“He’s busy right now.”
“You tell him I want to talk.” Kundi turned away andback toward the bazaar.
“So I guess we’re walking,” Brown said, staringat the burning Hummer.began to lose my breath. I wanted to move all theand children to a tent city just outside town,
OS T RE C O Ncall in an air strike and level the entire place and tellwe were turning it into a parking lot for a Wal-Supercenter.we’d go to Zahed and say, This will happen tovillage if you don’t turn yourself in. I couldn’t under-how helping these people would help us win the. I was willing to bet that even that guy who’d helpedwould stab me in the back if push came to shove.was ready to leave, but of course the mission hadbegun.
reached the edge of town, where in the distance twoHummers bounced across the desert like mechani-dragons wagging long tails of dust. I squinted andthat one truck contained the rest of my team, whileother was carrying Harruck. In about five minutesreached us and screeched to a stop.
“Man, they were fast,” said Paul Smith from thetruck. “They ditched their ride and scattered like. We asked around. No one’s talking. They’re allafraid to say anything. No shock there.”
“All right,” I said, then took a deep breath andto Harruck as he hopped out of the cab. “Weone, got one.”
“What the hell, Scott? You shouldn’t have followed
OS T RE C O Ninto town, for God’s sake! Maybe you can operatethe ROE, but I can’t. And I won’t. I’ve spent atime trying to work something out with them.”
“With who? That guy Kundi? He’s a scumbag whoburn you. Come on, Simon, you already know that.’re all opportunists, scammers, users...”
“Which means we have to play them just right, Scott.right. We need to be the ones they thinkthey can.” He glanced at my men, feeling the heat of their. “Look, we’ll talk about this later.”
“They burned our Hummer,” I said as he turned.whirled back. “What?”
“They beat him up and burned our Hummer.” Ia thumb at the mechanic, now sporting a bloodyon his forehead. “Nice, isn’t it...”
“What the hell did you expect?”shrugged. “I don’t know.”
“Do me a favor, just... for now... don’t try to help...”’s company suffered seven dead and fourteen. We killed about eight or nine around the base,more dead in the mountains, but the Taliban recov-those bodies before we could confirm the kills.’s snipers were confident that at least fourhad been taken down. The fires had been put out,Harruck already had crews cleaning up the mess bytime he returned from town and nearly broke downdoor of our billet. “Let’s go,” he snapped.
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rest of my team made faces as I followed him outacross the base, feeling like a cherry about to beon by his CO, yet also resenting how upsethad become. He had to take his anger out on, I guess. I acknowledged that he was the CO, and though I didn’t answer exclusively to him, Irespect his authority despite my far greater expe-. I could easily get Keating to override him, butI did that, our friendship would be over.collapsed into his chair. I took the one in front ofdusty desk. You could still smell the ash and cindersthe mess hall wafting in through the open window,a small fan pivoting to and fro on the desk didn’t. I stared at the fan a moment, then took a deepand closed my eyes. “So, okay, buddy, let’s have it.”I opened my eyes, he was pouring me a drink,one for himself.took the shot, downed it quickly. He did the same,, then said, “I need a miracle.”
“I thought we were going to fight.”shrugged. “I know where you’re coming from.I need to be honest with you—it looks like remov-Zahed from power could do more harm than good.”
“Simon, unless you can get my orders revised, I’mto do one thing.”
“You haven’t met the district governor here, have?”shook my head. “Just read about him in the brief-. He’s another model citizen.”
“Well, yeah, if you recall, the guy’s name is Naimut
OS T RE C O N. He came in here last year and promised these peo-the world, told them the Afghan government would. He didn’t do anything except take their money.’s like a Mafia kingpin, and his word means nothing.the people think of the government, they see. He’s in bed with some of the warlords up north,it’s pretty damned clear he’s on the payroll forproduction.”snorted. “And he’s the guy we’re trying to support.’s the goodguy.”cursed through a sigh. “Look, Zahed’s akiller. His men are Huns. But the canals thathere, the bazaar? He financed all of that, had hisbuild it all. The Taliban brought in the naturaltanks and have been talking about getting powerhooked up.”
“And Kundi, our big landowner, supports all of this,”said.
“Here’s the thing. And I’ve been thinking about thisday. If you take out Zahed too early—before I cansomething going here—then they’ll still hate us andus with the government.”
“They’ve already done that.”
