Back Graveyard of Empires
Chapters (60)
  1. Note to Readers
  2. Dedication
  3. Discover the Series You Can’t Put Down …
  4. PROLOGUE
  5. Chapter 1
  6. Chapter 2
  7. Chapter 3
  8. Chapter 4
  9. Chapter 5
  10. Chapter 6
  11. Chapter 7
  12. Chapter 8
  13. Chapter 9
  14. Chapter 10
  15. Chapter 11
  16. Chapter 12
  17. Chapter 13
  18. Chapter 14
  19. Chapter 15
  20. Chapter 16
  21. Chapter 17
  22. Chapter 18
  23. Chapter 19
  24. Chapter 20
  25. Chapter 21
  26. Chapter 22
  27. Chapter 23
  28. Chapter 24
  29. Chapter 25
  30. Chapter 26
  31. Chapter 27
  32. Chapter 28
  33. Chapter 29
  34. Chapter 30
  35. Chapter 31
  36. Chapter 32
  37. Chapter 33
  38. Chapter 34
  39. Chapter 35
  40. Chapter 36
  41. Chapter 37
  42. Chapter 38
  43. Chapter 39
  44. Chapter 40
  45. Chapter 41
  46. Chapter 42
  47. Chapter 43
  48. Chapter 44
  49. Chapter 45
  50. Chapter 46
  51. Chapter 47
  52. Chapter 48
  53. Chapter 49
  54. Chapter 50
  55. Chapter 51
  56. Chapter 52
  57. Acknowledgements
  58. About the Author
  59. Other Books By
  60. About the Publisher

The bullet that took away most of Goffin’s head came from a fifty-calibre rifle, fired at close range from less than a hundred metres away behind the houses. Milliseconds later, the booming report sounded over the rooftops and echoed around the mountains. But by then all hell had already broken loose and the rattle of automatic gunfire was coming in staccato bursts from all over the village.

If Ben had had time to think about it instead of ducking for cover, he’d have been remembering what Goffin had said about Faazel: the way he’d texted instead of calling, the fact that anyone could have sent that message. He’d have been thinking that Faazel was probably already dead before that; that the enemy had taken him, tortured information out of him, and that this fake rendezvous had been set up as an orchestrated ambush. And that Saleem’s associates who’d brought the Humvees here to Ghurdak had already suffered a nasty death as well.

But Ben didn’t have time to reflect over any of those things as the bullets were suddenly flying everywhere. The Taliban fighters had picked the perfect moment to spring their surprise attack, just as the task force were at their least prepared for it and most of their kit was still packed up in the vans, much of it not even assembled let alone combat-ready. If they hadn’t been carrying their personal weapons they would have stood no chance at all against the withering enemy fire.

As it was, even so they stood very little.

It was impossible to tell how many Taliban fighters had invaded the tiny village, but it seemed like over fifty judging by the ferocity of the attack. Darting shapes of men could be seen running between the buildings, clutching assault rifles and grenade launchers. Ben had unslung his carbine and managed to get off a couple of short bursts, taking one man down and injuring another, before the ground at his feet was violently whipped into a storm of flying dirt, a line of holes punched into the bodywork of the van behind him, and he was forced to dive under the vehicle for cover.