BlindFire

BlindFire

BLINDFIRE

Colin Wraight

iv

BlindFire

What  devils
  are  we  to  face  in  life  that  we  have  not  vanquished  to the  dungeons  of  the soul? What  evil  retribution  that  have  not  called to  us  from  the  darkest  places  of  our human mind?
Cry vengeance
, Seek death and kill
. Where is our fear
then?

iv

BlindFire

  CHAPTER   1

Aldershot
, September 23, 1988

   The lime green ford cortina
, stolen in Liverpool the day before,
had already cruised past Buller Barracks in
Aldershot
twice on that grey, damp and drizzly autumn afternoon. The soldiers guarding the gate were far too busy to notice
anything out of the ordinary.
They were gawping at a squad of fresh female recruits as they pounded the drill square in their brand new barrack dress uniforms and shiny black shoes.

   The driver spat his chewing gum through the half open window and onto the damp pavement. "There’s no fence! This is going to be easy."
  Patrick Riley smiled with nervous anticipation
. “Where do you want to go now Jack?"  He
asked
.

  Patrick wasn’t just scared he was terrified. W
eakness was no option for this appren
tice, any sign of fear and the job would be scrapped
. This was his
first time
on mainland
Britain
and he had to get it right
, he’d witnessed kneecappings before and didn’t fancy a similar fate
.
He glanced over at Jack Mckay, a simmering cauldron of anger who could explode at any second and often did. He seemed relaxed for now though as he sat there scraping dirt from under his finger nails with an old pen knife. Patrick guessed Jack to be about thirty years old, although it was hard to tell. He was small and very stocky with thick arms and a bear barrel for a chest. An unkempt mop of greasy jet black air fell lazily across his forehead, as if trying to hide the pale scar which started on his right eyebrow and extended beyond his hairline.

  "For crying out loud look at these boys, they’re not even armed.” Jack Mckay growled fiercely
and shook his head in disbelief
.

  “What? Soldiers without guns..?” Patrick asked and frowned. Back in
Belfast
that would have meant suicide for them. “Look, that one
’
s
only
got a pick elf..!” H
e laughed and suddenly felt a little less scared. “Why can’t we
do a drive by on the gate and then bugger off home? Just give me a shooter right now…!”

 
  Jack remembered his own eager youth and the joys of a simple petrol bomb.
“No the plan stays the same Patrick. You’ll need to turn around and go  back  to  the  crossroads, then  turn  right and  follow  the  signs  for a place called Ash Vale."  

“
I’ve never seen so many Brit Army camps this close together in one place.” Said Patrick, his eyes wide with excitement. “…And so unprotected It’s going to be like taking sweets from a baby..! So it is…” He paused to unwrap another stick of chewing gum and put it in his mouth. “
And what’s at Ash bloody Vale then?"
He asked and instantly
wis
hed he hadn’t.

Jack rolled is eyes in anger and answered through clenched teeth.  “
Do you ever stop talking?
All you ever do is ask stupid bloody questions Pat. I buried some equipment, if you must know." He paused and turned to face his apprentice, his eyes sparkled mischievously as a toothy grin revealed several gold fillings "On an Army range..!
How about that!
”

  "You’re joking?  Right!"
He said and allowed himself to relax as the threat of violence temporarily subsided.

  Jack laughed. “It’s the one place they’d never look, fer sure."

  "Shite! The lights are turning
to red..!  Come on." Patrick
cursed at the slow moving van in front.

  "Shush you idiot! Don’t do that." Jacks voice took on a vicious edge.  "You’ll attract attention.  He rolled his eyes skyward and shook his head. "I know this is your first time out so I'll put it down to fecking stupidity. But you’ve got to learn to blend in and live amongst them."  He smiled and waved at an oncoming car.  "You  tip  your  cap,  you  smile
politely
  and  you  say
hello sir,
  good day  sir
, kiss my arse sir!
.” 

  "And then?" Patrick asked as if he didn
’t already know the answer,
he  glanced  in  the  mirror  and  changed  down  gear.

  "And then... You
fecking moron..!
  You blow the buggers up!"

  After  half  a  mile  the  car  turned  right  and  then  left  over  a  gated rail  crossing.  By this time it was almost dark
and the street lights had begun to flicker and switch
on
casting an orange glow on everything below
.

  "Pull in just over there by that big old oak tree!"

  Patrick slowed down and indicated. As he did so Jack reached across and switched the flashing amber light off. "Idiot!" He growled. "You want to put up a big fecking sign and tell everyone we’re here?"

  "Sorry."
Patrick mumbled.

  The car came to a halt in front of some old gates. Jack immediately got out and ran the short distance to the fence on the
left hand side of the gate. This entrance
had obviousl
y not been used for decades. A
rusty
old
chain which had once held the gate locked lay discarded on the crumbling tarmac. A climbing plant had weaved its way in and out of the chequered steel mesh through the years making the gate al
most invisible to the naked eye
.

  Jack cursed aloud. The last time he was here he could just about squeeze through the gap between the gate and the fence, either he had put on some weight or the gate was growing.

