To Garfield’s mind this frosty attitude was entirely due to the media’s love affair with the SAS. The Cadre were all instructors, in their peacetime role they taught the members of 3 Commando Brigade how to fight and survive in arctic conditions, how to climb, and how to operate far above the snow line where the air is thin. The Cadre did not wear any insignia or embellishments on their working or ceremonial dress, and even the Royal Marines own Special Forces, the little known Special Boat Service who received much of their training from the Cadre only wore a quaint little ‘Swimmer Canoeist’ badge, the letters SC and laurel leaves in gold on the right arm of their dress uniforms to set them apart. The American had seen nothing to make him doubt the Mountain Troop soldiers abilities, they were all very professional and good climbers, but the Cadre were very, very good. The levels of fitness were impressive in terms of stamina. He could beat the M&AWC’s ‘granddad’, the forty-something Glaswegian, Sergeant McCormack, by several minutes on a five mile dash but he struggled to stay up with the man when they each carried their own weight in kit on route marches.
The parting of the ways would occur once the force reached an east/west running ridge above them, at that point Mountain Troop would go east seven miles to place remote laser designators, targeted on the vehicle assembly buildings, launch towers and satellite communications dishes of the space centre.
The Cadre and Garfield’s men would turn west for the ICBM field where their designators would be sighted on the hardened silos. If all went to plan the troops would RV back at this spot before beginning the long hike to a disused mining strip, for a night extraction by the C-130 Hercules of 47 Squadron, Royal Air Force.
The extraction was totally dependent on the success of the F117As and B1-B Lancers accompanying the B2 bombers. Their job was to clear away enemy air defence radar from the target, and all the way back to the borders of India and Nepal.
Richard placed another camm into the crack running through the overhang, reaching across and upwards to position it six inches from the overhangs lip and attached his harness to it with a pair of linked quickdraw’s. When he released the quickdraw to the previous camm though, there was a screech like fingernails being drawn down a slate blackboard, as the camm near the lip shifted several inches downwards and outwards. Corporal Alladay was belayed on to a large boulder at the last pitch and immediately took up the slack, feeding rope back around his body and bracing, locking his arms in toward his torso.
The tight rope stopped the pendulum movement of the major’s body, and Richard held his breath, staring at the camm which had half emerged from the crack but had now taken a firm hold against a protruding nub. As satisfied as he could be that the camm was now secure he singled up on the quickdraw's securing him to the camm before reaching up beyond the lip of the overhang, his fingers feeling for a hold. Below him Corporal Alladay let out some rope, again allowing the major some freedom of movement.
Richard first found a finger hold, and then discarded it for a fracture coming off the crack, which afforded a better grip. To the left of the crack an angle of rock would afford him some purchase for his left foot. With his right hand in the fracture Richard wedged the fingers of his left into the crack and heaved, bringing up his left foot and planting the sole of the boot firmly before transferring his right hand to the crack. Bracing himself there he let go with his left hand and unscrewed himself from the remaining quickdraw, allowing it to fall way to hang from the stem. He was now out of sight of Alladay and tugged on the rope, signalling for more slack before working his body higher, hand over hand up the crack until he was able to jam the toe of his right boot into the fracture hold. With feet splayed and the fingers of one hand wedged into the crack and the other gripping the underside of an inverse lip.
Richard craned his neck to look for the next hold. Having got himself to this spot Richard now found that the next possible hand hold was a good seven or eight inches beyond his grasp, but after that the face promised easier going. It’s not a problem, he thought, I’ll use a camm in the crack to pull myself up. Reaching around to the back of his harness though he found that he had none left that would fit. His largest monolith was too narrow and he had used his last piton below the overhang, all he had left were ice screws, the hollow, rifled tubes for affixing runners once they reached the snowline. It was time to consider alternatives, and he unclipped his ice axe from his harness.
Through the eye on the helve’s butt end he threaded a length of line, tying it off on his harness with six feet of line connecting the two. As if about to try and lever off the inverse lip of rock Richard jabbed the picks business end upwards into the space previously occupied by his fingers. Without weight being applied to the picks helve the ice pick would simply fall away, so holding the pick in place with his left hand he brought up his left foot onto the moulded handgrip before shifting his weight to rest upon it. It was a variation on the Stein Pull and gave the commando a somewhat perilous perch on which he now placed his other foot also, and twisted his body at the waist to face the rock with the palms of his hands flat against the rock face. There wasn’t any way he could warn Alladay about what he was about to attempt, so if he screwed it up he would fall until the runner on the last camm caught him, and his momentum would then swing him into the rock face below the overhang with bone breaking force. Bending at the knees Richard steadied him before leaping, his arms outstretched and fingers already half hooked. As soon as his weight left the ice pick it came loose, tumbling way to dangle from the line tied to his harness. The fingers of both hands found the same lip of rock, but it was only deep enough for the tips. With his hands side by side Richard gritted his teeth and pulled, doing a chin-up until his eyes came level with his fingertips. He groaned with the effort and then let go his left hand, shooting it up into a narrow horizontal fracture. Gritting his teeth and with his biceps trembling the Royal Marine worked himself up hand by hand until eventually he could find purchase for his feet.
Garfield heard the beat of rotor blades first, echoing off the canyon walls in a way that made it impossible to judge the direction of the source of the sound. He had two men take up position with Stingers, finding spots where they could engage in either direction along the wide canyon, and where they would avoid causing friendly injuries with the weapons back-blast.
The FIM-96A had a maximum range of eight kilometres and a minimum range of one, the distance the missile would travel before it had armed itself. That minimum range could be a real hamper in the confined depths of the mountain canyon if they did have to engage, but that would be a very last resort, as it would announce their presence here.
Over four hundred feet up, Major Dewar felt the vibrations through the rock before he actually heard the sound of a helicopter, and breathed a savage
“Oh shit!” The only cover around was that of the chimney above him.
Up and down the rock face the troops pulled themselves into the cover of shadows and undulations in the rock before going very still, their camouflage clothing assisting in the deception. The men anchored to belay points tied off the ropes, before releasing themselves from their restraints and getting themselves concealed
Corporal Alladay however was stuck out on a protruding shelf in plain view until Major Dewar could signal he was safe to untie himself from his anchor point. Richard hauled his axe back up and clipped it to his harness before climbing as fast as he safely could toward the crack where it suddenly yawned to become a chimney.