“And when does this happen?” asked Nolan, wincingthe whole idea.
“Pretty soon, I’m guessing.”
“Then we need to work something out. The HER F
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don’t affect the chips in our bodies, so we can stillyou.”
“You mean in case they take me prisoner.”
“So let me get this straight,” said Ramirez. “You’reto walk into a meeting, put a bullet in Zahed’s, and expect to walk out of there alive?”
“With a little help from you guys.”group chuckled. Ramirez’s expression remained. “Boss, I think it’s crazy.”
“Couple other things,” I said. “Higher’s planning aoffensive to sweep through Sangsar. They’re using’s capture as an excuse. It’ll take them a couple ofto work out the logistics, so we need to drag ouron Freddy’s rescue...”
“Hey,” Treehorn began, throwing up his hands. “Ino problem with that, since that punk wants to burnall.”
“All right. Let’s go over the maps, plan the detona-points, and be ready to roll for tonight.”call came in while I was finishing up dinner in thehall. I remember stepping out there, looking at thehaloed by the setting sun, and thinking, Thisit. This is the death call.was a very long walk to the comm center.was feeling numb by the time they guided me overthe cubicle, and my brother’s voice sounded strangely.
GH OS T RE CON
“Hello, Scott, this is your brother Nicholas.”was always so formal, so well educated and schol-. He always talked about being articulate. I didn’thim articulate at that moment. I wanted him sob-.
“Hey, Nick.” My voice was already cracking.
“Dad passed away about an hour ago.”
“Okay.”
“Can you come home? We can delay the funeral for, but I’ll need to know as soon as possible.”I could answer him, a commotion behind memy attention. I told him to hang on.group of officers and NCOs was gathered around ascreen, where a videotape was being played on the Alnetwork.was Fred Warris, dressed like a Taliban and sit-cross-legged with a group of Taliban fighters stand-behind him. I couldn’t hear what he was saying, butdidn’t matter.told Nick I’d call him back. I drifted outside like aand just stood near the door. I closed my eyesthought of my father’s workshop, filled with thescent of sawdust. And I pictured his handmadepropped up on those sawhorses. I was also certain’d left detailed instructions about his funeral.could take the emergency leave. Just bail out on allbullshit. Maybe not even come back. Maybe just goand let them arrest me. I was entertaining everythought I could, thinking of ways to self-destructhold back the tears.
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father had taught me how to be a man. I owedeverything. He was gone.don’t know how long I was standing there whenand the XO rushed up and Harruck just lookedme. “Have you heard? They put Warris on TV!”terms for Warris’s release, presented by the manin the video, were quite simple: Stop all construc-in Senjaray. Pull the U.S. Army company out. Payequivalent of five hundred thousand American dol-. Release nearly a dozen captured Taliban fighters and.was sitting in the comm center on a conference videowith General Keating, Lieutenant Colonel Gordon,Harruck’s battalion commander.
“We’re not going to negotiate with these bastards,”Keating. “And I’m going to make sure we step uptimetable. I want a full-scale raid to happen withinnext seven days. I want to make that happen. I don’twhat it takes.”just shrugged.’s boss was a yes man.shook my head in disgust.
“Mitchell, you got a problem with all this?”
“Sir, you told me I wouldn’t have any air support formission, and unless that’s changed, we’ll be movingmuch too slowly with a large force. Zahed’s got spiesall over this district. He’ll see our ground forcesin, and he’ll be out of there long before they
GH OS T RE CON. You won’t get him, and I doubt you’ll get Warris.need to be dropped by chopper. Shock and awe.’s the only way it’ll work.”
