“You’re bluffing. I got nothing.”eyes narrowed in fury, and he turned toand began screaming. I didn’t catch very much,he’d said something about Bronco being the fool.three of them backed toward the car.
“Don’t move,” I warned them.
“We have to leave,” said Mike. “You have no ideaimportant this is or the extent of this operation.”craned my head at the sound of multiple helicopterechoing off the mountains. We couldn’t see them, but they were coming... and more gunfire echoedthe hills. Harruck had committed some forces all
GH OS T RE CON, and I wondered if the Predator controller hadbeen granted permission to unleash his bombs.
“Tell Zahed I’m taking him into custody,” I told.old spook shook his head. “Joe, you’re wastingtime. If you take him in, I’ll get him released—allyour people haven’t even contacted you yet.a joke.”raised my pistol even higher and began to lose my. Bronco was right. It wasall just a game. I couldin Zahed, and yes, they probably would get him. Nothing would change.satellite phone tucked into my back pocket beganring.
“So I guess you know the rest,” I tell Blaisdell, as sheme with those lawyer eyes flashing above theof her glasses.glances down at my report. “Yes, it’s all here.” She. “I don’t want you to have any unreasonable hope.admitted what you did right here. In addition to thecharge, they’re going for dereliction of duty...to keep yourself fully apprised of a fluid tactical... conduct unbecoming an officer.”
“What was I supposed to do? Lie? I’ve done enoughthat already. And there were witnesses.”
“Let me ask you. Do you think what you did solved?”
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take a deep breath and look away. “I don’t know. Idon’t know.”
“The report tells me what you did. It doesn’t say howfeel about it.”
“How do you think I feel? Ready for a party? Whythat even matter?”
“Because I’m trying to see what kind of an emotionalI can make. Unless somebody decides to take a huge, to go out on a limb for you, then like I said, I don’tyou to have any unreasonable hope at this point.”
“Unreasonable hope? Jesus Christ, what do you peo-expect from me?”
“Captain. Calm down. I’m still recording, and I’dyou to go back and finish the story. If there’s any-you might’ve left out of the report, anything elsecan remember that you think might help, you havetell me right now...”served with a guy named Foyte, a good captain whoup getting killed in the Philippines. I was hissergeant, and he used to give me all kinds of adviceleadership. He was a really smart guy, best-readI’d ever met. He could rattle off quotes he’d memo-about war and politics. He always had somethingto say. When he talked, we listened. One thing heme stuck: If you live by your decisions, then youdecided to really live.as I stood there, staring into the smug faces of the
GH OS T RE CONCentral Intelligence Assholes, and looking at Mul-Mohammed Zahed, a bloated bastard who figuredin a few seconds I’d surrender to the futility of war,thought of Beasley and Nolan; of my father’s funeral;of all the little girls we’d just freed in the tunnel. Iof Hila, lying there, bleeding, waiting for me,only person she had left in the world. And I imaginedthe other people who would be infected by Zahed’s, by the poison he would continue to spread through-the country, even as one of our own agencies sup-him because they couldn’t see that the cure wasthan the poison.did I feelabout that?desperately loved my country and my job. If I justmy back on the situation because I was “little,” then I was no better than them.from the first helicopter panned across the vil-wall behind us, the whomping now louder, thegunfire lifting up from the ground.satellite phone kept ringing. I figured it was BrownRamirez, so I ignored it.roar came from the troops somewhere out there,a half dozen RPGs screamed up toward the chopper,pilot banked suddenly away from the incoming.began to smile. Even his teeth had been whit-. The CIA had pampered his ass, all right.was about to say something. Mike had hison the helicopter.trigger came down more easily than I had antici-
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, and my round struck Zahed in the forehead, slightlycenter. His head snapped back and he crashed back intoMercedes and slid down to the ground, the bloodglistening across the car’s roof.and Mike reacted instantly, drawing their.shot Bronco first, then Mike.I didn’t kill them. I shot them in the legs, knock-them off their feet as I whirled and sprinted backthe shattered window. My phone had stopped.
“You’re going down for this, Joe! You have no ideayou’ve done! No idea!”was a lot of cursing involved—by both of us—suffice it to say I ignored them and climbed backthe bedroom, where Hila lay motionless.was panting, shaking her hands, gently moving her. I panicked, checked her neck for a carotid pulse.God. She was alive but unconscious. I dug theCom out of my pocket, activated it, changed theon my pistol. I gently scooped up Hila, slidover my shoulder, then started out of the room, myhand trembling.
