Free War Torn by Andy McNab, Kym Jordan Page B

ended up in London. My mother never did learn much English. So I’ve been translating for her for most of my life.’

‘Your family’s Pashtun?’

‘Yes. We lived in Kandahar province.’

‘Do you remember it?’

‘Of course.’

‘So does this feel at all like home?’

She smiled sadly and shook her head.

‘An FOB doesn’t feel like home. Even after a month.’

‘How does your family feel about . . .?’

‘Me doing this job?’ She looked even sadder and studied the table in front of her. She held an empty water glass in her long, slim fingers. She turned it around and around.

‘I don’t have any contact with them,’ she said. ‘I married a man who wasn’t Pashtu, wasn’t even a Moslem. So they don’t consider me a member of the family any more.’

Weeks felt a rush of emotion. She was married. But his disappointment didn’t overcome his compassion. To be exiled from any family must be hard, and the Pashtuns were a proud and close-knit people.

Jean was watching him closely. ‘It’s worse than that. She’s ended up with no husband
and
no family.’

‘Wouldn’t your family take you back when . . . when . . .?’

‘When I divorced?’ Asma shook her head. ‘When you get tounderstand the Afghan people a little better, you’ll know there can only be one answer to that question.’

He looked down awkwardly at his meal.

‘Eat up!’ Jean said cheerfully. ‘I hear you’ve had one helluva day. You went out on a routine patrol and ended up with five Afghan bodies on your hands.’

‘We had a very . . . interesting . . . patrol,’ he said carefully.

‘You might need to go over the RoE with your men. From what I’ve heard, there are some questions to be answered.’

‘We’ve discussed the matter fully and I’m satisfied that the Rules of Engagement were observed.’ He’d been aware of a certain amount of hesitation on Dave’s part in the debriefing, but had decided not to pursue it.

‘I think Major Willingham will want to satisfy himself too,’ Jean said. Her smile was both bright and determined.

Weeks felt his jaw muscles clench. He’d watched these two contravene every rule in the tactical questioning book. And now they were suggesting his men had ignored the RoE. He felt his face redden further. He cursed this stupid habit. He cursed his entire blood supply.

‘Obviously, the police don’t get involved unless the OC is worried. But this is a small base and I’ve offered the major my help if he wants to look into it,’ said Jean.

Weeks tried to suppress his anger. He was aware that she was still watching him intently. He was also aware of the steady and unnerving gaze of the beautiful Asma.

‘My men only narrowly avoided being blown up by a double landmine. A goat took the blast instead. They were confirming that there had been no civilian casualties when they encountered the enemy. They faced the stark choice of firing or being fired upon.’

Jean raised an eyebrow. ‘Are you sure you’ve been told all the details?’

Weeks thought about that. Well, no, of course he couldn’t be sure that he’d heard the whole story. But he wasn’t going to admit that. ‘Their actions were entirely justifiable.’ He hoped he was right.

Dave had taken Sol a meal and been told that his best corporal had a twisted ankle and had to keep the weight off it for at least a week, maybe two.

‘Isn’t there anything you can do?’ he asked the departing medic.

The man turned and shrugged. ‘Shoot him?’

‘Good idea.’

‘Sorry,’ Sol said miserably. ‘I’m really sorry.’

‘How the hell did it happen?’ Dave asked. ‘If it had been Finny or anyone else I’d know they were pissing about. But you . . .’

‘I was on top. I was firing. Then I shifted my weight around and . . . well I stumbled and the next thing I knew I was falling.’

The Fijian was built like a brick shithouse. He’d fallen on Dave during an impromptu football game and Dave still had the