly performed or used in any way except as specifically permitted in writing by the publishers, as allowed under the terms and conditions under which it was purchased or as strictly permitted by applicable copyright law. Any unauthorized distribution or use of this text may be a direct infringement of the author’s and publisher’s rights and those responsible may be liable in law accordingly.
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A CIP catalogue record for this book is available from the British Library.
Liam looked up, but before he could speak another voice came over the radio: it was Steers.
‘Eastwood, can you make PB One with Saunders?’
‘Sir!’
No hesitation. Not a hint of it. Liam knew right then that Clint was exactly the kind of soldier he wanted alongside him. He was professional, knew exactly what he was doing, and got the job done, period.
‘On my order, everyone will provide covering fire. Cowell?’
Cowell came back with, ‘Sir?’
‘Once Eastwood is at PB One, we extract the rest of the team. Covering fire will be provided from the compound.’
Cowell acknowledged the order. Liam didn’t want to think about Saunders. Couldn’t. He still had to fight his own way back to the PB and stay alive.
On Steers’s order, the world erupted again with a hail of metal. Liam saw Clint jump up, Martin across his shoulders in a fireman’s carry. He was racing hard, sprinting to Patrol Base 1. Hell, he was quick . . .
‘The rest of you – MOVE!’ Steers’s voice was as commanding over the PRR as it was in real life.
Liam was up and he was off, drawing on energy reserves only a squaddie would know about.
The compound was alive with the excitement of the firefight. Liam raced through the doors and looked around for Clint. Soldiers were everywhere.
‘Scott! Up there! Now!’
It was Miller, pointing to the walls. Liam pushed aside his worry for Martin and headed off.
Up top, he had a better view of the compound. It was much bigger than the compounds he’d stayed in before. Not only that, it housed considerably more men. During his last tour, it had been just one multiple at a patrol base. Here, though, a number of multiples were stationed together, as the British forces had reduced the number of patrol bases considerably.
Liam ignored his observations and got down to laying down some fire. He changed another magazine, then zipped the rounds into where the few remaining Taliban were hiding. He was fully focused. All that mattered was being a soldier, standing side by side with his mates, and taking the fight back good and hard against those who’d brought it to their door.
‘Stop!’
It was the lieutenant’s voice and on his command everyone in the compound eased off their triggers.
An eerie silence cascaded into the space where the rattle and clatter of gunfire had lived. It was so acutely different that for a second Liam, ears ringing from the rounds, wondered if he could actually hear the silence.
Movement behind him. The lieutenant was calling soldiers over, putting a group together to go check on the damage. They’d be covered by everyone else in the compound. It had to be done now, and quickly. If there was the chance of a prisoner, this was the best time to go hunting. It was also a good idea to make sure no one went running back to the Taliban with further news. Or to bring back immediate reinforcements.
Weapon made safe, sweat pouring from him now, and the exertion of the firefight quickly ripping itself through his every fibre, Liam went and found Clint, who was crouched on the ground and leaning against a wall. He was covered in dust, his clothing patched with sweat, but darker stains lay there too: blood.
‘What’s happened? Where is he? Where’s Mascot?’
‘We think he got cut off from the rest of us when we bugged out of the Chinook,’ said Clint, clearly using all the energy he had left to keep his voice steady and his emotions in check. ‘Ran the wrong way or something. We don’t know. His body—’