“You’re coming in with us,” Rubeo told him.
“Of course,” said the man unhappily.
Lawson and the Filipino nicknamed Joker went first, followed by Jons, who stayed in the doorway until the other two had made sure the place was clear. Abas and the others stayed below.
Four girls and two women were crowded into the living room just off the small foyer. They were the only ones home; all the others were either out at school or work. From what Halit said, there were two families here, and a grandmother. The grandmother, who was in her early fifties, was in the living room and acted as the family spokesperson.
After the children had told their story, she went to the kitchen to prepare some food for the visitors. Rubeo had Halit tell her that they’d just been fed but would gladly like something to drink. Anything more, Rubeo realized, would undoubtedly mean the family wouldn’t eat for a week.
The grandmother found two dusty bottles of an Italian soft drink, and served cups all around. Rubeo told Halit to find out what he could about the family, then to ask if the woman knew the people who had been killed in the bombing.
Halit balked.
“To ask this — it is difficult to know the reaction,” said the translator.
“Tell her we want to help them.”
“She won’t believe you.”
“Probably right, boss,” said Jons.
“Then let’s ask the kids,” said Rubeo. “Have them take us to the families.”
“There was a riot here the other day, Ray,” said Jons. “We’ve really pushed this far. Very far. I really don’t think we should go any further.”
“Fortunately, you’re not the one making the decisions,” said Rubeo.
7
Turk was on his way to the base when Danny Freah called him on his cell phone and told him to report to him ASAP.
“What’s up, Colonel?” asked Turk.
“We’ll discuss it when you get here.”
Danny’s tone made it clear that he should expect trouble, so when Turk walked into his office, he wasn’t surprised by the colonel’s stoic face — Freah’s standard expression when things were going sour. The colonel wasn’t a shouter — Turk couldn’t remember him ever raising his voice. But in many ways his silent, unspoken disapproval was far worse.
“Have a seat, Captain,” said Danny. He was sitting at a computer screen, and after giving Turk a brief but meaningful glare, turned back and resumed typing.
The wait was excruciating, but Turk knew the best thing to do was wait for the colonel to speak. Danny’s keystrokes seemed to become harsher as he typed. Finally he was done. He sat back from the computer, crossed his arms, and swiveled in his seat.
“Half the NATO command thinks you are an irresponsible pilot willing to fire on civilians—” started Danny.
Turk cut him off. “No way.”
“You had to be ordered several times not to open fire on civilian vehicles.”
“I–I didn’t shoot.”
“And then there are people who think you withheld fire because you’re afraid of hitting anything.”
“What?”
Unfolding his arms, Danny reached across his desk for a piece of paper.
Turk took it and started to read. It was an e-mail detailing part of an after-action report about the A–10E “incident.”
… despite having been cleared because of the earlier engagement, Captain Mako erroneously held fire. A few moments later there was a flash from the ground. The flash was the launch of an SA–14, fired from the group Captain Mako had passed. The missile or its shrapnel struck Shooter Three on the right side, disabling the engine and much of the control surfaces…
“That’s bullshit,” said Turk. “That’s total bullshit. Who’s saying this?”
“Check the heading.”
The e-mail was from Colonel Ernesto.
“Ginella said this? No, no way. No way,” sputtered Turk. “I couldn’t assume that I was cleared to fire — that’s totally missing the intent of the ROEs. Even if I saw a weapon—”
“Did you see a weapon?”
“No,” Turk insisted. “No. If I had seen a weapon, then—”
He stopped short. If he had seen a weapon, he would have fired. Even if it was a kid.
He would have, wouldn’t he?
“She’s giving me a heads-up as a courtesy,” said Danny. “She said there may be an explanation, and she’s not putting anything in writing until she talks to you.”
Turk felt as if he’d been punched in the stomach. He had a feeling this had nothing to do with the incident itself, but rather Li.
Damn.
“Colonel, I swear. No one in that group was armed. I would have seen a missile launcher. I looked. I really looked.”
“How fast were you going?” Danny asked.
“I don’t remember.”
“Three hundred knots?”
“No.” Turk shook his head. “It would have been a lot slower than that.”
“A hundred?”
“That’s stall speed. A little faster.” Turk shook his head. “Colonel, I know what I saw.”
Danny frowned.
“You can’t let her say that. It makes me look like… a coward.”
“It’s not up to me what she says.”
Turk knew the e-mail was meant as blackmail. But he couldn’t tell Danny that.
“You have to believe me. That’s not what happened,” he said. “They’re saying crap about me because I’m not a member of the squadron. And for the record — I told Grizzly to break the other way. He turned right into it. It was dumb, not his fault, but… I mean—”
Danny put up his hand. “She’s the one you have to talk to.”
Turk shook his head.
“Are you saying you don’t want to talk to her?” asked Danny.
“No — I’ll talk to her. I’ll talk to her.”
“You want me to come with you?”
That wasn’t going to work.
“It’s all right. Thanks.”
“In the meantime, you’re not flying for anybody but Whiplash. You understand?”
“Yes, sir. That’s fine.”
Danny watched Turk leave the office. He felt bad for the kid — Ginella’s e-mail was extremely harsh, even without the very strict rules of engagement they were operating under.
Technically, she was within her rights to go through with a report criticizing Turk. If she did, Danny would make sure it was countered somehow.
Still, the damage would be done. Better for Turk to talk her out of it himself.
On the other hand, was her implication correct — had Turk missed the weapon? Had he seen it and dismissed it? It couldn’t have just appeared suddenly.
Between that and the incident with the trucks, which the air commander had mentioned to him earlier, it seemed like the pilot was unduly stressed.
Understandable, he thought. He’d been there himself.
Paulson was standing in the outer office when Turk came in.
“Here’s the Dreamland hotshot who nearly got Grizzly killed,” said Paulson when he saw Turk in the hall. “Thanks a lot.”
“Fuck you,” snapped Turk.
“You gonna slug me?” asked Paulson.
Turk was sorely tempted.
“Mr. Paulson, that will do,” said Ginella, coming to the doorway.
“We’re all grounded, you know,” Paulson told Turk. “Nice going, hotshot.”
Turk felt his face warm.
“We’re taking a breather, Captain,” Ginella told Paulson. “Captain Mako, why don’t you step into my office?”