“Predator Control, this is Ghost Lead, over.”box opened in my HUD. “Where you been, Ghost?”
“Busy.”
“CAS units moving into your area, over.”
“Got ’em. Can you lock onto my location?
GH OS T RE CON
“I’ve got it.”
“Good. I need Hellfires right on my head. Every-you got. There are no civilians here. I repeat, no. We got a weapons and opium cache in the. I want it taken out, over.”
“Roger that, Ghost Lead. I still have no authoriza-for fires at this time, over.”
“I understand, buddy. Tell you what. Give me ten min-, and then you make your decision—and live by it...”
“Roger that, Ghost Lead.”a few hundred Taliban fighters to defend the, I had a bad feeling that they’d manage to eitheror simply secure all those weapons and opium.to take the cache out of the picture—blow it allto Allah. I wasn’t sure how committed Harruck’sAir Support was, either.had considered for the better part of two secondsHila straight outside and trying to link up withof the choppers, but the place still swarmed with. I’d rather take them out one or two at a time intunnels. So I carried her back to the basement andthe stairs.
“Ghost Lead, this is Predator Control. I’ve just receivedoverride order. I have clearance to fire. But I will losetarget in four minutes, fifteen seconds, over.”
“Let the clock tick,” I told him. “But don’t miss your. I’m getting the hell out of here.”
“Roger that, Ghost Lead. Godspeed.”nearly fell down the staircase near the bottom,my balance, then turned toward the tunnel at
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far end. Judging from the sounds above, most of thewere engaging the choppers or putting fire onmountainside. I didn’t expect to encounter muchin the tunnel, so when I cleared the rock sec-and ducked a bit lower to enter the drainage pipe, Iat the sound of voices.doused the penlight in my other hand.shone ahead. I set Hila down. I flicked theback on., no. There was a long line of guys, maybe twenty,more, coming right at us.saw them.saw me.screamed.reached into my web gear and produced a grenade.screamed again.pulled the pin and pitched the grenade far down the, then threw myself over Hila as three, two—satellite phone started ringing again..cupped my ears as the grenade went off with a blind-flash and rush of air, as the men shrieked now, and Irose, damning my ringing phone to hell, andsalvo after salvo through the smoke and gleam-debris.I screamed ahead, told them to run away or die,think. Something pretty close.pipe grew very quiet, save for my ringing phone.cursed, pulled it from my pocket, and realized it’dGeneral Keating on the line.
GH OS T RE CON, damn. I’d get with the old man later. I switchedthe phone, picked up Hila, and eased my way for-as far ahead, footfalls sounded, though no flash-lifted my way. I neared the area of the explosion,how the concrete had been blasted apart, then real-the earth above had nothing to support it. Belowa half dozen men shredded into bloody heaps.reached up with my finger to check the stability ofceiling, and that was when the entire section of earthdown on top of me. It all happened so fast that I’t realize how much dirt had fallen until I tried tomy legs. Trapped. I managed to bring up one armbrush it from my face. I spit dirt, then glanced up...there it was about a meter above, an open hole andstars beyond. The gunfire popped and cracked, andmortars exploded somewhere beyond.started writhing back and forth, trying to free, when I heard more voices. I wasn’t sure whichof the tunnel they were coming from. I began to, shoving my arm more violently and trying to. The earth to my right began to give away, and sud-I fell sideways and out of the pile, sliding down aof dirt that was spreading to Hila.
“Ghost Lead, this is Predator Control. Thirty sec-, and you are still too close to the drop zone, over.”
“Roger that,” I said, then coughed. “I’m moving. You just do your job!”
“Mitchell, this is Keating,” called the general asvideo box opened in my HUD. “I’ve been try-to get a hold of you, son! Your orders have changed!”
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I ripped the Cross-com off my head and turned it. It was a little late for that shit.passage through the pipe was completely blocked.thought if I could get us up on top of the pile, I mightable to push Hila through the hole and up top.I had no idea what we’d find up there. I neededchance a look for myself. I climbed back up, pushinginto the dirt, and up through the hole until myjutted out. I was facing the mountainside, muzzledancing across the ridgelines. I turned around tothe village and saw at least forty Taliban fightersdirectly toward me running behind a pair oftrucks with fifty-calibers mounted on the back,guns spewing rounds.then, from somewhere behind me came the hissrockets, and just as I turned my head, I saw an Apacheoverhead and the pickup trucks explode in greatnot thirty meters from my head.ducked back into the hole. The Predator controllerabout to drop his bombs. I hustled down andHila. I moved her higher across the dirt moundtoward our escape hole. I shifted around to try toher from the blast, then took two long breathslistened for the first impact.