“Not all of them. If we can build them their school,police station, and dig them a new well—and weon those promises—then the timing will be per-to remove Zahed and maybe even bring in a new. I’ve heard talk of that, too. Start off with aslate.”sat back and tried to consider everything without
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a migraine. “You want me to believe it’s all that.”
“I’ve got nothing else, Scott. I can’t walk out of herea failure.”
“The legacy, huh?”
“This entire company is depending on me to helpcomplete the mission. We’re not even close yet.”
“What if your mission is bullshit?”
“It’s not.”
“My people seem to think that if we take out the Tal-leadership, we’ll be in a better position to help these—not that I agree with that, either. I mean... how are you supposed to build a school with noand constant attacks from them?”lowered his voice. “Maybe we can work with.”started laughing. “Last night I untied a girl from atable, and you’re telling me you want to work withpeople?”
“Money talks.”
“Simon, if you go there, then you’re no better than. I’m telling you.”
“My back’s against the wall.”knock came at the door, and the company’s executive, Martin Shoregan, peeked inside. He was a leanman and highly articulate, clearly being groomedlead a company of his own. “Sir, sorry to interrupt.. Anderson is here from the ARO.”bolted out of his chair. “Are you kidding me?”
“Do you want me to—”
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“Send her right in!” he cried.glanced up at him. “Do you want me—”
“No, please stay.”door opened, and in stepped a woman in a green-high-bodice dress with a swirling skirt and widedraped over her head. Blond hair spilled out fromfront of the shawl, and she grinned easily at us as Ito meet her.
“Captain Harruck?” she asked, looking at me.shook my head.
“I’m Captain Simon Harruck.” He proffered his. “And this is a friend.”shook hands with Harruck, then smiled at me.
“Well, hello, friend. I guess if I get your name, then’ll have to kill me?”shrugged. “Call me Scott. Where are you from??”
“Sydney. Very good. You?”
“I’m not here.”liked that. “Right...”told her to take my seat, and I didn’t mind.was easy on the eyes.two exchanged a few more pleasantries, and Ithat they’d spoken on the phone for many months.said she was finally able to gather the resources andthe Afghanistan Relief Organization (ARO)—alongmore than a dozen other relief groups—was ready towith Army engineers on the construction of the, police station, and solar-powered well. All of thehad been struck with the district governor and
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elders, and they should be able to break grounda week. Funding was finally in place.
“This is the news I’ve been waiting to hear for eightnow,” said Harruck, his voice cracking. Heover at me and nodded.didn’t hide my skepticism. “Dr. Anderson, I assume Doctoris for Ph.D.?”
“That’s right. My brother’s the medical doctor in our. My degree is in agricultural economics and rural. Call me Cassie.”
“Well, Cassie, you’re a smart woman, and you under-the political situation here.”
“I’ve been working in this country for three years. So, yes, I’m keenly aware of what’s happening. Thehas made significant strides despite all the corrup-.”
“I understand, but you don’t see this as a terrificof resources?”
“Excuse me?”
“We’re going to provide all these services for the local, but when we leave, the Taliban will movein and destroy them, or exploit them, or hold them. We should neutralize the enemy first, build a, then provide these people with an infrastructureafter they can protect themselves.”looked at Harruck. “Your friend’s a bit of a.”
“His mission has become slightly different than, but I think we can all work together to make this.”
OS T RE C O Nraised my voice, if only a little. “Simon, do you thinkhelping these people you’ll really build their trust?’ll always be foreigners.”
“I need to try. At least for the children.”took a deep breath. “I have a mission.”
“I understand. But would you be willing to talk to? Maybe just buy us some time?”
“That’s the one thing they’re telling me I don’t have.”
“Will you at least try?”shrugged, then turned to the door.
“Scott, I respect your opinion, and I’m going to needhelp. Let’s do this together.”couldn’t answer, and I’m glad I didn’t.
“Nice to meet you... Scott,” said Anderson.grin was forced, and she knew it.returned to quarters and sat around with the rest of my, who were cleaning weapons. Hume and Nolanbusy dissecting the Cross-Coms for any more clueshad speculated that high-energy radio frequenciesprobably to blame. I told them to keep working onand shared with everyone what Harruck planned to do.
“He’s just painting a bigger target on this town andoff the Taliban,” said Brown. “The local govern-’s corrupt. That’s a given. So these people have cometrust the Taliban, who’ve kept their word. Now we’reto get them to trust us more by giving themstuff, and we’re supposed to think that once we’vetheir trust, they’ll help us capture the Taliban.”