“I’d have to agree with Mitchell,” said Harruck. “We’t afford to blow this. We can’t afford any counterat-down here. We’re making great progress so far.”sat there, debating whether I should tell them aboutand my plan to have a face-to-face meeting with. Part of me considered the idea that if I managedbring in the guy alive, I’d be a hero and they couldoff the whole offensive and save the taxpayers a lot of. The other part of me, the realist, said, no, thatwouldn’t happen; the offensive would go onKeating was very upset now, and the old manhave his blood. So nabbing Zahed wouldn’t affectoutcome.I was intrigued by the idea of talking to Zahed.I was suicidal, but the fat man had caused sotrouble in the area, created so many headaches, thatjust wouldn’t be satisfied until I met him in the flesh.if I presented that cup of soup to “the commit-,” they’d all want to pee in it, thinking it’d taste bet-. A crude but accurate metaphor., I quipped to myself, we should change ourto Rogue Recon.I realized once again that if I didn’t tell themI had in mind, we’d be digging ourselves deeper. So I just took a breath and spilled the beans:
“Gentlemen, I’m in the process of setting up a meet-with Zahed.”
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“Are you serious, Mitchell?” asked Keating.
“Yes, General, I am. One of my contacts in the villagefor the water man, who wants me to kill Zahed.contact has a cousin who works for the fat man him-. Let me go in there and talk to them.”
“No, not you, Mitchell,” snapped Harruck. “We’llin a professional negotiator.”started laughing. “I’ve got the translator, and’re setting me up as an opium smuggler, so once Iin there, we’ll spring the trap on Zahed. There won’tany negotiations.”
“Now that sounds like a plan,” said Keating. “We don’taround and chat while they’re about to chop the headan American soldier. What do you need, Mitchell?”faced Harruck and the others on their screens. “Ineed to be left alone so I can do my job, sir. And Ievac when the fireworks begin.”was shaking his head. “General, with all due, sir, don’t you think an ambush operation likecan do more harm than good? If Mitchell fails,’ll behead Warris on TV, and they’ll all be gonewe can launch our offensive. It’s a lose-lose, if youme.”
“We didn’t ask you, Captain. And Mitchell will not.”looked at me.gave him a curt nod. “My team is heading up into thetonight. There’s a small cave network they’llto use to get down into the valley and attack the schoolpolice station. We’re going to blow it up.”
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“Maybe we should delay that operation until youwith Zahed,” said Gordon.
“Colonel, I’d prefer to take care of that first.” I gavean emphatic look.
“All right, Captain, understood.”wanted to blow the caves first in case I didn’t makeback. Maybe I was growing a soft heart, but I keptAnderson standing out there with those con-workers and those school kids and all of themunder a hail of bullets. The cave network, like thewe’d blown, was an avenue of approach that neededbe eliminated.the meeting, Harruck pulled me aside and said,
“I’ll have a Bradley and rifle squad ready for you.”softened my tone. “Thanks.”
“I’m sorry, Scott, but this is, as far as I’m concerned,beginning of the end for you.”
“Why’s that?”
“If you do get that meeting with Zahed, I don’t think’ll come back. I think you’re making a huge mistake.don’t know what this is about... your ego... you try-to prove something to higher. You should’ve been.”
“And that’s the difference between you and me.”
“Oh, yeah?”
“Yeah. I’ve got faith in that fat old bastard.”
“Zahed?”
“Yeah.”
“Why?”
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“Because I’ve got something he wants—all that waterthe new well. He’s been cut off. He won’t like it.”
“So what you’re saying is you aregoing to negotiatehim.”
“Not exactly...”grinned because I couldn’t believe I’d used those, but I had.
WENTYan hour before we were set to leave on the demo, Harruck came out to our billet, and the expres-on his face didn’t look promising. The guys groaned,the mission was off and that higher had morecorrect plans in mind.it turned out that my sister had notified the Armymy father’s passing. I wasn’t going to say anything,even to the team.
“Scott, I’m very sorry to hear about your father.” Heexplained how he’d heard.
“It’s all right. Thanks.”
“You should have told us. You need to go home. Youto pay your respects.”
“Would that make it easier for you?”
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tensed, glanced away a moment, then faced me.
“Forget all this bullshit. I’m talking to you as a friend.”
