Free First Strike by Craig Simpson Page A

the dashboard. Behind the panel wires coiled under the bus to a bomb fixed on the fuel tank. With his other hand he yanked the steering wheel and the bus veered sharply right. The bus mounted the pavement.
    Tariq had been promised Paradise. No longer would he a humble bus driver. He was to be fedayeen — a martyr. His was the first strike.
    Mushi screamed as the bus ploughed into the front of the coffee shop. Tariq pressed the switch.
    A tall plume of black smoke rose over the city.

CHAPTER TWO
Spring offensive
Camp Delta
    Connor had been eating some spicy chicken wings when the text came through. It had ordered him to report to the Ops Room immediately.
    Grim faces greeted Connor and his men when they got there five minutes later. General Patterson, head of CENTCOM — Central Command — wasted no time in introducing them to Colonel Rogers, Chief of Combined Black Ops, and his team of intelligence officers.
    “You’ve seen the news feeds,” Rogers began.
    Connor nodded. “Yes, the bus bomb in Kabul.”
    “You can imagine what the media back home are saying. The Taliban have begun their spring offensive early this year and caught us on the hop. It’s just the beginning, too. We have good reason to believe they’re planning a major campaign of attacks, abductions, assassinations and suicide bombings. Gentlemen, a decision’s been made at the highest level. Innocent lives are at stake. We’re going on the offensive.”
    Connor fidgeted uneasily in his chair as Colonel Rogers hooked up his laptop, projecting the files onto a large screen. The first was a detailed map. “OK, this is what we know,” Rogers continued. “Intel is sparse. Bad weather has restricted our use of drones, and the Taliban have been wise enough to limit their phone use and radio transmissions. However, interrogations of recently captured insurgents near to Doshi and Jabal Saraj have yielded a few pieces of the jigsaw. We believe armed insurgents are on the move and gathering in small groups in the Hindu Kush mountains. The leaders are going to meet with this man…” Rogers paused while he switched files. “Mullah Khan. This guy’s as bad as they come. He’s the one pulling the strings. Deal with him and the insurgents will be leaderless and in disarray.”
    Connor leaned forward and studied the photo of a tall, bearded man. He had scarring down the left side of his face. “Do we know where and when the meet will take place, sir?”
    “No. If we did there’d be no need for me to talk to you, major. Instead, I’d be arranging an air strike.” Rogers returned to the map of the Hindu Kush mountains and pointed vaguely. “Most likely, they’ll get together somewhere around here. There are lots of old silver mines. Perfect for hiding out.”
    “So, just let me get this straight, sir,” Connor interrupted. “You want Delta Force to locate Mullah Khan and find out when and where the meeting will take place, so you can then arrange a targeted air strike.”
    Colonel Rogers nodded. “Got it in one, major. Radio us the co-ordinates and let our F-16s do the rest. Naturally, if the opportunity arises, feel free to take out Khan yourselves.”
    It sounded so simple, but Connor knew nothing could be further from the truth. “I foresee one or two problems, sir.”

    “Thought you might, major. Fire away.”
    “Firstly, how do we get even close to them? Blocked by snow, most of the mountain roads are still impassable by vehicle, and it would take days on foot. Also, the only ground entry point is via the Panjshir valley. And that means going through the gorge at Dalan Sang. We’d be spotted and picked off like sitting ducks, just like the Russians were back in the 1980s. Alternatively, if we helicopter in they’re bound to hear us coming, especially as the region is supposed to be crawling with Taliban.”
    “There is a way, major.”
    Danny groaned. “I think Colonel Rogers has a HALO jump in mind, sir. It’s the only way