Ytucked in as tightly as I could, and the next few sec-felt like a lifetime.a moment, I thought the controller had changedmind or been ordered to abort.then, just as my doubts were beginning to take, twin detonations, somewhat muffled at first, origi-from behind us, well off into the basement. Notheartbeats later came a roar unlike anything I’dheard, followed by a massive tremor ripping throughground.the earthquake continued, a wave of intense heatthrough the tunnel behind me, and I gasped anddragging Hila higher toward the hole, fearingall the air would be consumed before we escaped.
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I moved farther up was the only thing that saved usa wave of fire that rushed through the pipe. I keptand dragging her higher, my boots slipping ondirt, as dozens of smaller explosions began to boom,I knew that was all the ammunition beginning tooff. Then came a horrible stench as the opiumto burn. My eyes filled with tears, and for a fewI thought I’d pass out before someone grabbedarm and began pulling me up.was screaming, but I couldn’t identify anyonethe cracking and booming from below, as well asbooming from the village as I was suddenly hoistedof the hole and plopped down in the sand.blinked hard, saw Brown and Smith there, withdigging back into the hole and pulling out Hila.was wearing the Cross-Com I’d given to Ramirez.us, the helicopters were still engaging thefighters on the ground, but most of them wereback toward the walls., at least one machine gunner set up behindjingle truck opened fire, and we all hit the deck abefore the Apache gunship whirled around anda massive barrage of fire that not only torethe gunner but began to shred the truck itself.
“I’ve got her,” yelled Smith, scooping up Hila andtoward the mountainside. “The tunnel’s up! Let’s go!”pulled me back up. “We locked onto your chipsoon as you got close to the top. You okay?”
“More than okay. I got Zahed.”
GH OS T RE CONwas all pearly whites. “Hoo-ah! Mission com-, baby. Let’s roll!”three of us ran back toward the hills, with thecovering our exit. Brown was in direct contactthem, and he said that he’d sent the others offtwo rifle squads that had come up through the. They were bringing back one Bradley to pick upgirls. We took a tunnel I hadn’t seen before, whichsaid led up to one of the mountain passes.we neared the exit and emerged onto the dirt road,looked down toward Senjaray and saw the Bradleyaway. The girls we’d rescued were, I later learned,onboard.were almost home.
“Hold up,” I said, as we crossed around some boul-. We squatted down. “We need to get her out of herethan this.” I looked to Brown. “Can we get ato pick her up?”
“I’m on it. But we’ll still have to get down to the val-over there.”
“All right.” I dug into my pocket, switched on myphone, and saw there was a message from Gen-Keating. I took a deep breath, dialed, and listened.my heart sank.
“I repeat, son, we need to pull you off this mission.. Abort. Stand down...”’d said a lot more than that, but those were thewords that meant anything. Bronco hadn’t been.
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that moment, though, I was glad I hadn’t heardmessage, but I wondered whether I would’ve shotanyway, despite the order to stand down.wondered.’d like to think that my experience and honor’ve led me to make the right decision. But theand grim reality were far too powerful to ignore.
“Captain, you don’t look so good,” said Smith.
“The order to stand down came in, but I, uh, I guessmissed it. Zahed’s dead anyway.”
“Good work,” said Brown.
“Ghost Lead, this is Hume, over.”
“Go ahead, John.”
“Jenkins and I got on the Bradley, but we got cut offWarris and Ramirez in the tunnels. We figured’d link up with us down here, but they didn’t show, over.”
“Roger that, we’ll find them.”
“Paul, you get her down there to link up with the?” Brown asked Smith.
“I’m on it.”
“Then I’m with you, Captain, let’s go!”rose and jogged off, back into the tunnel, whilecarried Hila toward the valley.
“I’m afraid of what we’ll find,” said Brown.linked up with another section of tunnels, ones’d already marked with beacons, and we stepped overor five bodies of Taliban fighters.and I spent nearly an hour combing the tunnels.
GH OS T RE CONtracker chips were detected during those momentsI’d slip outside to search for a signal, so we had toboth men were still underground.in disgust, I told Brown we needed to getand see if we couldn’t get a search team in the tun-by morning.
