Perhaps, I quipped to myself, we should change our name to Rogue Recon.
Then I realized once again that if I didn’t tell them what I had in mind, we’d be digging ourselves deeper graves. So I just took a breath and spilled the beans:
“Gentlemen, I’m in the process of setting up a meeting with Zahed.”
“Are you serious, Mitchell?” asked Keating.
“Yes, General, I am. One of my contacts in the village works for the water man, who wants me to kill Zahed. My contact has a cousin who works for the fat man himself. Let me go in there and talk to them.”
“No, not you, Mitchell,” snapped Harruck. “We’ll send in a professional negotiator.”
I started laughing. “I’ve got the translator, and they’re setting me up as an opium smuggler, so once I get in there, we’ll spring the trap on Zahed. There won’t be any negotiations.”
“Now that sounds like a plan,” said Keating. “We don’t sit around and chat while they’re about to chop the head off an American soldier. What do you need, Mitchell?”
I faced Harruck and the others on their screens. “I just need to be left alone so I can do my job, sir. And I need evac when the fireworks begin.”
Harruck was shaking his head. “General, with all due respect, sir, don’t you think an ambush operation like this can do more harm than good? If Mitchell fails, they’ll behead Warris on TV, and they’ll all be gone before we can launch our offensive. It’s a lose-lose, if you ask me.”
“We didn’t ask you, Captain. And Mitchell will not fail.”
Keating looked at me.
I gave him a curt nod. “My team is heading up into the mountains tonight. There’s a small cave network they’ll try to use to get down into the valley and attack the school and police station. We’re going to blow it up.”
“Maybe we should delay that operation until you meet with Zahed,” said Gordon.
“Colonel, I’d prefer to take care of that first.” I gave Gordon an emphatic look.
“All right, Captain, understood.”
I wanted to blow the caves first in case I didn’t make it back. Maybe I was growing a soft heart, but I kept imagining Anderson standing out there with those construction workers and those school kids and all of them dying under a hail of bullets. The cave network, like the bridge we’d blown, was an avenue of approach that needed to be eliminated.
After the meeting, Harruck pulled me aside and said, “I’ll have a Bradley and rifle squad ready for you.”
I softened my tone. “Thanks.”
“I’m sorry, Scott, but this is, as far as I’m concerned, the beginning of the end for you.”
“Why’s that?”
“If you do get that meeting with Zahed, I don’t think you’ll come back. I think you’re making a huge mistake. I don’t know what this is about… your ego… you trying to prove something to higher. You should’ve been relieved.”
“And that’s the difference between you and me.”
“Oh, yeah?”
“Yeah. I’ve got faith in that fat old bastard.”
“Zahed?”
“Yeah.”
“Why?”
“Because I’ve got something he wants — all that water from the new well. He’s been cut off. He won’t like it.”
“So what you’re saying is you are going to negotiate with him.”
“Not exactly…”
I grinned because I couldn’t believe I’d used those words, but I had.
TWENTY
About an hour before we were set to leave on the demo mission, Harruck came out to our billet, and the expression on his face didn’t look promising. The guys groaned, figuring the mission was off and that higher had more politically correct plans in mind.
But it turned out that my sister had notified the Army of my father’s passing. I wasn’t going to say anything, not even to the team.
“Scott, I’m very sorry to hear about your father.” He then explained how he’d heard.
“It’s all right. Thanks.”
“You should have told us. You need to go home. You need to pay your respects.”
“Would that make it easier for you?”
He 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.”
I couldn’t repress my sigh of disgust. “Good luck with that. Well, thanks for coming out, then.”
“So, you’re not taking a leave?”
I snorted. “I e-mailed my brother. I’ve already told him I can’t come.”
“You’re putting this in front of your father’s funeral? Are you sure? Are you sure you won’t regret this for the rest of your life?”
“Simon, I lost a guy here. I’ve got another guy who was captured. One of your men got killed while up there with me. I’ve got a young captain trying to help a village. I just can’t walk away now. I won’t regret it. My family understands. My dad would understand.”
He took a deep breath, gave a curt nod. “All right. Good luck, then.”
I’d missed more births, birthdays, anniversaries, holidays, and even funerals than I could remember. It didn’t get any easier. In fact, it got harder, and every time I spoke to my brothers or my sister on the phone, I had to reassure myself that the life I’d chosen was the right one because the distance between me and “the real world” grew larger every year.
And yes, I’d lied to Harruck. My brothers and sister would not understand. They would never tell me, but I could see it in their eyes, quite clearly. My sister once told me that I never did anything for myself. That wasn’t true. But as I stood there, watching Harruck go, I couldn’t help but resent some of the sacrifices, and I surrendered to the guilt of not attending my father’s funeral because yes, I’d put my job first. I’d given a lot to the Army, to the Ghosts, but missing Dad’s funeral… maybe that was too much.
We hitched a ride aboard one of the supply Chinooks, and we had that pilot drop us off about a kilometer east of the mountains. We set down in a well-protected valley not far from our FARP (Forward Arming and Resupply Point), used by gunships, Blackhawks, and Chinooks alike, so our bird was not a curious sight in that zone. We would hike in with less chance of being detected by Taliban fighters posted along cliffs that overlooked the village. Their gazes would be trained on the more obvious lines of approach, and we’d be coming up on their flank.
Ramirez and I wore the two Cross-Coms so we could easily detect friend from foe, but the others were blind because of the last HERF gun blast, so our Alpha and Bravo teams would need to stick together. Treehorn, our one-man Charlie “team” and sniper, would be posted outside the main exit tunnel we’d chosen, ready to pick off anyone who pursued us. We chose not to wear body armor to move more swiftly through the tunnels. Again, my plan was to avoid all enemy contact.
Yes, that was the plan. Would it survive the first enemy contact? Of course not.
A remarkably cool breeze tugged at our turbans and shemaghs, and if you spotted us hiking along the ridges, you would swear we were drug smugglers or Taliban.
Ramirez was more quiet than usual, but I think he appreciated my business-as-usual attitude, even if it was a disguise. The mission took priority. We both knew that.
But I would still keep a sharp eye on him. He led Jenkins, Hume, and Brown, and I’d told Brown in private that because Joey wasn’t feeling good I wanted him to look after the sergeant. He said he would.
I kept Smith and Nolan close, and as we approached the first cave entrance after about sixty minutes of rugged and slow climbing, I sent off Bravo team to the second entrance, about a quarter kilometer west of ours and located about two hundred meters higher up the mountain. The caves and adjoining tunnels were roughly shaped like two letter Ys attached at their bases, with pairs of entrances on either side of the mountain. When my team got into the first tunnel and reached the cave area where Warris had been cut off, our lights revealed a fresh passage dug through the debris.