The four men moved quickly, forming a circle around the motorcycle and body, each covering a compass point, steadying their breathing, listening, watching. Wilf slowly raised his body until on one knee, getting the image intensifier from its sack. The green glow lit up his eyes as he completed a full 360-degree sweep of the area. Nothing.
After a further ten minutes, they relaxed, or as much as was sensible. Wilf tapped Badger and Tag on the shoulder. They knew what had to be done: the soldier needed to disappear. While they carried the body away, Wilf and Hacker pushed the heavy dispatch bike into a dip about fifty metres off the track and, lying it on its side, pulled what dead branches they could find, supplemented by mulch, and covered it as best they could.
Regrouping, they moved off. Time was moving on. It was now 2036. They needed to be in position by at least 0200 the next morning so they could conduct their recce between then and 0330 when sleep would be dragging at the eyes of the sentries on duty, and any other soldier in their right mind would be getting as much sleep as possible. Another hour found them at the western boundary of the forest. Opposite them was the L422, running southwest towards the large village of Gestorf about a kilometre away. They would have to be quick and careful. They knew instinctively there were Soviet troops in the area. Just before the last battery of the image intensifier died, Wilf had spotted a vehicle a few hundred metres to their west, along with a small contingent of Komendantskaya, Soviet traffic controllers. They were camped on the opposite side of the L422, in a clump of trees a kilometre north of Gestorf. There was a steady stream of traffic moving along the road. Convoys travelling at about twenty kilometres per hour moved in both directions. Wilf led his men north, keeping just inside the treeline, out of sight of any prying eyes and of the Soviet traffic police. After 500 metres, the treeline veered sharply right and, after a few minutes observation, using binoculars and comparing what they could see with what was on the map, they concluded that they were at the western edge of a U-shaped opening in the centre of the forest. The U-shaped clearing was scattered with clumps of trees throughout. The U-shape was about 600 metres deep by 200 metres wide, completely open at the western edge. They were at the lower branch of the U-shape. Two dark shapes that could be seen off centre warranted further investigation. Maybe we’ve found what we’ve been seeking, thought Wilf, the purpose of the Soviet traffic police close by now evident.
“We need to get closer,” hissed Wilf. “I want to recce across the other side of the road. The map shows a copse about 250 metres from the road. If this is what I think it is, there will be missile TELs scattered all around this area. I’ll take Badger and we’ll go east and do a full circuit of the open ground.”
“Me and Hacker cross the road?”
“That’s right, Tag. I thought you would appreciate the exercise.”
“You mean Badger’s too knackered,” Tag responded with a smile.
“Fuck off, you two,” grunted Badger. “Outrun you wankers any day.”
“Yeah, being chased by a young girl’s irate father.”
“Stow it,” snapped Wilf. He didn’t mind the humour and knew it was just friendly banter but he needed to think, get his head around their mission. If these were what he thought they were, and headquarters for a change were correct, this was a high value target that needed taking out.
“Sorry, Wilfy,” they chimed in unison.
“We meet on the corner there,” he said, pointing to the northern branch of the U-shaped opening opposite.
“How long?” Asked Tag.
“How long do you need?” Responded Wilf.
Tag thought for a moment, calculating distances and timings. “The ground is wide open between here and the road. The soil of the field opposite the opening is too light. We’ll go south for 100 metres then cross next to the field with cabbages, or whatever they are.”
“Won’t that bring you out close to the Soviet police?”
“Yeah. I’d prefer to go round the back of this lot and come at it from the north, but we ain’t got the time.”
Wilf nodded, knowing he was right. “How long?”
“We’ll go for two hours.”
“OK, shoot.”
Tag and Hacker moved off south, and Wilf led Badger to the east. It took them eighty minutes to do a complete circuit, ending up at the rendezvous point. They had seen two TELs so suspected that Tag would find the other two across the road. After a twenty-minute wait, the pair were re-joined by Tag and Hacker.
“We found two,” informed Hacker. “SS-23s would be my guess.”
“Army?” suggested Tag.
“Yes but, according to HQ, these could be part of a GSFG SSM Brigade.”
“Shit, that means there must be eighteen of the buggers around here.”
“Wow, Badger, you listened to the briefings after all.”
Badger humphed, not responding to Hacker’s gibe.
“They have two brigades,” Wilf reminded them. “We have two TELs as well. Badger and I will see to these two. I’m afraid it’s back across the road for you, Tag. Did you see any movement?”
“Not a sausage apart from a couple of cops sat in canvas chairs on the roadside watching the traffic pass them by.”
“Right, let’s do it then. Tag and Hacker, take out the two across the road; me and Badger have these two. If you come across any resupply, sort them as well. RV here. The emergency RV is the southeast point of the Deister. We need to start moving west. OK… well, you know what to do. If you see any sentries, try and avoid them and target the vehicles. TELs first.” He patted each one on the shoulder then patted Badger’s arm twice. They would be working together. “Let’s go.”
Wilf and Badger moved off right while Tag and Hacker went left. They came across the first TEL, the NATO codename Spider, 200 metres from the base of the ‘U’ and settled down to watch.
“Great, there’s no bloody guards,” added Badger.
“They’ll have some somewhere,” whispered Wilf in response.
“Let’s get on with it then, Wilfy,” hissed Badger. “If they suddenly get a call to prep, we’ll be stuffed.”
The two TELs they were going for were spaced about 150 metres apart. Wilf peered into the darkness: only enough moonlight to pick out the lofty shapes of the bulky missile carriers. The nearest one, now within fifty-metres of their position, was heavily tarped, and camouflage netting had been stretched across it and tied to two trees on the one side making a canopy. The missile unit had chosen an area that was surrounded by trees, but the centre was open enough for the vehicles to move around freely and fire their rockets when required. This enabled the crews to hide their vehicles, but they had the ability to quickly prepare for a launch if called upon.
Wilf scanned the area with his binoculars, the batteries for the image intensifier having well and truly died. Handing them to Badger, he pointed to the bundles that lay beneath the man-made canopy, next to the nearest TEL. Badger handed the binoculars back and Wilf secreted them in his small pack, the larger pack hidden next to a tree trunk to be collected when they had completed their mission. If they were unable to pick it up as a consequence of being discovered, their supplies of food, water and ammunition would be severely limited.
Wilf indicated they move, and the two men, like ghosts, flitted from tree to tree, constantly on the lookout for a sentry on guard duty. As they found themselves in the vicinity of the tail end of the TEL, Badger grabbed Wilf’s arm and pointed towards the boat-shaped front end of the amphibious Transporter Erector Launcher. Wilf stared but saw nothing. He was about to shrug his shoulders and ask Badger what he was on about when he saw the windows of the missile carrier’s cab light up. Ten seconds later, it occurred again.