One Dog at a Time Read Online Free PDF Page B

progress to the operations room through my headset. I figured that my boss was also listening in on developments.
    ‘Get them in the compound, 20C,’ a voice said over the radio.
    I looked around at Hutch, who just looked back at me with raised eyebrows. He also motioned towards Taliban Central in the woods to the east. I knew what he meant.
    I decided to speed things along.
    ‘Tell the commander that our commander will not allow a dog like that into our compound,’ I told the boy, ‘but I know where he can keep it.’
    It was clear that the dog had had bad experiences around humans and I wasn’t going to take the risk of it mauling one of our lads by taking it into the DC. At the same time, I doubted somehow that the ANP would cage it properly even if they did look after it, so I needed a temporary ‘kennel’ and the wrecked building that stood in the middle of the ruined compound next to ours was ideal for the moment.
    ‘We need to move now,’ I said, pointing in the direction of safety.
    The debate that then ensued between the commander and the young lad seemed rather one-way. But at the end of it the commander jumped off the roof of the vehicle and got into the driver’s seat without looking at me. ‘He will keep the dog outside the compound,’ the young boy explained, shouldering his Kalashnikov and making it seem like the commander had come up with the idea himself.
    ‘OK, I can live with that,’ I said, signalling to the hill that we were about to move back.
    We escorted the ANP back to the compound in an unlikely looking convoy. Dave led the way followed by the truck then the young police boys, dragging behind them the dog which, by now, seemed to have given up resisting. Hutch and I covered the rear of our little circus.
    The fact that I had formed a cunning plan to free the dog must have been written all over my face because as we walked Hutch kept looking at me curiously.
    I gave him the ‘I’ll tell you in a minute’ look back.
    ‘You sure the boss is happy with this, Sarge?’ Hutch asked as we geared up in the evening light.
    He knew I hated him calling me Sarge. Only the army used that slang and marines are desperately fierce about the fact that we are not part of the army.
    ‘Kind of,’ I replied.
    ‘What do you mean, kind of?’ Hutch said, looking at me with mock concern. ‘Kind of means he doesn’t know, doesn’t it?’
    ‘He said deal with it. So I am dealing with it,’ I nodded, smiling back and handing him the Leatherman. ‘Here, I think you might need that.’
    When we’d arrived back in the DC, I’d updated the boss on the situation with the dog. He’d told me to deal with it but not to upset the ANP if I could help it. He hadn’t wanted to know what I had in mind.
    The cool air of early evening sent a shiver down my spine. It was getting a lot colder a lot faster at sundown.
    I pulled my jacket collar up around my neck and walked over to join Hutch and a lad called Pete, who had volunteered to help us out during the three hours when he was meant to be sleeping. Without saying much we climbed on to the roof of the old cells that formed the back wall of our compound. The roof had been painted white to reflect the heat, which gave it the air of having been built with real materials instead of straw and mud. Not that tonight, with only a slight moon in the sky, you could really tell what colour it was.
    We used the darkness as we had been trained to, and ran at a crouch along the parapet on the edge of the roof through the shadows cast by the light from the low moon.
    The ANP lived in a small unkempt building towards the rear gate of our compound.
    Annoyingly they would always come out to investigate the clanging noise that meant the entry gate was being opened. For us to free the dog we needed them to be unaware of what we were up to. So that meant we couldn’t go through the gate but would have to drop down the rear wall.
    As we reached the lowest part of the wall, we