“You think they got captured?”
“I don’t know what to think,” I told him. “But we’t stay up here all night.”hiked down from the mountains and toward the vil-. The firing had all but stopped, and the gunships hadpulled out and were heading toward Kandahar.Brown and I reached the defile, we were met by asight:and Harruck were standing in the smokingof the school, shattered by Taliban mortar fire.once tall walls of the police station, whose roof wasto be constructed, looked like jagged teeth now,more smoke coiling up into the night sky.was crying. Harruck glared and cried,
“Thanks a lot for all your help!”minutes later I was getting my gunshot wound. All the girls had been taken back to the hospitalwell, and they were all staring at me, as if to say thank. Hila had been rushed into surgery.was patting my fresh bandage when Brown cameinto the hut and cried, “Captain! Get out here!’re not going to believe this!”
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rushed away from the nurse and made it outside,Warris was being helped out of a Hummer. He wasand filthy and still reeked. His eyes were bloodshothe just looked at me vaguely as I rushed up to him.
“Fred, where the hell were you?”took a few seconds for him to focus on me. “Theyme down in the valley.”
“Where’s Ramirez?”swallowed. “I, uh, I don’t know.”raised my voice. “What do you mean?”
“I MEAN, I DON’T KNOW! NOW GET OUT OFGODDAMNED FACE!” He shoved me aside andtoward the hospital.grabbed him by the shoulder and spun him around.
“You’re going to talk right now.”
“I’ll talk, all right. No worries about that!”
“Where’s Ramirez?”
“We got separated. I don’t know what happened. Ifor him, and he was gone. That’s all I know.”
“Where is he?”glared at me, then turned and walked away. I startedhim, but Brown grabbed my shoulder. “Don’t...”talked to one of the doctors, who told me Hila wouldthrough just fine. They’d removed the bullet. Thedid take me aside and tell me she’d found evidencerape on all the girls. I explained the situation, and she, as I already knew, that none of the families wouldthese girls back, and if we revealed what had
GH OS T RE CONto them, their fates could take an even sharperfor the worse.
“We’ll see if we can get them to an orphanage,” I. “The woman who’s in charge of the school project,? We’ll see if we can get help from her.”still vowed to find Shilmani and tell him I had got-his daughter out of there. I wanted to tell the manbravely she’d fought and how she’d literally savedlife. I wasn’t sure if that would change anything, butwanted him to know., the fan was dialed up to ten, and the camelwas about to hit it and fly for miles.was ordered to Harruck’s office before I even returnedmy billet.he was finished cursing his head off and suck-down his drink, he looked at me and said, “I hope toyou think this was worth it. At least give me that. At least let me know that you still believe in whatdid, because if you don’t...”
“Zahed needed to die. I’m sorry about the conse-. He’s dead. Maybe things will change here.not.”
“Well, I’m done here. I’m out. That’s a change. You. I lose. We did nothing here. Nothing.”might’ve stolen two hours of sleep before I draggedback up and fought with the guards at the gate,wouldn’t let me and Brown leave the base.
“I have direct orders from the CO. Your team is
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to the base. You’ll have to take that up with the, sir.”did. Harruck was sleeping, but the XO spoke to us.
“Word came down. There are some boys from Kandaharin to talk to you guys.”
“Army Intel?”shook his head. “Spooks.”
“Do you realize what you’ve done?” Bronco screamed,that was the edited version of his question, which inhad contained curses and combinations of curses I’t heard before.and his sidekick had escaped from Sangsar, gottenfor their gunshot wounds, and linked up withsuperiors. The group of four decided they wouldthe hell out of me all morning. I’d grinned atcrutches both Bronco and Mikey had used to getthe room.arms folded over my chest and a bored look onface, I repeated, “I don’t have to talk to you, and I’t. So piss off.”attempted to describe the length and breadththeir operation, and he leaned forward and told meI’d ruined years’ worth of work, murdered an unarmed, and that the agency would see me hang. Blah.. Blah.told them all where to go, then stormed out. They’t hold me. They couldn’t do jack. I went back toand told him I was going to see Shilmani and
GH OS T RE CONif he tried to stop me, I’d have him brought up on.started laughing and just waved me off. His laugh-sounded more unbalanced than cynical.and I caught up with Shilmani at the shacks onoutskirts of town. He was loading water and wouldlook at me as we approached.