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“Exactly,” I said. “But what’s wrong with that pic-?”started laughing. “The Taliban ain’t goinglet that happen.”
“Harruck actually said we might have to work with.”
“Are you serious?” asked Ramirez, who set down aand turned his frown on me.
“See, Harruck knows that if we build the school andrest of it, the Taliban will attack, so how do you getoff your back?”
“You take out their leader, disrupt their communica-, and demoralize them,” said Matt Beasley, who’dvery quiet the past few days. I could now hear thein his tone.
“That might work, Matt, and you can bet we’re goingtry. But that’s not Harruck’s plan.”made the money sign with his fingers.
“Oh, yeah,” I said. “They’ll try to cut a deal.”
“Well, then, what’re we supposed to do?” asked. “Harruck’s offering a handshake while we’reguns to their heads.”
“Look, he can’t do that openly,” I said. “Imagine the. Bottom line is the taxpayers need an enemycan believe in—just as much as a hero.”
“All this is making my brain explode,” said Treehorn.
“I need a bullet and a target. I’m easy to please. The restit is bullshit.”
“Captain, I know Harruck’s your friend,” began, “but we weren’t sent here to build a school. If
OS T RE C O Nis a good old-fashioned militia training op, I canwith that, too. But we can’t be tiptoeing aroundstill get our job done.”
“I know. And there’s no reason we should get caughtin all this. I want to go back out there tonight, gatherintel, and proceed on mission.”
“We’ve got the drones but still no way to talk to,” said Hume. “Waiting on new gear. Could be amore days.”cursed. “Then we’ll do it the old-fashioned way., binoculars, NVGs, it’s not like we didn’t trainway,” I said.
“You going to tell Harruck?” asked Treehorn.
“No choice. We still need company support. Heme to call Keating and delay our mission. I don’tabout you guys, but I’d rather get the job doneget the hell out of here as soon as possible.”
“So just lie to him,” said Treehorn.thought about that.I wondered if maybe I was just being a selfish, but my guys felt the same way, so I lied and toldno go. Our mission remained unchanged. Weto find and capture Zahed.
“Don’t you understand?” he asked me, raising hiswhen I returned to his office later in the day. “Thiseight months’ worth of work finally coming together,you want to screw it up just to nail that fat bastard’ll be replaced by his second in command! If we’t reach some kind of an agreement, nothing will.”
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“They didn’t send me here to debate the politics,. They sent me to get a guy, and you can’t blamefor doing that. I understand your mission here. All’m asking is that you understand mine. If I can captureand they get him to talk, he could turn the tideus.”
“Okay, yeah, I get it now. I understand how you’reto incite them and create an even more volatile situ-, as evidenced by today’s attack. And at the samethat I’m trying to earn the locals’ trust, you’re piss-them off by hunting down one fool who in the grandof things means nothing. He’s a local yokel.’re making him sound like Bin Laden.”balled my hands into fists. “You’re assuming that I’t demoralize them, that I can’t get the whole leader-party, that no matter what I do it’s going to be sta-quo over there.”
“That’s right, because that’s the way it’s been here. If’re going to change anything, it has to be big and, and we need to do it together—if we leave them, we’re doomed to fail.”couldn’t face him any more and looked to the door.
“Scott—”took a deep breath. “I understand now why you’t become a Ghost.”
“Don’t be this way.”
“Sorry, I’m not like you, Simon. I’m a soldier.”
“Wow, what the hell was that?”faced him and spoke slowly... for effect. “What Ihere is us building another welfare state, socialism at
OS T RE C O Nfinest, but remember what Margaret Thatcher said:
‘Socialism only works until you run out of other people’s.’ I’m not ready to negotiate with these bastards.”
“Captain,” he snapped. “I’ll be contacting the gen-. I’ll take this all the way up. There’s just too much athere. Nothing personal.”
