See All Evil (eBook)

PROLOGUE

Captain Alex McCloud looked up when he heard the all-too familiar sound of sniper-fire. It seemed uncomfortably close to the base camp at Kandahar. “Jack! Quick! Come with me!” The two men ran towards the camp entrance and soon saw the crumpled bodies of two Afghan soldiers who had been guarding the camp’s main entrance gates. A third soldier was calling out for assistance and trying to revive the two unfortunate men who were, obviously, beyond any earthly assistance.

Alex and Jack were soon by the man’s side. The young captain was familiar with all three Afghans who had been willing to assist American and British forces in an attempt to rid the country of the Taliban insurgents. To make it worse, all three men were related.

“Did you see the attackers?”

“Yes, Sir.” He looked devastated at the loss of his cousins. “There were four Taliban.” He turned and pointed. Alex looked and saw a vehicle racing away from the camp. Four figures were in the battered vehicle as they made their escape.

Alex wasted no time and ran with Jack towards a lightarmoured vehicle. “Watkins! Adamson! Come with us, quickly!”

Within seconds, the four were in their vehicle and racing in pursuit of the killers.

Alex had been assigned to take charge of flushing out groups of Taliban fighters entrenched near to the villages where they could intimidate and keep pressure on frightened residents. Now he had a job to do. “Just get this right!”, he said to himself.

While Jack drove the vehicle, his foot pressed hard on the accelerator, alex was on his radio, instructing a helicopter pilot to take off and assist in this dangerous task.

After a few minutes driving at speed, on poorly-maintained roads, through village streets, the car entered open countryside with just the occasional small group of dwellings. The car with the Taliban fighters came to a halt near to a mainly open area. They jumped out of their vehicle and ran away in the direction of a simple building. It was one of several similar buildings in this area.

Jack pulled up, without getting too close to the other vehicle, in case it had been booby-trapped. All four ran after the escaping insurgents.

The first three Taliban fighters were easy to dispatch as they, seemingly, made easy targets. When another fighter retreated into the small, ordinary-looking building, Alex’s unit followed, unaware that this was a deadly trap.

As the man ran inside, he quickly hid behind a stack of boxes, waiting for the British soldiers to enter. When he was satisfied that several soldiers were inside the building, he shouted “Praise be to Allah!” and detonated a huge bomb, ensuring not only his own death, but that of several of the infidel fighters.

In the explosion that followed, Alex’s Sergeant and best friend, Jack Prentice, was literally torn to pieces, while Corporal Doug Adamson was decapitated and a third soldier, Private Bill Watkins lost both legs.

Alex felt the full force of the blast, his clothes immediately catching fire, while he received a great deal of shrapnel wounds to his face and one side of his body.

Luckily for him, the force of the explosion hurled him away from the structure and out of further danger from the now, fiercely-burning building. a second huge explosion ripped through the air, making it impossible to retrieve what was left of the bodies of his three unfortunate comrades.

Alex was uncertain what happened next, but, somehow, he stumbled away from the blazing inferno that had trapped them and, after collapsing, was quickly dragged away by his fellow soldiers who had disembarked from the helicopter and had come to his aid. While enemy snipers were firing at Alex, he was quickly rolled on the ground to extinguish the flames from his burning clothes. Alex was not only dazed, but also completely blinded from the frags which had, painfully, torn into his face, making it impossible for him to help himself. Blood streamed down his shattered face, giving the young soldier a ghoulish appearance, somewhat reminiscent of a horror movie.

As the men in his troop realised Alex’s difficulties, they literally picked him up and carried him to the helicopter which, thankfully, had returned for them. It was pretty undignified, yet life-saving, as they bundled their inert Captain inside. They all scrambled in quickly after him, allowing the heavy machine to lift off, while still being targeted by small-arms fire.

Alex remained unconscious for about three hours, coming round in the military hospital at Camp Bastion.