“Listen to me, please,” I began. “We got Hila. She’sthe hospital. She’s okay.”froze at the back of his truck and just stood theremoment, his breathing ragged before he began to cry.looked at Brown and turned away. I was choked up. I could barely imagine what Shilmani was going. He had to convince himself that his daughterdirt now because his culture dictated how he should. In fact, if we didn’t get the girls to an orphanagesimply call them “war orphans,” they would all beand sentenced to prison. That’s right. The sys-did not distinguish between victims of rape andwho willingly had relations outside marriage.
“Do you want to see her?” I asked.
“I can’t.”
“You would have been so proud. She fought at my. And she saved my life.”
“Scott, don’t tell me any more. Please...”
“Why don’t you take your family and get the hell outhere? There’s got to be a way out.”
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finally looked at me, backhanded away the tears,said, “This is my life.”late in the day I got called to the comm center andthat General Keating was waiting to speak to me.
“Mitchell, you make it damn near impossible for meget your back when you play it this close to the vest. Ifpresident weren’t distracted by twenty other prob-, I’d be pulling KP in the White House mess.”
“I understand, sir. And I’ve been running an obstaclehere myself.”, I was speaking through my teeth, and thoughhighly respected the man, I wanted to unload on him,. He’d had no idea what I’d just gone through, but I’t about to cry on his shoulder.
“I’m pulling you back to Fort Bragg. I’d advise youlay low but I know you don’t work that way, so once’re back home you’ll be confined to quarters. We’llon a show until JAG takes its best shot or you’re last’s news.”
“Sir, Joey Ramirez is still MIA.”
“I know that, son, and the search will continue. But’ve got Warris running off at the mouth and trying toyour career. I want you out of there.”
“Warris is an asshole. Sir. He’d bitch if you hangedwith a new rope. It’s my word against his.”
“For now, he doesn’t need witnesses, Mitchell. Becausebelieve him.”
GH OS T RE CON
“Sir?”
“Easy, son. I agree. He’s a fool. But I know he’s tell-the truth—because I know you. And your men. Buthim and the CIA, they’re not going to back. I’ve got to deal with it.”
“Where does all this leave me, sir?”
“From where I’m sitting, this operation has become astorm of botched communications. And becausethe political ramifications in Kabul, as well as here,’s out for blood. It’s why they have officers, son.’s got to fall on his sword. Someone will takefall for this mess.”
“And blood flows downhill...”
“It’s Newton’s law, Scott. Simple as that.”closed my eyes and massaged them. “I understand,. For the good of the service...”
“That bastard Zahed needed killing, and you gave ithim. You did a fine job, soldier, no matter what you, no matter what they say.”
“But you still don’t have my back, do you, sir?”took a deep breath, looked torn—broke the connection.dinnertime the team had packed up the billet. Webeing driven to Kandahar, where we’d catch theof many flights back home.’d refused to allow us to participate in the tun-search, but before we left, Harruck sent a man out tome. The guy led me to a small tent behind the
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, the makeshift morgue, where Ramirez laya folding table.’d been shot in the head. Point-blank.
“Oh, dear God,” I said aloud.
“Any other wounds?” I asked one of the other sol-there.
“Nope. Must’ve caught him by surprise.”cursed and rushed out of there.all I could see was Warris raising a rifle to Ramirez’sand pulling the trigger.found the punk lying in his bunk, staring at the ceiling.had no time to get up. I leaned over him and screamed,
“YOU KILLED HIM, YOU RAT BASTARD, DIDN’T? YOU KILLED HIM! YOU KILLED HIM!”guess Brown had seen me running toward Warris’sand had come after me because he burstthe door and rushed over, believing I was goingstrike Warris. He grabbed my wrist and hung on.started cursing and told me I’d lost my mindwhy the hell would he kill Ramirez?
“Because he knew you were going to blow the whistleall of us. And he probably threatened you, didn’t he?told you if you talked, he’d kill you, right?”guilty expression came over Warris, and he tried toit by tightening his lips.
“You killed him!” I repeated.
“Your career is over, Mitchell. It’s all over now. You’renews. Even the Ghosts are a waste. Every other agency,, DoD—the entire alphabet tribe—undermines whatdo. We’re history.”
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“No, you’re history. Count on it!”shoved Brown aside and hustled out of the room. Iback to the billet, wrenched up my duffel, andmy voice to the men. “Let’s get the hell out of here!”we didn’t leave right away. The guys wanted totheir last respects to Ramirez, and they all went overthe hospital and did that. I waited by the Hummerfound myself in an awkward conversation with. Anderson.