“That’s fine. You won’t like the answer you get. We’rea recon tonight. I’ll need company support. I’llyou to provide it. Check the registry, Captain.”
our Cross-Coms, satellite uplinks and down-, and targeting computers, we were, for all intentspurposes, traditional old-school combatants relyingour scopes and skills. We did, however, have one nicewell suited for Afghanistan: the XM-25, a laser-grenade launcher with smart rounds that didrequire a link to our Cross-Coms. Matt Beasley hadin his rifle for the XM-25, saying he predictedhe’d finally get a chance to field-test the weapon for. His prediction would come true, all right...couldn’t deny the fact that long-range recon from thewould gain us only a small portion of the big. We needed HUMINT—human intelligence—
OS T RE C O Ncould be gathered only by boots on the ground...walking among the enemy.guy I’d captured back in town was worthless. He’t talk, make a deal, nothing. Harruck handedoff to the CIA and wished him good riddance.at that point it was both necessary and logical thattry to recruit the only local guy I knew who was seem-on my side.won’t say I fully trusted him—because I never did.I figured the least I could do was ask. Maybe for theprice he’d be willing to walk into the valley of theof death and bring me back Zahed’s location.Ghosts gave me an allowance for such cases, and Ion spending it. I had nothing to lose except the’ money, and I worked for the government—sowas par for the course.and I got a lift into town, and dressed likewith the shemaghscovering our heads and faces,had the driver let us off about a block from the. Ramirez would keep in radio contact with our.wouldn’t have remembered the house if I didn’tthe young girl standing near the front door. Sheone look at me, gaped, then ran back into the, slamming the door after her. Ramirez looked at, and we shifted forward. I didn’t have to knock. Thewho’d helped me capture the Taliban thug emerged.lowered my shemagh, and he didn’t look happy to see. “Hello again.”
“Hello.”
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proffered my hand. “My name is Scott. And this is.”sighed and begrudgingly took the hand. “I amShilmani.” He shook hands with Ramirez as.
“Do you have a moment to talk?”glanced around the street, then lifted his chingestured that we go into his house.table I’d seen earlier was gone, replaced by largecushions spread across newly unfurled carpets.’d learned during my first tour in the country thatate on the floor and that the cushions were toshakand that the thin mat in the center was a.
“We didn’t mean to interrupt your dinner,” I said.
“Please sit. You are our guests.” He spoke rapidly in, calling out to the rest of his family down the.knew that hospitality was very important in thecode of honor. They routinely prepared the bestfood for their guests, even if the rest of the fam-did without.his family entered from the hall, heads lowered, Shilmani raised a palm. “This is my wife, Panra;daughter, Hila; and my son, Hewad.”returned nervous grins, and then the motherdaughter hustled off, while the boy came to us andto take our shemaghsand showed us where to sitthe floor. Then he ran off and returned with a specialand jug called a haftawa-wa-lagan.
OS T RE C O N
“You don’t have to feed us,” I told Shilmani, realiz-that the boy had brought the bowl to help us washhands and prepare for the meal.
“I insist.”glanced over at Ramirez. “Only use your right. Remember?”
“Gotcha, boss.”
“You’ve been here before,” said Shilmani. “I mean.”nodded. “I love the tea.”
“Excellent.”
“Will you tell me now how you learned English?”sighed. “I used to work for your military as a trans-, but it got too dangerous, so I gave it up.”gave me a look. Perhaps we were wastingtime and had received the noalready...
“They taught you?”
“Yes, a special school. I was young and somewhat. And I volunteered. But when Hila was born, Ito leave.”
“They threatened you?”
“You mean the Taliban?”nodded.
“Of course. If you help the Americans, you suffer the.”
“You’re taking a pretty big risk right now,” Iout.
“Not really. Besides, I owe you.”
“For what? You helped me capture that man.”
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“And you helped me get him out of my house. I wasfor my wife and daughter. In most cases it is for-for a woman to be in the presence of a man whonot related to her—but I am more liberal than that.”
“Glad to hear it.”if on cue, the wife and daughter entered and pro-all of us with tea. I took a long pull on my cup andthe flavor, which somehow tasted like pista-.
“So, Scott, what do you do for the Army?”
“I take care of problems.”
“But you cannot do it alone. You want my help.”
“I don’t trust you. I don’t trust anyone here. But mywould be easier, and fewer innocent people wouldhurt, if I could get some help.”
“What do you need?”
“Not what. Who.”took a deep breath and stroked his thin. “You’ve come for Zahed.”smiled. “Why not?”
“Because that’s impossible.”
“Nothing’s impossible,” said Ramirez.
“He has too many friends, even American friends,too many connections. He has too many assets forto ever get close. They always know when you’re. And they’re always prepared. They have eyes onbase every hour of every day. You cannot leavethem knowing about it.”
“So they know I’m here.”
OS T RE C O N
“Yes, they do.”
“And I’ve already put you in danger?”
“No, because I work for Mirab Mir Burki, who is theof water distribution here in Zhari.”
“I don’t understand.”
