Free DARKNET CORPORATION by Ken Methven Page B

waited, discussing arms and
equipment they might need. The NZ SAS men would use night visions and
Kalashnikovs they could carry into the town without looking out of place. They
checked the batteries on the radios and talked through tactics, fall back
positions and contingency plans for every event they could anticipate. As
professionals, these topics and the process of detailed planning of an
operation were standard practice, and life preserving.

Chapter Seven
    They set out, timed to get into position around sunset, while hopefully
most people were conducting Maghrib prayers. They
walked a hundred yards apart, all wearing the same turban-covered radio
arrangement; communicating only when necessary. Being seen talking to themselves would attract the wrong kind of attention.
    Mickey found the niche in the wall in the building opposite the compound
that Ledge had described to him and was thankful that Ledge had an eye for a
good ‘ posi ’. Shrubbery around it gave cover, although
he would be hard pressed to come up with an excuse for being there. The niche
offered an ideal view of half the target compound opposite; down the side wall
and the front double gates. If there were any comings or going in or out of the
compound he would see it.
    “Mike, in position. Over,” he called. They had decided
they would use alphabetic initials as call signs.
    It took Ledge and Bill longer to walk up the hill and around the back of
the compound. When they arrived they checked in, “Lima and Bravo, in position,
Over.”
    “Mike, this is Bravo, any action? Over”
    “Nothing moving. Sentry must be on the other side. Out,” he called
back.
    Bill could see the whole of the top of the wall from this angle and
appreciated the plan they had worked out. Now that he had eyes on the target
compound and had walked in through the town without incident he was starting to
be slightly less terrified about what they were doing.
    He waited to see the sentry circle around the wall one more time and as
the Sun slipped down a muezzin cried out the azan, calling for
prayers. “Now is the time to move,” he thought.
    Crouching down and holding on to his equipment, Bill dodged between the line of bushes until reaching the wall of the compound.
Rubbing his hands on the walls he wiped them onto his shoulders took off the
turban and tried to camouflage the top of it as best he could with whatever
dust he could wipe off the walls. If the sentry looked over the wall he wanted
to look as indistinct as he could. He did not think it was very effective, but
he was prepared to use whatever he could to improve his chances of remaining
undetected.
    He looked along and picked a spot to drill his first hole. He fitted the
drill rod into the brace, stepped back from the wall to get the drill horizontal
and started turning. Sure enough, the drill was very efficient and cut into the
mudbrick wall in no time.
    Bill stopped as soon as he felt the pressure give on the drill, knowing
it would have breached the wall on the inside. He held his breath and waited
for any commotion to start if it had been spotted or worse, poked into someone.
As the moments passed and he breathed again, he marked the drill rod with his
thumbnail to show the depth required to breach the wall and drew it out slowly.
He picked up the endoscopic coil, using the control unit to unwind it so that
it was reasonably straight and threaded it carefully into the hole.
    Watching the display now he pushed until he could see light then paused
to take in whatever view it afforded.
    He was looking at the courtyard; a more perfect realisation of Dante’s
Inferno he could not imagine. Straight in front of him were three large
soot-blackened vats sitting in fires. Men with rags tied across their faces to
cover their mouth and nose were either stirring them with what looked like
rowboat paddles, or were stoking the fires or rushing back and forth carrying
plastic containers or sacks.
    Bill tweaked the paddles on the