“I thought our friendship was over.”
“I’m trying to keep this professional. Not personal.”couldn’t repress my sigh of disgust. “Good luckthat. Well, thanks for coming out, then.”
“So, you’re not taking a leave?”snorted. “I e-mailed my brother. I’ve already toldI can’t come.”
“You’re putting this in front of your father’s funeral?you sure? Are you sure you won’t regret this for theof your life?”
“Simon, I lost a guy here. I’ve got another guy whocaptured. One of your men got killed while up thereme. I’ve got a young captain trying to help a village.just can’t walk away now. I won’t regret it. My family. My dad would understand.”took a deep breath, gave a curt nod. “All right.luck, then.”’d missed more births, birthdays, anniversaries, holi-, and even funerals than I could remember. It didn’tany easier. In fact, it got harder, and every time Ito my brothers or my sister on the phone, I had tomyself that the life I’d chosen was the right onethe distance between me and “the real world”larger every year.yes, I’d lied to Harruck. My brothers and sisternot understand. They would never tell me, but Isee it in their eyes, quite clearly. My sister onceme that I never did anything for myself. That wasn’t
GH OS T RE CON. But as I stood there, watching Harruck go, I’t help but resent some of the sacrifices, and I sur-to the guilt of not attending my father’s funeralyes, I’d put my job first. I’d given a lot to the, to the Ghosts, but missing Dad’s funeral...that was too much.hitched a ride aboard one of the supply Chinooks,we had that pilot drop us off about a kilometer eastthe mountains. We set down in a well-protected valleyfar from our FARP (Forward Arming and Resupply), used by gunships, Blackhawks, and Chinooks, so our bird was not a curious sight in that zone.would hike in with less chance of being detected byfighters posted along cliffs that overlooked the. Their gazes would be trained on the more obvi-lines of approach, and we’d be coming up on their.and I wore the two Cross-Coms so we coulddetect friend from foe, but the others were blindof the last HER F gun blast, so our Alpha andteams would need to stick together. Treehorn, ourman Charlie “team” and sniper, would be postedthe main exit tunnel we’d chosen, ready to pickanyone who pursued us. We chose not to wear bodyto move more swiftly through the tunnels. Again,plan was to avoid all enemy contact., that was the plan. Would it survive the firstcontact? Of course not.
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remarkably cool breeze tugged at our turbans and, and if you spotted us hiking along the ridges,would swear we were drug smugglers or Taliban.was more quiet than usual, but I think hemy business-as-usual attitude, even if it wasdisguise. The mission took priority. We both knew.I would still keep a sharp eye on him. He led Jen-, Hume, and Brown, and I’d told Brown in privatebecause Joey wasn’t feeling good I wanted him toafter the sergeant. He said he would.kept Smith and Nolan close, and as we approachedfirst cave entrance after about sixty minutes of rug-and slow climbing, I sent off Bravo team to the sec-entrance, about a quarter kilometer west of ourslocated about two hundred meters higher up the. The caves and adjoining tunnels were roughlylike two letter Ys attached at their bases, withof entrances on either side of the mountain. Whenteam got into the first tunnel and reached the cavewhere Warris had been cut off, our lights revealed apassage dug through the debris.
“Ghost Lead, this is Treehorn. I’m in position, over.”
“Roger that. What do you got out there?”
“Nothing. Not even any guards. Weird.”
“All right, hang on.”gestured for Smith and Nolan to start planting theset of charges, while I crept off farther down the, toward the starlight at the end of the jaggedin the rock. I paused at the edge and stole a look
GH OS T RE CONthe valley below. Sangsar lay in the distance, a fewflickering, the majority of the homes blanketed inshadows.was down there, somewhere, perhaps in somebasement, being questioned, having battery cablesto his genitalia, having insects shoved in his. Was he man enough to keep his mouth shut? Waswilling to die for his country? Had I taught him?grinned over a strange thought. Maybe his hatredme would help keep him alive. He’d tell himself, Ito survive this so I can burn the bastard responsible. Ithat. And even wondered, were I to rescue, if he would change his mind, keep quiet, tell mewas his thank-you for pulling him out of hell. But, the world was hardly that simple, and Warris’s moralground was pretty damned high. Rescue or not,’d want to hang me.