“So now you go home, and the next Zahed takes? We have to start from scratch.”
“I don’t know what to tell you.”
“Don’t you even care?”
“I care too much. That’s what’s killing me. That’s’s killing us all.”
weren’t ghosts who returned home. We were zombies.torn. Down three men. Feeling little joy in our “mis-completed.” I spoke briefly with each of the men, andshared my sentiments.Gordon told me that Warris had friends andin high places, which was why his loyaltiesto lean toward regular Army operations, evenhe’d chosen a career in Special Forces. In fact,said that Warris had even written an article pub-in Soldiersmagazine detailing his thoughts aboutdramatic shift in Special Forces operations and mental-, an argument against elitism and what he deemed asprivileges granted to our operators.
GH OS T RE CON, the punk really got a taste of our “special privi-” by spending some time in a hole full of crap.’s how we prima donnas in SF live the high life.one layover, I got a call from Harruck, whome Anderson had placed the girls in a good orphan-, but then the facility had been raided by Talibansaid the girls had been raped and that they were allto face charges. Hila was, of course, among that. Would she spend twenty or more years in jail? I’t know, but Harruck said he had a few ideas. Hesurprised me: “You were wrong about me, Scott.’m not a politician. And I’ll prove it to you.”then, as we were boarding our final flight backFort Bragg, Gordon called again to tell me the spooksgoing for a charge of murder., Mullah Mohammed Zahed wasn’t justTaliban commander in the Zhari district. He waswarlord leader of a network of men—warlords, Tal-leaders, and corrupt public officials—who were parta massive protection racket in the country. It seemedUnited States was paying tens of millions of dollarsthese men to ensure safe passage of supply convoysthe country.imported virtually everything we needed: food,, fuel, and ammo, and we did most of it by roadPakistan or Central Asia to hubs at Bagram airnorth of Kabul and the air base at Kandahar. From, local Afghan contractors took over, and the pow-that be thought hiring local security was a brilliantso we could promote entrepreneurship. Indeed, it
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struck me as curious when local Afghan trucksup at the FOB loaded with our military supplies.’d assumed the Chinooks had brought in everything,I was wrong.... Zahed was indirectly being paid by the Unitedto provide protection to the trucks delivering sup-to our base, even though we were his mortal enemies.an opportunist. He had to profit in every way imag-: from our supply lines to each and every improve-we’d made in the village. If he could, he would’vethe one to sell us the guns we’d use to kill him!said the network was making more than aa week by supplying protection. There was a sym-relationship between the network and the Taliban,were being paid not to cause trouble and were alsoemployed as guards. Many of the firefights, Gor-said, were the result of protection fees being dockedpaid late. The gunfire had nothing to do with purging“foreign invaders” from their country. Hell, thewere paying their salaries.this was the lovely oasis that Zahed had nurtured.there wasn’t a single piece of high-tech weaponry—laser-guided bullet, radar, super bomb, nothing—would change that. One Ghost unit had taken out a. We couldn’t reinvent an entire country.then, the final kicker: Gordon had learned thatCIA was already negotiating with Zahed’s numberman, Sayid Ulla, who had taken up residence in thatpalace in Kabul. Pretty much everything Broncotold me about the agency’s intentions and desires
GH OS T RE CONbeen a lie. And I felt certain that they had suppliedHER F guns to Zahed’s men and attempted to useChinese as fall guys.nothing would change. I’d taken out a thug, but incountry with very little, thugs were not in short supply.I wrote a letter to Joey’s parents, I once again triedconvince myself that my life, my job, everything...still worth it, even as murder charges loomed.’m sorry to inform you that your son died for nothingthat this war messed him up so much that he killedinnocent American solider in order to protect our.typed that twice before I got so mad I slammed shutlaptop.the plane seat could have swallowed me, I would’veit. All I could do was throw my head back andabout how badly they were going to burn me. Andmy mind wasn’t fixated on that, I’d see Shilmani... and think about Hila being thrown in a rank... and see some yellow-toothed scumbag counthanded to him by Bronco.reached down under my seat, dug into my carry-on, and produced a letter that had been part of a caresent to me by the volunteers of Operation Shoe-, a remarkable organization that sent personal care, snacks, books, and dozens of other items we allso desperately. The folks even included toys wehand out to children during our missions. I’d
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