Penny had to admit to herself that she now thought of them as the stupidest, most backward beings on the face of the earth. She sincerely felt sorry for their suffering, but things had reached a point where the efforts to help them just weren't worth it. A cynical American doctor had remarked that the villagers' refusal to accept medical aid was nature's way of thinning the herd. A proper British orthopedic surgeon had summed it up with the more refined Survival of the fittest and all that, old chap. Natural selection, what?
Another, more personal situation also weighed down on her emotions. An old boyfriend of hers had been among the SEALs during the episode with the Pashtun clans. His name was Chad Murchison, and he came from the same wealthy class of Boston aristocrats as Penny. The couple had known each other all their lives, gone to prep school together until Chad, a year older, had gone off to Yale. During her senior year after Chad had left for college, she fell for a member of the prep school varsity football team. This was Cliff Arm-brewster, a good-looking muscular guy who had swept her off her feet. She broke up with Chad and became engaged to Cliff. The romance was a disaster. He had the intellect of a fence post and was going to get a position in an insurance firm where his father was chairman of the board. The schmuck didn't have a mind of his own, and his mom was even planning every single detail of the wedding while ignoring Penny and her own mother. At that time, she realized the big mistake she had made. Chad was a skinny, sweet guy who was handsome in a sort of gawky way, but he was very intelligent and had a great future ahead of him either with his banking family or by going off on his own. She hoped to make things up to him, but learned he had dropped out of Yale and joined the Navy.
The next time she saw him was there in Afghanistan when his SEAL detachment showed up at the UN camp after winning a series of battles against Pashtun mujahideen. She hardly recognized her former boyfriend as this rugged, fully armed, capable SEAL whose commanding officer was a fierce fellow called Wild Bill Brannigan. They got back together, even had sex, but something in Chad's attitude rattled her. He looked at her in a different way, and her bold attempt to get them engaged to be married had been met with a marked hesitancy on his part. After he was withdrawn from the area to go back to the States, they stayed in touch by letter, but he had not made any serious attempts to deepen their relationship. This was something she found very difficult to deal with. Penny had always been the belle of the ball, and wasn't used to being treated in such a cavalier manner.
Now, sitting on her bunk in the tent used by the sanitation teachers, Penny held the last letter she had received from Chad Murchison. It had been a nice, polite missive, telling her about a training exercise he had gone through on the island of San Clemente. But there was no outpouring of romantic affection, no expression of desire to see her again. She now seriously considered the very real possibility that she had lost him forever. Penny decided that the next time she saw Chad, she would turn on the charm, the sex, and the tears to bring him back under her power.
Penny!
She looked up, startled to see the German dietician, Erika Maanchen, standing in the tent flap. Yes?
Have you lost track of time? Ericka asked in a disapproving tone. Already we wait for you to present your class on how to be washing the babies. Are you ready for it?
Yes, Penny answered.
She slipped Chad's letter in her pocket, then picked up her notes and the videotape. She slipped from the tent and walked over to the instruction area ready to speak to the Pashtun women on a subject in which they had no interest.
.
SOUTHWESTERN AFGHANISTAN DESERT
1800 HOURS
CAPTAIN Arsalaan Sikes, nee Archibald Sikes, stood in the hatch of his EE-3 armored car. He pressed the transmit button of the Russian R-108 tactical radio. It, like the Dashika heavy machine guns, had been gotten by the Jihad Abadi in a roundabout manner. The Iranians obtained the weapons from Afghan mujahideen who had looted them from ambushed Soviet troops during the USSR's invasion of their country. The Iranians eventually passed them on to the Arab insurgents.
In line yamin wa shmal! he ordered. The first and third platoons went to his right and the second and fourth to his left, both coming abreast. Indak! The entire armored car company came to a halt in perfect alignment, facing to the front.
They had just finished two grueling hours of running different battle formations, going from the various echelons along with enveloping and frontal-attack maneuvers. He was pleased with the way the men had performed. They were enthusiastic and eagerly waiting when they could go out on combat patrols to seek out targets of opportunity. But now they were tired. So was the captain. He ordered the engines turned off and gave permission for everyone to prepare the evening meal.
PRIVATE Archibald Sikes deserted the British Army during a routine work assignment he had been given. He was to drive a TM 4'4 vehicle over to the quartermaster depot to pick up a couple of tires for one of the Leyland-DAF four-ton trucks. Instead of following orders, when he left the Royal Regiment of Dragoons compound, he turned in the opposite direction, driving down the main drag of Basra. After going a mile, he turned off onto a side street and drove past startled Iraqis into a poor neighborhood, as he had been directed to do by Khalil Farouk. When he reached the indicated intersection as instructed, a tough-looking guy in an athletic training suit suddenly opened the opposite door and jumped into the left-hand passenger seat. He pointed ahead and said, That way you go! That way you go!
Right, mate, Archie said. That way I go.
They continued on deeper into the neighborhood, making a couple of turns, then stopped in front of a dilapidated apartment building. Now another man appeared. This one took Archie's place, pulling him out into the street none too gently. The vehicle sped off and the first fellow, having disembarked from the truck, took Archie by the arm, leading him into the building. Archie began growing more nervous every second as he was pulled down a long dark corridor. But when they reached a door and stepped inside a room, Farouk was waiting with warm greetings. He even hugged the reluctant Archie, calling him sahib friend. After completing his salutations with a warm handshake, he pointed to a man sitting at a small table. That is someone you will know as al-Zaim for the time being.
How d'you do, sir? Archie said politely, noting a chair on the opposite side of the table from the stranger.
I am fine, thank you, the man replied in English. His accent was not Arabian, yet was close. Will you sit down, please, Mr. Sikes. I wish to make a little test of your military knowledge.
You blokes don't waste time, do you? Archie remarked to the man he would eventually learn was Brigadier Shahruz Khohollah of the Iranian Army.
We certainly do not, al-Zaim replied.
Fine with me, Archie said agreeably. He took the empty chair. Fire away when you're ready, sir.
Let's begin with the subject of ambushes, said Al-Zaim. Would you describe for me, please, that which is known as a deliberate ambush.
Archie quickly replied, That's when you're gonna be hitting a specific target at a location you've picked out because it's bluddy handy.
Mmm. And please tell me two things to consider for a deliberate ambush.
Archie thought a moment. Well, right off the top of me head, I'd say which direction the enemy is gonna be moving he turned thoughtful again and what sort o' formation the enemy is and its numbers.
Al-Zaim seemed to be thinking. Then he suddenly asked, Suppose I were your commanding officer and I wanted you to trail after an enemy unit that had passed through our area. How would you conduct the operation?