“Ghost Lead, this is Blue Six, in position, over.”
“Roger that, Blue Six, stand by,” I told the Bradley. Harruck had come through and our ridewas waiting.slipped just outside the cave and pulled up the satel-imagery in my HUD. The monocle covering one ofeyes flashed as the data came through.yellow lines that represented the series of cavestunnels moved through a wireframe image of thechain. The diamonds indicating Bravo teamon and off, and the signal grew weaker thethey moved. That I even got some signal was
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. So far, no red diamonds within the moun-or outside.Zahed just called back all of his guards? Wereall just tired? Why had they left the tunnels com-unprotected?hackles began to rise, and that smell I detectednot the dampness of the tunnel but an ambush.
“Ghost Team, this is Ghost Lead. I don’t like this.defenses here. Plant your charges and let’s get theout as fast as we can.”
“Roger that,” said Ramirez.was beginning to lose my breath. Something was, but I couldn’t put my finger on it. I ran down the, back to where Smith and Nolan were working.
“Are we set?”looked up at me. “Remotes good to go. Needfinish up at the entrance where you just were.”
“All right, let’s go,” I said.
“Ghost Lead, this is Ramirez! I just got out of my. Scanning the village now. They got mortarsetting up just outside the wall. They got tippedagain!”as we reached our exit, a shell hit the mountainabove us, the roar deafening, a landslide of rock andbeginning to plummet. “Back inside! Ghost Team!back! Fall back!”more shells struck the mountainside, the groundbeneath our feet, the ceiling cracking here and. The bastards would seal up the caves for us—butplan was, of course, to bury us alive.
GH OS T RE CON
“Ghost Lead, this is Treehorn! The Bradley has comeattack. I don’t know where they came from! They’ve been buried in the sand the entire time! Theyat least twenty guys down there! More in the moun-coming down. Should I engage?”
“Negative, negative! Don’t give up your position yet!”cried.’d said more were coming down from the moun-. Why hadn’t the satellite picked them up and feddata into my Cross-Com? Was it just interferencethe terrain?gritted my teeth and led Nolan and Smith back tomain tunnel and exit. As we neared the intersectionthe cave-in had occurred, shouting echoed, and Imyself against the side wall, with the guys justme, then rolled to the left, my rifle at the ready,two Taliban fighters came through the newly dugthrough the cave-in. I gunned both of thembefore I could finish taking a breath.hit the ground—and so did a grenade tossed atfrom their comrades on the other side.I turned back, I raised my palm, screaming for theto hit the deck. We all started toward the floor asgrenade exploded behind us, the concussion echo-, and what sounded like a million tiny rock fragmentsmy clothes—as I crashed onto my belly.terrible and expected ringing in my ears came on, and when I looked up, I couldn’t see anything.lost my breath. I thought maybe I’d died, but then I
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my turban had fallen down across my face. Iit up, rose, and found hands pulling me tofeet.
“You okay?” Smith asked, his angular face creased deeplyworry. I couldn’t hear him; I’d just read his lips.indicated that my ears were ringing. He nodded andthe same thing. Nolan was next to him, wav-us onward as he drew a grenade from the web gearbeneath his shirt. He tossed the grenade downintersecting hall, and we all bolted ahead as the sec-ticked by and the grenade exploded, just as wethe more narrow exit.two Taliban fighters rolled toward us, rushing inoutside.was on point and opened up on them, but’d started firing as well, their rounds ricocheting offceiling just past us. Smith and I, caught in the back,no choice but to drop away. We couldn’t fire within our way.gunfire was strangely muffled but growingas my hearing began to return.arms flailing, the two fighters fell on top of each.turned back to me, his eyes wide.he just collapsed himself.
