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try to use to get down into the valley and attack the school

and police station. We’re going to blow it up.”

208 GH OS T RE CON

“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 con-

struction 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 try-

ing 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?”

CO MB AT O P S

209

“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 aregoing to negotiate

with him.”

“Not exactly . . .”

I grinned because I couldn’t believe I’d used those

words, but I had.

T WENTY

About an hour before we were set to leave on the demo

mission, Harruck came out to our billet, and the expres-

sion 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?”

CO MB AT O P S

211

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, holi-

days, 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

212 GH OS T RE CON

true. But as I stood there, watching Harruck go, I

couldn’t help but resent some of the sacrifices, and I sur-

rendered 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 obvi-

ous 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 HER F 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.

CO MB AT O P S

213

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 Jen-

kins, 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 rug-

ged and slow climbing, I sent off Bravo team to the sec-

ond 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.

“Ghost Lead, this is Treehorn. I’m in position, over.”

“Roger that. What do you got out there?”