“Burki knows you Americans want to dig a new well.wants that well, and he’s already negotiated withover rights to the water and the profits. We’re justfor you to build it. Any contact I have withis part of our water negotiations—so as yousay, I have a good cover.”
“What is it you want?”
“What all men want. Money. Safety for my family. Alife.” Shilmani finished his tea, then topped offcups and refilled his own.
“You want to see Zahed captured?”
“He’s not a good influence here—despite what otherssay. He does not break promises, but when he givessomething, the price is always very steep.”
“Kundi seems to like him.”
“That old man is a fool, and Zahed would put a knifehis back. There is no loyalty there.”
“Would you go over to Sangsar and work for us?”’s gaze turned incredulous. “No. Of course.”
“But you said you wanted money. I can work out anthat would be very good for you—andfamily.”
“I am no good to my family if I’m dead.”
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“We can protect you.”
“You’re not a good liar, Scott.”finished the tea, and Shilmani’s wife and daughterrice and an onion-based quormaor stew, alongchutneys, pickles, and naan—an unleavened breadin a clay oven. The food was delicious, and thecontinued urging us to eat more., while his family retreated to the back ofhouse, Shilmani wiped his mouth, then stared hardme. “You have to remember something, Scott. Afterof you are gone, we are left to pick up the pieces.’re just trying to do the best we can for ourselves.”stood. “I know that. Thanks for the meal. If youto give me some information about Zahed, I’ll payit. If you change your mind about going to Sangsar,just tell one of the soldiers on patrol that you wantspeak to me. I’ll get the word.”
“Okay. And one more thing. Walk in my shoes for a. I cannot trust the Taliban. I cannot trust myelder or my boss. I cannot trust the district gov-. And I cannot trust you, the foreigner.”
“You know something? I think I’m already there,” Ihim.pursed his lips and gestured that we leave. Iback to the family, said our good-byes, then ambledinto the street, as Ramirez got on the radio andthe Hummer driver.
“What do you think?” he asked as we started aroundcorner. “Waste of time?”
OS T RE C O N
“I don’t think so. He doesn’t like Zahed.”
“Yeah, seems like there’s more to it.”
“And maybe we can use that to our advantage.”eleven P.M. local time I got a satellite phone callLieutenant Colonel Gordon back at Fort Bragg.’d just arrived in the office and was telling me that hiscoffee tasted bitter because I had yet to capture., after he finished issuing a string of epithetsthe call he’d just had with General Keating, hehis throat and said to me point-blank, “Is Cap-Harruck going to be a problem?”
“I don’t know. To be honest with you, Colonel, Ihigher’s just throwing stuff at the wall to see what, and we’re all just part of the plan.”
“Well, you listen to me, Mitchell, and you listen togood. We both know this COIN mission is completeutter nonsense. It’s politicians running the war. You’t secure the population and let the enemy run wild.ain’t playing defense here! And we can’t have that.far as I’m concerned, it is nota good day to be a Tal-leader in the Zhari district. Do you read me?”
“Loud and clear, sir.”
“New Cross-Coms are en route. Meanwhile, you doyou need to do. Next week at this time I’d like topowwowing with the fat man.”
“Roger that, sir.”
“And Mitchell?”
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“Yes, sir?”
“Is something wrong?”
“No, sir. I’m fine. Talk to you soon.”’d thought he’d heard me cracking under the pres-, but later on I realized that my heart was just dark-, and the old man could sense that from a half aaway.about three A.M. local time, in the wee hours, we leftbase in a Hummer driven by Treehorn. Harruckno attempts to stop us. I’d assumed he’d been toldKeating that he should not interfere with my mission.of driving out into the desert, toward the, we headed off to the town, so that the Tal-now watching us from ridgelines and the desertassume we were just another village patrol.in town, we went to the bazaar area, where sev-vendors had their old beater pickup trucks parkedbehind their homes/stalls.split into two teams and entered the homes behindstalls, accosting the shop owners and demanding theirat gunpoint.old merchants saw only a band of masked wraithsdeep, angry voices.five minutes we had two pickup trucks on the, and the old men who could blow the alarm wereand tied. They might guess we were Americans,we spoke only in Pashto and were dressed like thethemselves.
