own tracks and sited themselves on a low ridge overlooking the way they had come just a few minutes earlier. They did not have to wait long before they heard movement below them. As the Guatemalans moved into the ambush area, advancing in single file behind their Mayan scout. At Pilgrim’s signal, Shepherd and the others opened up with their SLRs, laying down a barrage of fire that flashed inches above the heads of the troops and ripped the vegetation around and in front of them to shreds. The Guatemalans fled in all directions, two of them dropping their rifles as they ran.
The SAS patrol then split up and moved away quickly in different directions. Shepherd moved through the jungle alone for an hour, paused to listen, and then began to make his way towards the RV point. Pilgrim was already there when he reached it, appearing out of the shadows like a ghost. The others arrived within a few minutes. They compared notes and since Jimbo told them he’d heard sounds of pursuit, they again split up, and came back together again, using the rendezvous system until they were certain they had broken contact with their pursuers. ‘It’ll take the Guatemalans several hours to get themselves reorganised,’ Pilgrim said at last, ‘and even if they do manage to pick up our trail again, they’re very unlikely to attempt to follow us into Belize.’
They re-crossed the border soon afterwards and in another hour were close to the RV with the local infantry. Pilgrim peered through the jungle towards the RV point about three hundred yards away. ‘You get down in cover,’ he said, ‘while I go forward and make contact with them.’ He disappeared noiselessly through the jungle and a few minutes had ticked by when there was a sudden ragged burst of firing. Shepherd and the others sprinted forward, weapons at the ready. They found Pilgrim on the ground with a gunshot wound in his leg. As they came into the view of the infantry there was another burst of fire and the SAS men flattened themselves in the dirt.
‘Stop firing you fucking idiots!’ Liam bellowed at the top of his voice, his face purple with fury. ‘Can’t you see the fucking yellow bands on our hats?’ He waited a moment then cautiously showed himself and this time there was no more firing.
Geordie ran to Pilgrim and began treating him, while the others started bollocking the infantry officer who ran up to them, his face ashen with shock or fright.
‘Go easy on him,’ Pilgrim said, propping himself on one elbow and ignoring Geordie’s demand to ‘Lie down again you idiot, how do you expect me to treat you if you’re jumping around like a frog on a hotplate?’
‘Don’t blame the infantry guy,’ Pilgrim said. ‘It’s my own stupid fault. I should have realised that they’d be spooked and jittery after the small arms fire at yesterday’s ambush and would be likely to shoot first and check who it was afterwards. I should have made more noise as I went towards them.’ He gave a self-deprecating smile. ‘It just shows, you never stop learning.’ He bit his lip and fell silent as pain lanced through his leg.
‘Will you lie down?’ Geordie said, putting one of his huge hands on Pilgrim’s chest and forcing him flat. The infantry company signaller radioed for a casevac and when Geordie had finished working on Pilgrim, the four of them carried him to the LZ a few thousand yards away. Within half an hour they were airborne and on their way to the main hospital in Belize City.
Once Pilgrim had been safely delivered, Shepherd and the others returned to base and had their first shower and shave in a fortnight but found they could eat almost nothing. Their stomachs had contracted to the size of a fist and Shepherd felt full after just a couple of mouthfuls.
That evening they went to see Pilgrim in hospital. He was sitting up in bed, flirting with one of the nurses, but Shepherd was surprised, almost shocked, to see how frail he looked in the
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