Read Warning Order (A Spider Shepherd short story) for Free Online Page A

palm-fringed, white sand beaches. ‘Not bad,’ Jimbo whispered to Shepherd. ‘I’m packing my Ambre Solaire and my Speedos, in case we get some downtime.’
    Another picture showed a huge, creeper-clad stone structure like a ruined English castle. It looked as out of place in its tropical setting as a mud hut on Salisbury Plain. 
    ‘What’s that?’ asked Shepherd.
    ‘It’s one of the slave traders’ forts, where slaves were held before being sold to the British for shipment to the New World colonies,’ Jamie said.
    Jock grinned. ‘Bet your ancestors bought a few poor bastards there then.’
    The Situation brief was more revealing. It became clear that the new buzz phrase among the military top brass was now ‘Special Forces’.  No longer would the SAS work alone, Jamie said, ‘because the new world order demands more troops with the technical ability to survive in the changed circumstances in which we find ourselves.’ 
    ‘Or to put it another way, more men also means more rank for our beloved senior officers,’ Shepherd muttered.  
    ‘Got it in one,’ Jock whispered.
    Jamie also talked vaguely about the patrol’s need to work with ‘other, more irregular forces’, which did not make a great deal of sense to any of them, but there was a collective shrugging of shoulders and they moved on.
    ‘Now, Mission,’ Jamie said, and at once had everyone’s attention. ‘There is a civil war raging in the country. It’s a complicated picture and the details of it aren’t strictly relevant to your operation, so suffice it to say that there are various rebel groupings, the most powerful one supported by Liberia. The rebel groups are fighting with each other and with the government forces, not so much for control of the country as for control of the diamond-producing areas. The government forces are militarily ineffective, poorly paid, poorly armed, and poorly disciplined. They have a tendency to be passive in the face of rebel forces and in some cases they actively collude with them. ECOMOG troops - don’t worry about the acronym, it just means troops from a bunch of West African states, with Nigeria having by far the largest contingent - are supporting the government but having secured the airport perimeter they haven’t shown much interest in advancing beyond it and the government’s own writ barely extends beyond the capital. The rebels run the countryside, pretty much.’
    He paused. ‘Enough background, I think. Your operation is a small support role to the Operational Squadron’s intervention in the civil war now raging in Sierra Leone. You are to make a para insertion into the sea off the coast, do a beach reconnaissance and mark the beach for a landing by friendly forces.  When the landing is over, you are to remain in the area awaiting further orders, and eventually you will link up with the Operational Squadron for repatriation to UK.’   For emphasis, he read the mission statement again, so there was no excuse for anyone not understanding it.
     Jock at once asked the obvious question, ‘If we’re inserting by sea, why isn’t this op being done by the Shakies?’ he said, the Regiment’s sarcastic nickname - Shaky Boat Squadron - for the SBS. 
    ‘The obvious reason: because we want it done right,’ said Jamie, and the troopers – but not the officers – chuckled.
    Jamie went on to cover Execution: how the Regiment’s hierarchy saw the operation being carried out. As always in SAS ops, it was subject to the patrol’s agreement, and they were free to amend and adjust it as they thought fit.
    The remainder of the briefing was routine, concluding with the Yeoman briefing them on technical stuff about settings on the radio, schedules and lost comms procedures.
    Just as Shepherd and the rest of the patrol thought they were done, the Ops Officer dropped one final bombshell, ‘Oh, by the way’, he said. ‘You may come across some of our friends from Six when you’re on the ground