He would always remember that day vividly. The antiseptic smell, the air of quiet efficiency, but most of all, the strange feeling of isolation. Not just the fact that he was lying in a hospital bed, but, for all he knew, the ongoing battles could be a million miles away, or even ended, though he knew this was impossible.

He turned slightly in his bed in a vain attempt to get a little more comfortable and winced from the sharp pain.

Out of the darkness, a familiar voice gave him a start. “Hello, Alex. You’re back with us, then?”

Alex recognised the deep, now calming tones of Derek, his commanding officer.

He wasted no time and asked the all-important question, “What happened to my men?”

There was an uncomfortable, meaningful pause before the reply came. “A secondary explosion prevented us from getting the others out. Prentice, Adamson and Watkins didn’t make it, I’m sorry to say.”

Alex had dreaded the bad news, but had feared the worst. “Oh, shit! What a mess! I should have guessed that it was a trap.”

Major Derek Connolly could not agree with the young officer. “Don’t blame yourself, Alex. If we did not react in case everything was a trap, we would get nowhere. The important thing, now, Alex is to get you better and out of that bed.”

Dreading the answers that may be given, he asked the next-important question. “What happened to me? Why can’t I see anything?”

Again, another short, yet meaningful pause. “You received about twenty per cent burns, mainly to the left side of your body. The frags caused extensive scarring, particularly to your face and upper body.”

“What about my eyes?”

“I’m sorry, Alex. The front portion of both eyes was damaged and the probability is that loss of sight to both eyes could be permanent.”

Alex felt as though he had been hit by an express train, metaphorically speaking. Burnt skin and frag wounds could heal, but the news that he would never see again, hit Alex badly. He took a deep, involuntary breath in before asking, “Are you certain about my eyes?” He feared that he knew what the answer would be, even before Derek replied.

His commanding officer sounded apologetic. “The front portion of both eyes was damaged so severely that corneal implants could not even be considered. I am terribly sorry, Alex, but that is the situation as explained to me by the medics.”

Right then, Alex wished that he had died in the battle, along with his men. He could not understand why his own life had been spared, while his future had been so finally and brutally destroyed. “There’s no future in the army for a blind soldier”, he thought, somewhat bitterly. He could not imagine life without sight, unable to see the magic in a woman’s smile or the wonderment in a child’s innocent face. Even to see the creases and fine lines in his own face as he aged, would be denied to him. His silence said everything.

Alex’s feelings of hostility and despair were not aimed at Major Connolly. He knew that it was his superior’s job to be honest, sometimes to the point of brutality, with the men in his command. One of the disadvantages of climbing up the ranks was the inevitable task of breaking bad news when a death or serious injury occurred.

“Listen, Alex. Tomorrow you will be flown back to the U.K. where you will receive the very best medical treatment. If there is any way that your sight can be restored, then it will be done. I’m just telling you the situation as it is at this moment. Okay?”

“Sorry, I didn’t mean…”

“It’s alright, Alex. I do understand your frustration. We now have to put our trust in the specialists back home.”

The flight back to England was a very sobering experience. Alex was one of three who were on stretchers along with one female and five male soldiers whose injuries were less severe, allowing them to sit in normal seats.

It was heart-wrenching to realise that, as well as the injured, there were two soldiers in coffins. Soldiers whose lives had been cut far too short. “What a fucking mess!” he thought. For the men in his own unit who had died in the huge explosion, their bodies would remain in that Godforsaken country, the dignity of being buried on British soil being denied to them. All that was left was the memories of these three brave individuals.

Within a couple of hours after landing, Alex and the other seriously injured soldiers were flown, by helicopter, to Queen Elisabeth Hospital at Edgbaston in Birmingham.

This famous hospital was only opened the previous year and had a world-renowned reputation for the care and rehabilitation of military personnel injured in conflict zones.

The care Alex received was superb. He was fortunate to have burns which were not quite deep enough to need skin grafts. There were many...