  His head snapped back when he heard the car door slam. "Jesus H Christ!" He snarled. "Get back in that car and turn those fecking lights off! Jesus H Christ..!
Idiot..!
"

  Jack painfully made his way through some stinging nettles. Swearing  every time  a  part  of  his  body  felt  the  burning  touch  of  the tall  green weed.  Eventually, he found a week spot on the fence where the steel mesh
had all but rusted through. Easily kicking his way past, he soon found himself on the inside. Crouching low against a moldy old stump he slipped his pistol out and quietly pulled the working parts back allowing a bullet to slide forward in to the breach. These places always had minimal security but it was
always
best to play safe. He strained his eyes against the darkness watching for the slightest movement, and listened, but all he could hear was the strong beat of his own heart. Turning, he carefully made his way back to the gate. "Pat ...” He called and then again. "Pat  ...”

  "Yeah, what?"  Came a shaky reply.

  "Don’t go anywhere!"

  "What’s up Jack?  Don’t you trust me or something?”

  "Not for one fecking second.... Dick head..!” 

  Ten minutes passed before Patrick heard the sounds of someone noisily trying to scale the fence. "Is....  Is that you Jack?" He stammered, almost too afraid to speak in to the darkness.

  "Who the feck else....." Came the hoarse reply.  “...Ouch..! Could it be?"

  Suddenly there was an almighty crash followed by a thud and a cry of   pain. 

  Jack lay still for a moment while his mind raced around his body checking for damage.  As he tried to stand the car roared to l
ife and its headlights
illuminate the whole area.

   "Wait! Don’t you go anywhere?” He cried painfully trying to wipe the blood from his eyes. Eventually he slid on to the  passenger  seat  dragging  a  bulky  old  sack  with  him  and  slammed  the  door shut.

  "My God Just look at yer’ sen in the mirror.” Cried  Pat  horrified at  the  amount  of  blood  Jack  was  loosing  from several gashes on  his face  and  hands.  "Seriously mate, you need a doctor!"

  "I’m not
yer’ fecking mate!” He snapped and tossed the sack on to the back seat.
“And you can forget the Doctor.  It was only a wee bit of razor wire
… Now get this heap of a car moving!
"

***

  "Hello Zero, this is Alpha one zero, radio check over.” The Lance corporal
spoke
in to his Motorola handset.

  "Zero OK over."  A crackly voice replied.

  "Alpha one zero OK.  At moment on perimeter, everything’s quiet over."

  "Zero roger out."

  The  soldier  smiled  and  threw  the  radio  onto  the  nearest  bed.  "See.  I told you it would work."  He said
as he unbuttoned his combat jacket
and slid onto a chair.
"You can turn the TV up now..!
  Give us a cigarette."

  The  other  soldier, a  lot younger and  lower in  rank  did as he was told  and produced  a  packet  of  cigarettes  from  his  combat  jacket pocket. "I don’t know about this Smudge..!"  He complained and flicked a cigarette in to his mouth. "If the Guard Commander comes in and catches us, we’re dead meat."

  "What, that Sergeant Askew ..? He’s a total knob head!"

  "Yeah I know but ..!"

  "It's dark and it’s cold
out there..!
And I’m not freezing my bollo
x off for anyone! Now put that film on."

  The young Private
did as he was told and pressed
play on the
remote control.  "I suppose it’
s better
than
wandering around
like dickheads
in the dark!"

***

  Jack looked at his watch again and stretched. Having had
no sleep for the past eighteen
hours, he was tired.
The drive from
Belfast
had
taken its toll on energy reserves. He rubbed his eyes and looked closer at his digital
watch
.  "Patrick." He shouted.  "Patrick, wake up it’s time."

   He continued to snore.

  "Wake up."  Demanded Jack and slapped Pat viciously on the back of his head. “
Come on get
this car moving...? Now!”

  Pat  jumped  violently  from  his  dreams,  banging  his  head  on  the window.  "Jesus Christ. What did you do that for?  I was dreaming about this really fit blonde!” He whined and rubbed his head.

  Jack was
desperately struggling
to
keep a
grip his ferocious temper. "The only blonde you ever had was that flea bitten old
Labrador
yer Ma’ made you take for a shite every night! Now let’s go." He growled.

  It took
three attempts before the car
engine ignited.  "Which way are we going then?" Pat
rick
a
sked selecting first gear. “If you told me a bit more maybe I wouldn’t have to keep asking for directions.”

  Jack
pulled a small notebook from the
pocket
of his Barbour jacket and started flicking through the pages
. “If you told me a bit more...!” Jack whined imitating his accomplice
“
…If I told you a bit more you’d only be more confused than you already are..!
Now shut the feck up and drive, go out of here and turn right. When you get to the roundabout....." He turned the pages. "... You go up... Where the feck is it?"  He said angrily and turned the page once again. "Ah here....  We go to the top of Gun hill!"

  Patrick laughed. "And  by  feck  is  there  going  to  be  a  bang  up there  tonight."

  Jack had to smile, he cou
ldn’t help it. T
he moron was showing signs of a hidden sense of
humor at last
.

***

  The two men crouched by a bush.  Somewhere  in  the  distance  they could  hear  the  shrieks  and  shouts  as  a  couple  argued,  and  the rhythmical   beats  of  a  disco  making  its  way  to  their  ears.
Jack grimaced at the sound of the music; he guessed it was coming from a public house called ‘The Royal Exchange’. Situated at the bottom of Gun hill, was their first choice target but there was just too many bouncers on the doors. Not only that but the street had been full of men from the
Para
chute Regiment depot up the road. You can spot them a mile off in their jeans, burgundy t-shirts and desert boots. Jack didn’t mind taking the odd risk but he wasn’t one of those idiot suicide bombers that he’d been hearing about in the
Middle East
.