“Cover us!” I shouted to Smith, then rose and rushedNolan. I slowly rolled him over onto his back. Heokay. I began to pull back his shirt, and then Ithem, one near his shoulder, and one much, near his heart. Nolan’s trademark spectacles had
GH OS T RE CONknocked to the side of his head, and he was blink-hard, trying to see.blood was gushing now as he struggled for, and I struggled to get past his web gear.
“In my pack, I got some big four-by-four gauze,” hebetween gasps.ripped off my shemaghand shoved it beneath thegear and applied pressure. My first instinct was toon the Cross-Com and shout, “Nolan, got a man!”
“Captain, tell John not to feel bad. Tell ’em we’reforever. Okay?”
“I will, Alex,” I said, applying more pressure as heto shiver violently.was referring to John Hume; they’d becomefriends, fighting hard and playing hard. Guys wouldthem about being “too close,” but they were morebrothers. I knew losing Nolan would crush Hume.him., who was up near the exit, suddenly duckedinside as gunfire ripped across the stone where he’dstanding. “We are so pinned down here.”was about to answer when another mortar roundfar down the tunnel, and the ground shook.back there, another cave-in was happening,rocks and dirt streaming and hissing, and not fivelater a wall of thick dust rolled through the tun-toward us.I looked down again, Nolan was not moving. Ihis neck for a pulse. That round had, indeed,
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his heart, and when I checked the side of his, it was soaked thick with blood.resounded up the tunnel, and suddenlythe dust came a figure. I snatched up my rifle,aim, and held my breath.
“Hold fire!” came a familiar voice. The figure tuggedhis shemagh. Ramirez. He glanced over his shoul-. “Come on! We’ve linked up with the Captain!”the others rushed up behind him, Hume spottedlying at my side and rushed to him.
“Alex!”
“He’s gone,” I said evenly.
“Aw, no,” Hume cried. “No, no, no.”just a moment—perhaps only three seconds—westood there, frozen, staring down at Hume and, no sound, no movement, just the burning imageour fallen brother, and then—
“Ghost Lead, this is Treehorn, they got RPGs mov-in on the Bradley. Permission to open fire!”shuddered back to reality. “Negative, hold fire! Dogive up your position.” I switched channels to speakthe Bradley commander. “Blue Six, this is Ghost, over.”waited, called again, nothing. Couldn’t even warnguy and his squad. The vehicle’s big machine gunalready drumming as several more booms strucksilenced it.
“They got the gunner!” shouted Treehorn. “Theythe gunner! They’re swarming the Bradley. Swarm-it now!”
GH OS T RE CONmore shells struck the mountain, and the ceilingto crack right near my head.
“I’m taking him out of here,” said Hume, his eyesburning.
“You got it,” I answered. “Treehorn? Get set! We’reout!”
WENTY-ONENolan was a smart-aleck kid from the streets ofwho’d become a senior medical sergeant withGhosts. He often looked like a geek, but when hehis mouth, wow, he was all attitude fueled by ancuriosity and great intellect. He was even amember. Still, there were times when he coulda switch and be the most caring and sympatheticon our team. The last time we were in Afghan-, I’d seen him spend hours with sick villagers. He’dask the same question: “Are your animals sick,?” When you operated in third-world countries andbecame ill, you could sometimes trace the prob-back to their livestock.the letter to Matt Beasley’s family still fresh on
GH OS T RE CONmind, I couldn’t believe I had to write another one.wasn’t used to losing operators, especially two on amission.’d been all over the world, working on operationsmore taxing than this one. And while they kept tell-me this situation was complicated, on the surface itmuch safer when compared to the operation I’din China, penetrating deep into the heart of theto take out a cabal of rogue generals. Hell, we’da hundred chances to be captured or killed and hadpast every one of them.we’d been charged with nabbing one fat-ass ter-, and I’d already lost two good men, some of thevaluable personnel in the U.S. Army. I was alreadyburned out, like a has-been operator who’d got-his men killed.my own eyes burning, we rushed outside theand I ordered the guys to set off the charges.went down on wireless detonators, and the mul-booms echoed, as though someone were kickinga massive drum set that clattered and crashed off astage. I could only hope our charges had swallowedof the insurgents inside.led Alpha team along a rocky path that descendedto our left. Ramirez and his team would take theto the right. I didn’t want us together in case theon this side of the mountains had mortars, too.to be perfectly honest, it was convenient to haveaway so I didn’t need to watch my back.fire arced like fleeing fireflies, and two cone-shaped
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rose skyward as though the Taliban hada massive bonfire to celebrate their victory overinfidels.