OS T RE C O Nsent Jenkins back with the Hummer, and though hebummed to remain in the rear, I told him I neededgood pair of eyes on the base... just in case.drove out to the main bridge over the Arghandab, dropped off Brown and Smith, then crossed the, heading along the mountain road that wound itsup and back down into the valley where Sangsar laythe cool moonlight. The town reminded me of thevillages my grandfather would build for his train. He had a two-car garage filled with locomotivescars and towns and enough accessories to earn himspot on the local news. When he passed, my father soldall on eBay and made a lot of money.Taliban sentries watching us through their bin-probably assumed we were opium smugglers orout some other such transport mission for. In fact, we were not stopped and reached the topthe mountain, where the dirt road broadened enoughus to pull over, park the vehicles, and move in closerfoot.’d taken such great care to slip into Sangsar duringfirst raid attempt that I’d felt certain no Taliban hadus, but according to Shilmani, they had. Interest-that Zahed did not tip off his guards at the com-and allowed them to be ambushed. That wasclever of him., this time our plan was more bold. Be seen.mistaken. And be deadly.had rigged up a temporary remote for thedrone, and though there was no screen from
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we could view the drone’s data, he could fly it likeremote-controlled UFO, keeping a visual on it with hisvision goggles.were bass fishing for Taliban, and the drone wasred rubber worm.five minutes we’d taken up perches along therocks jutting from the mountainside and had, yet, an unobstructed and encompassing view of theand all of Sangsar.drone whirred away, and I lay there on my belly,watching it and thinking about Harruck and Shil-and that old man Kundi and remembering thatone of us had his own agenda, every one of us was, and every one of us would fight till the end.
“Sir,” whispered Treehorn, who was at my left shoul-. “Movement in the rocks behind us, six o’clock.”
I was a kid, D.C.’s Sgt. Rockand Marvel’s The
’Namwere among my favorite comics. I didn’t realize it, but what drew me to those stories was the simplic-of the plots. The good guys and bad guys were clearly, and you understood every character’s desirerelated with that desire. Kill bad guys. Save every-. Win the war. For America! Be proud! Come homeget a medal, be worshipped as a hero, live happilyafter. As a kid, you’re looking for admiration and, and being a superhero soldier always soundeddamned good to me., that would never happen if I stayed in Ohio.weren’t too many opportunities for me growing upYoungstown. Sure, I could’ve gone to work in the
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Motors assembly plant in Lordstown like myhad, but I doubt I would’ve matched his thirty. Boredom or the tanking economy would’ve finished. My brother Nicolas got out himself and became anprofessor down in Florida, while Tommyand operated Mitchell’s Auto Body and Repair in. He loved cars and had inherited that passionour father. He’d had no desire to ever leave homehad tried to persuade me to stay and run the shophim. Because Dad was an avid woodworker, Tommytried to persuade me to open a custom furniture shopwork with Dad, but that didn’t sound very glamorousan eighteen-year-old. Jennifer, the baby of our family,a wealthy software designer, and she lived withand their daughter in Northern California.I’d gone off to see the world and serve my coun-. Because that sounded so hokey, I told everyone Ijoining the Army to pay for my college education—Dad resented because it made us sound poor.can’t lie, though. During my service I’ve seen the, the bad, and the ugly—and it’s easy to become. When I’d joined, I was just as naïve as theguy, but for many years I clung to my beliefs andattitude, and I let my passion become infectious.I think after 9/11, when the GWOT (global warterrorism) got into full swing, my veneer grew a bit. It didn’t happen overnight, but every missionto sap me just a little more. I grew older, mybecame more worn, and my spirit seemed harderkindle.
OS T RE C O NI raised my right hand and they swore me in, Ithought I’d have to wrap my head around no-winin which everyone I dealt with was a liar, inmy own institution was undermining my ability tothe job done, and in which my own friends had drawnin the sand based on philosophical differences.my mother had died from cancer, she’d heldhand and told me to make the best of my life.figured she was rolling over in her grave when theycalling me a murderer...had a good ear and better eyes, and Iback to where he’d spotted the movement alongmountainside. My night-vision goggles revealed twofighters peering out from behind a pair of rocks,before I could get on the radio and issue an order,appeared from behind a few rocks and slippedtoward the Taliban thugs. As they turned back, heone out with his Nightwing black tungsten bladeNolan, who dropped down at Beasley’s side, brokeneck of the other fighter.called me and said, “Looks like only two up, boss. Clear now.”called up Ramirez, who was packing our portable,band radar unit that could detect groundup to several hundred meters away. I’d con-leaving the device behind in case we got zapped, but now I was glad we had it. I hadn’t expectedthis far up into the mountains. Within a minutewould be scanning the outskirts of the town.
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