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the full truth, either. “His driver was also killed on the

way out of there.”

“And what did you gain?”

I looked back to the Hummer, and Nolan got out,

carrying one of the HER F guns.

“This is how they’ve been knocking out our Cross-

Coms. Also, I’ll be sending you a rough map of the tun-

nel complex they’ve got up there. We need a team to

blow it up, otherwise they’ll plan their offensive against

your school and police station.”

He studied the HER F gun, then faced me. “Are you

really trying to help me?”

“Simon, I understand where you’re coming from. I

don’t have to like it. With the all crap going down in

Helmand, I bet Gordon can’t spare another guy to come

out to relieve me. If they got Warris, you need to let me

work on that, work on taking out Zahed.”

“And we’re back to square one, with you stirring up

the nest and me crying foul.”

“I don’t know what to tell you. I’ll be filing my report.

You can read it. You can suggest I’m relieved of com-

mand all you want. But I’ll fight you all the way. Keating

knows I get results. Hard to argue with that.”

I turned around and walked back toward the truck

before he could reply.

At the comm center, Colonel Gordon told me that

they’d received a good signal from Warris’s GFTC. Every

Ghost operator had a Green Force Tracker Chip embedded

CO MB AT O P S

173

beneath his arm. The GFTCs were part of the Identifica-

tion, Friend or Foe (IFF) system so we knew who was

who on the battlefield. Warris was being moved, but the

colonel said that Warris’s chip suddenly went dead. Either

they’d taken him to a deep cave where the signal was

blocked, or they’d cut the chip out of his arm and found

a way to deactivate it. If they knew about our Cross-

Coms, they might’ve known about our chips . . .

Back in our billet, I collapsed onto my rack and just lay

there a moment, staring at the curved metal ceiling. The

guys were removing gear, groaning about aches and

pains, and recounting moments from the battle. I glanced

over at Ramirez, who was sitting on his bunk, shirtless,

with his face buried in his palms.

We both knew the talk was coming.

But all I wanted to do at that moment was sleep. So I

draped an arm over my eyes and found myself back in

the tunnels, as Warris confronted me with a band of

Taliban at his shoulders.

“See, Scott, you never know who’s working for who.

I work for the Taliban. And so does Harruck. In fact,

the whole Army’s in bed with them, everyone except

you. You’re the only idiot who didn’t get the memo.”

I wrote my report in the morning, hating myself with

every word I typed. I lied about the time of the attack and

about me resisting Warris’s attempts to take my command.

174 GH OS T RE CON

But more important, I lied about Private Thomas Hen-

drickson’s death. He’d been shot point-blank in the back,

but no one would question that. An AK-47 had been

used, and seasoned Special Forces operators were vowing

that the kid had been in the wrong place at the wrong

time. Hendrickson was a private, a cherry, with barely any

experience. That he’d gotten killed would hardly raise a

brow. I couldn’t help but do some morbid research on the

kid. And what I’d learned just broke my heart.

After a few conversations with the others, I felt cer-

tain that no one else had seen Ramirez shoot the kid.

At breakfast, Ramirez avoided me like the plague,

and then, afterward, I asked him to join me on a ride up

to see the construction site.

Oh, he knew it was coming.

“Maybe we should talk about this elephant in the

desert,” he said.

I couldn’t help but snort. “The elephant? You mean

the one being ridden by a murderer?”

He slammed the door on the Hummer, and I drove.

We left the main gate and headed about halfway down

the desert road, and then I pulled off to the side, and we

just sat there in the growing heat. I was reminded of the

times when my dad was mad at me and would take me

out for a drive and a talk. In fact, it dawned on me only

then that I was doing the same thing . . .

After breakfast, I’d put in a call to my sister and

brothers and was still waiting to hear back on Dad’s con-

dition. I could only pray for an improvement.

CO MB AT O P S

175

“Scott, before you say anything, can I talk?” Ramirez’s

voice was already cracking.

“Go ahead.”

“As soon as you started having problems with Har-

ruck, he came to me and Matt, set up a conference call

between us and the battalion commander. Basically,

they were trying to recruit us as spies and allies. They

were trying to convince us that our mission was going to

do more harm than good here.”

I chuckled darkly. “I’m not surprised.”

“You know what we told them to do with that

offer . . .”

“Good.”

“But still, they put a lot pressure on us. I don’t think

Matt ever caved in, but I know they’re gunning for you

and gunning hard. Not sure if you’ve made an enemy

upstairs or what, but I started thinking that maybe this

whole mission to get Zahed is just a way for them to get

rid of you.”

“Whoa, now you’re getting paranoid.”

“Scott, I don’t think I could do this without you. If

you’re gone, I’d just drop out of the Ghosts. I would. I

wouldn’t trust anyone else.”

“That’s crazy. But Joey, listen. None of this is justify-

ing what you did—and do you really understand what

you did?”

He lowered his head. And my God, he began to cry.

Special Forces operators never say quit. And we cer-

tainly do our best NOT to cry.

176 GH OS T RE CON

“He was going to burn us,” he said. “I could tell. I

just snapped. And I did it.”

“Did you know anything about him? About how his

dad fought in the first Gulf War, about how he’d come

from a long line of military guys? Did you know he had

a girlfriend who’s pregnant?”

Ramirez shook his head, turning away from me to

sink his head deeper into his hands.

“You know, being in Special Forces is one thing. But

we were chosen to be in the Ghosts because we don’t

just talk about the tenets of being a great soldier, we live

by them. We live by the creed. And I quote, ‘I will not

fail those with whom I serve. I will not bring shame

upon myself or the forces.’ ”

I guess hearing myself say those words was a little

too much to bear. I screamed at the top of my lungs,

“JESUS CHRIST, JOEY! JESUS CHRIST! WHAT

THE HELL DID YOU DO?”

“I don’t know! I don’t know! Please don’t turn me in.

I got nothing else. You know that. This is my entire life.

Scott, please . . .”

“I lied in my report. Do you realize the position

you’ve put me in? I need to call Gordon and tell him you

killed that kid to protect me.”

He backhanded tears from his eyes, then looked at me,