“All right, Treehorn, cut it loose!” I ordered.sniper’s gun boomed, and his rounds came downGod’s hammer, decisive, deadly, dismembering alltheir path.the Taliban were quick to answer.cut a line so close to Hume that he trippedfell forward with Nolan’s body draped over his back.rushed to help him back to his feet, and that wasmuzzles flashed from the ridgeline about fiftyabove.raised my rifle as the red diamonds appeared in myto help me lock onto the four targets.camera automatically zoomed in on one fightera HER F gun toward me—and that was when mywent dead.might’ve cursed. Either way, the HER F blast wascue to open fire, and Smith joined me. We drilledbastards back toward the wall, while Hume gotdown onto the lower portion of the path. I wasn’tif we’d hit any of them, but we’d bought some time.ceased fire, tugged free a smoke grenade, thenit up there a second before we both double-timedHume.’s gun spoke again. And then again. He wasreaper. His words were thunder.twenty meters east of the now-burning Brad-, an insurgent lay on his belly, directing machine gun
GH OS T RE CONup near Treehorn, who returned fire, hitting the guy.gun went silent—but only for a few seconds as thatwas replaced by another, who quickly resumedTreehorn.
“Cover Hume. Get down the rocks and hold there,”ordered Smith. He nodded and hustled off.jogged back up the path toward Treehorn’s perchhigher along the ridge.took one last shot, then bolted up and joined me.waved him back along the path, and then... off to my, about twenty meters up... a curious sight: anotherentrance. It must’ve been covered up by the Tal-because the rocks nearby appeared freshly shakenby the mortars and our C-4 charges.we came under a vicious wave of gunfire thatcertain to hit us, I rushed up toward the tunnelpractically threw myself inside.was a second behind me, breathless, curs-, literally foaming at the mouth with exertion.and machine gun fire stitched along the entrance,us to sneak back out and return fire. That was oneI would not take. The machine gunner seemed to behis initials on the rock face.got on the regular radio, found it dead, and realizedmaybe this time the HERF gun had managed to fry it,. But then I also noticed the microphone had taken a hit.was one lucky man—very close call. That bullet would’vemy side, perhaps even penetrated my spine.directed his light to the tunnel behind us.
“Whoa...”
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surprise was not unwarranted.uneven intestine of rock swept outward andslowly down. It appeared to go much longer andthan any of the others we’d seen, and I was sud-torn between venturing down to see where it wentmaking a break back outside to link up with the. The machine gun fire had just died off. The sec-rally point would be just past the Bradley’s position,an old dried-up riverbed. Everyone knew it. IRamirez would be taking Bravo team there.I’d left Smith to look after Hume, who was carry-Nolan on his back, and those guys would need help.
“What do you want to do, Captain?”pulled out a brick of C-4 from my pack. “Man, weto see where this goes, but we can’t do it right now.’s seal it up behind us and get back outside.”
“Wait a second. Listen,” he said.cries echoed up toward us.pricked up my ears again. “Sounds like... a kid...”
