The medics moved in to cut away the clothing that hadn’t already melted to her skin.
Camp checked her vitals on both wrists and ankles.
“Check out her right arm, sergeant, she’s going to need an escharotomy, or we’ll lose that pulse,” Camp barked to the lead medic.
“I don’t think I can do that, captain.”
“Better learn quickly.”
Captain Henry ran in from the drill location in the operating room down the other corridor and just in time to see the carnage in the ER.
“Get me a scalpel and some large dressings, sergeant,” Henry barked. “Someone take a look at the captain’s hands.”
Camp was already on the cell phone he was issued at Bagram.
“Finn! Get over to the hospital now! We’ve had an attempted homicide bombing.”
“What the hell?” Finn said as he got up from his table in the DFAC and sprinted out the back door with his phone glued to his ear.
“Finn, find some C4 and bring it.”
“Where the hell am I supposed to - .”
Camp hung up as Finn changed directions and ran toward the EOD B-hut.
“Captain Dawkins!” he screamed down the corridor. Sylvia Dawkins came running carrying her Nikon with M9 pistol still in her thigh holster, while six other American medics stood guard in the lobby with weapons pointed at Afghan army soldiers, hospital workers and the local citizens who were participating in the drill.
“Yes, sir.”
“I’m going to need a story and some photos ASAP. This is going to be released to the Afghans only. Do NOT send it up the chain for approval. This is not for Coalition Forces. Afghan eyes only!” Camp yelled.
“Sir?”
“That’s a direct order, captain.”
“Roger, sir, I have some great photos. Do you want me to run back to the PAO shop now?”
“Negative. Write your story here from the ER computer. But there’ll be a few more photos to take.”
Billy Finn came running down the corridor with two Explosive Ordnance Disposal soldiers from the 753rd National Guard unit out of West Virginia.
“Holy shit!” Finn said as he rounded the corner into the ER where Miriam was being treated and Camp managed the disaster wearing a burned uniform.
“Dawkins come here,” Camp said as he pulled Finn, the two EOD soldiers and the Public Affairs Officer against the wall opposite of where Miriam was being treated. “I need an explosion outside the front door of the hospital. Big, but not ridiculous.”
“Sir, is this authorized?” asked one of the EOD technicians.
“I’m your authorization, sergeant. Dawkins, I need you to get a photograph of the blast.”
“Photograph, my ass, all of Thunder and Lightning will go ape-shit, Camp. What the hell are you thinking?” Finn asked.
“Miriam was sent to blow this place up. For all they know she will, and she’ll be dead. Give them what they want. If we can keep Miriam alive, we might be able to find Banks.”
“Sir, what about damage to the building?” the EOD sergeant asked.
“Put the brick far enough out that it soils the wall and blows out a few windows. Finn, move everyone into the operating room and away from the front and the glass.”
“Camp, what about the Afghan soldiers and locals out there?”
“Don’t worry about them, Finn, they still think this is all a drill.”
“What about the story, captain?” Dawkins asked as she prepared her story.
“Suicide bomber detonates at the Paktya Regional Hospital today, killing an undisclosed number of Afghan soldiers, locals from Gardez and some American military personnel. Tell them no one has claimed responsibility for the bombing. Tell me about the local media here, Dawkins.”
“Well, sir, Radio Television Afghanistan has terrestrial TV and a long-reach radio signal. Al Aribya is here as is Al Jezeera. Not much in the way of print.”
“Good. Get the story over to the Afghan PAO and have him distribute with photos immediately. I want this on their TV news and radio within an hour. Don’t let anyone else beat you with the story, Dawkins. Finn, I need 10 minutes before detonation.”
Finn and Dawkins ran down the corridor as the EODs followed behind. Finn cleared out the front lobby and moved everyone over to the operating room.
“Captain Henry, we need to get Miriam loaded into an MRAP and over to the clinic on Lightning,” Camp yelled as chaos in the ER became more intense.
“Roger that, we should be ready in 30 minutes,” Henry said as he applied loose bandages to the new incision on Miriam’s right arm.
“We don’t have 30, gotta be now. No ambulance, sirens, or lights, and no urgency as we move through the checkpoint.”
“Roger.”
“They’re going to have plenty of fireworks to respond to in a few minutes.” Camp walked out the back door of the ER to look for a Mine Resistant Ambush Protected vehicle he could borrow for a quick ride.
FOB Lightning — XO’s B-Hut
Paktya Province, Afghanistan
Colonel Kierkendahl paced back and forth in front of his desk as Camp, Finn and PAO Dawkins sat around his conference table.
“You walk onto my base and start blowing up Afghan hospitals like you’re Dustin Hoffman or something. Who the hell do you think you are, Campbell?”
“I wasn’t the would-be suicide bomber, colonel. That was the interpreter your boys cleared, vetted, housed and fed for the last four years,” Camp said with obvious contempt.
“We’ve got all of the Afghans on Thunder in full code red, Lightning is on lockdown, and I’m stuck here with the mission creep producers of Wag the Afghan Dog. What am I supposed to do now?”
“I’d wait it out, professor. Never know what snake might crawl out of the hole on his belly to claim responsibility,” Finn replied with a not-so-subtle jab at the Minnesota National Guardsman and his day job at Gustavus Adolphus College.
Dawkins’ cell phone rang.
“Got it. Thank you,” she said as she ended the call. “RTA just ran the story. Photos are up on TV, and Al Arabiya and Al Jazeera are running it shortly.”
“Running what?” Kierkendahl demanded as he pounded his desk.
“Suicide bomber detonates at the Paktya Regional Hospital, undisclosed number of Afghan soldiers, locals and American military killed,” Dawkins said as she recited some of her copy.
“That’s it! I’ve had enough of this wild, wild west crap from you two. I want you off my FOB first light tomorrow.”
Finn and Camp looked at each other and smiled.
“Oh how we’d love that, colonel,” Finn said sarcastically, “but no can do.”
The colonel’s desk phone started to ring.
“Colonel Kierkendahl… yes, yes good afternoon General Ferguson… yes, sir… they’re in my office right now… so you’ve been briefed?… yes sir, but do you realize what these two have… come again, sir?… Roger that, sir.”
Kierkendahl hung up the phone and sat down in the chair behind his desk and swiveled around so that his back faced the others. He sat silently for several seconds then exhaled loudly.
“Let me know what you need. My assets are at your disposal.”
Dawkins looked over at Camp and Finn with astonishment as Camp stood.
“What about Miriam the Terp?” Camp asked Colonel Kierkendahl.
“You mean the one RTA is reporting as dead? You saved her life then killed her off for the entire world to see. Looks like she’s your problem now, Captain Campbell. Dismissed.”
9
National Interagency Biodefense Center