“I know. What the hell?”remembered the girl we’d found during our firstraid. And though I couldn’t bear the thought ofchildren being tortured, we had to leave.flashed behind us, and as I turned, mywent up reflexively against the blast. The air whooshedus, and only then did I realize I was being cata-back into the tunnel. The entrance had beendead-on by an RPG. The starlight shining beyondblack, and I slammed into the floor, shielding myfrom the rocks and dirt dropping all around me.
GH OS T RE CON, a strange silence, the sifting of sand, my breath-, the dull echo in my head—the cave roof a few meters ahead came down,though a massive boot had stomped on us. I scrambledlike a crab and bumped into Treehorn, who hadturned on his penlight, the beam struggling to pen-the thick cloud of dust. I winced and blinked.
“You okay, boss?” cried Treehorn.
“I’m good.”
“They blew the goddamned exit!”
“Plan B,” I finally gasped out. “Back on our feet.on, buddy...” I began choking and coughing ondust.got to our feet, his light shining down the tunnel,joining his a few seconds later.stole a look back. The tunnel behind us had com-collapsed. It would take a half a day or more forto dig ourselves out.tried to stifle my coughing and gestured for Tree-to keep his light low and to move slowly, quietly.shadows shifted across the cool brown stone,a faint glimmer seemed to join our light, the flicker-of candles or a lantern, not a flashlight, I knew.paused, looked back, put a finger to his lips.killed our lights and listened.a moment, I think I held my breath.cries we’d heard earlier were gone, replaced nowfootsteps, barely discernible but there. I cocked a, motioning for Treehorn to get behind me. I gin-slipped free the bowie knife from my calf sheath.
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that, he did likewise, his own blade coatedso as not to reflect any light. We held our position,, but our curious tunnel guest still seemedto us.he rounded the corner, I slid behind him, grabbedmouth with one hand and, with a reverse grip,my blade deep into his heart. I felt his grimacemy fingers, the hair of his thick beard scratch-like a steel wool pad. The forefinger and thumb onknife hand grew damp, and after a moment more he, then finally grew limp. I lowered him to the. The guy had been holding a penlight, and Tree-picked it up, shined it into the guy’s face.was no one. Just another Taliban guy, wrong place,time. We took his rifle, ammo, and light, then moved, the tunnel growing slightly wider, the floor heavily traf-by boot prints. Voices grew louder ahead, and I froze.language was not Pashto but Chinese.hunkered down, edged forward toward where theopened up into a wider cave illuminated by atone lantern I could see sitting on the floor near the. Behind the lantern was a waist-high stack of opium, with presumably many more behind it.depression in the wall gave us a little cover, and weas ahead, Chinese men dressed like Talibanloaded the bricks into packs they threw overshoulders. So Bronco’s Chinese connection was a, and I wasn’t very surprised by that; however, to findChinese themselves taking part in the grunt work ofwas interesting.
GH OS T RE CONwere three of them, their backpacks bulging asleft the cave, their flashlights dancing across theuntil the exit tunnel darkened.waited a moment more, then followed, shiftingstacks of empty wooden crates within which thehad been stored.was right at my shoulder, panting, and oncestarted farther into the adjoining tunnel, I flicked onflashlight because it’d grown so dark my eyes couldlonger adjust.in the distance came the continued rattlegunfire, but the heavy mortars had ceased. We reachedT-shaped intersection. To the left another long tunnel.the right a shorter one with a wooden ladder leaningthe wall. I raised my chin to Treehorn, pointed.shifted in front of me, rifle at the ready. I pushedpenlight close to my hip, darkening most of the.neared the ladder. I was holding my breath again.took another step farther, looked up—then he whirled back, his face creased tightly inas a salvo of gunfire rained straight down and heme backward, knocking me onto my rump. Wewent down as yet another volley dug deeply intoearth.imagined a grenade dropping to the foot of the lad-, and my imagination drove me onto my feet, andclambered up behind me. I stole a look backsaw the ladder being hoisted up and away. We racedto the intersection and moved into the other tunnel.
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