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me, even, and I wasn’t going to take any more of his

bullshit. So what I did say was, “I’m not going home

until I either capture or kill your good buddy Zahed.”

Shilmani translated.

Kundi stepped back. The gunmen lined up.

260 GH OS T RE CON

“What the hell, boss?” groaned Treehorn. “Are they

getting ready to shoot us?”

Kundi heard the whomping first. He whirled around,

lifted a hand to his brow.

Then I heard it. We all did. Two choppers: a Black-

hawk and an Apache screaming in from the east, from

Kandahar.

“We’re late getting back,” I told Treehorn.

“Good deal,” he said.

Suddenly, Kundi waved for his men to retreat behind

the trailers. They ran off, as did the old man, who was

shouting back at Shilmani.

“I’m sorry, Scott. Really. I am,” cried Shilmani. “And

Scott, maybe you can help me! They took my daughter!

They took my daughter!”

With that Shilmani bolted off.

It was interesting trying to explain to the Blackhawk

crew how we’d managed to get our sorry asses kid-

napped, and I called ahead to Harruck to have someone

pick up our Hummer—that was, providing the villagers

hadn’t set it on fire. Turned out they hadn’t.

During the chopper ride back to the FOB, Gordon

contacted me to say that while they’d been scanning for

Green Force Tracker Chips they’d picked up a brief sig-

nal from Warris’s GFTC. Intel indicated that he was

being moved, and Gordon had pinpointed the entrance

to yet another tunnel complex.

It was time to make our move for a rescue.

CO MB AT O P S

261

* * *

“So you got yourself taken prisoner,” said Harruck, pro-

ducing two glasses for us. It was going to be straight

whiskey this time and it was barely past noon.

We sat in his office, me still rubbing my wrists, him

intent on filling our drinks to the brim.

I took mine and sucked it down like a man who’d

found an oasis. The burn nearly made my eyes roll back.

After a long exhale, I said, “I’m so over this.”

“You and me both.”

“It’s tearing us up. All of us.”

“It is. You ever think it’d be like this? I mean when

you first joined up?”

“Oh, yeah, of course. I was totally stoked about the

futility of war.”

He snorted. “Me, too.”

“But maybe now we’ve caught a break.”

That drew his frown. “Really? You know they’ve

gone back on the TV. They’re going to kill Warris if we

don’t meet their demands in twenty-four hours. Keating

has stepped up plans for the offensive.”

“And you know what’s going to happen,” I said. “If I

don’t get out there, they’re going to kill Warris, they’ll

launch that offensive, and the media will report on all the

innocents who were killed. W’ell be the bad guys all over

again.”

The XO knocked, then entered. “Sir, the governor’s

back. He’s screaming again.”

“Tell him to fuck off,” snapped Harruck.

262 GH OS T RE CON

I laughed under my breath.

“Tell him I’m in a meeting,” Harruck corrected.

“Okay, and Dr. Anderson is outside, too. She says all

the workers just walked off the job. They just . . . left . . .”

“What?”

“I don’t know what’s going on, sir, but I’m willing to

bet it all goes back to Kundi.”

“That’s a safe bet,” I told the XO. I stood. “I’m gearing

up. I’m taking the team out tonight. We’ve got actionable

intel on Warris’s location. We’ll find him. And maybe we’ll

find Zahed.”

Harruck was already shaking his head. “There’s noth-

ing to talk about here. Like you said, they’ll kill Warris,

the offensive will happen, and all my work here was for

nothing. Actionable intel is just an excuse for C-4 and

gunfire.”

I raised my brows. “I’m taking one more shot, and all

I need is a little evac if it all hits the fan.”

“You’re dreaming, Scott.”

“I’m not. If I can find Warris—if I can do that, they

won’t have to launch the offensive. If I can take out

Zahed, that’s icing on the cake.”

“We’ve got more enemies than the Taliban here.

Bronco wants Zahed rich and alive and feeding the

agency information. Kundi wants the status quo. Even

the people here would rather deal with Zahed. We’re the

only idiots that want him dead. If you kill him, the Tal-

iban will retaliate.”

“We’ll dismantle and demoralize them. By the time

I’m done, they won’t know what hit them.”

CO MB AT O P S

263

“I don’t believe you anymore, Scott. And I can’t sup-

port you.”

“I know when it comes down to it, you’ll do the right

thing. You won’t leave me hanging out there.”

He took a deep breath. “Just get out.”

I returned a lopsided grin. “Thanks for the drink.”

T WENTY-FIVE

The satellite images that Gordon had provided were both

excellent and disconcerting. The tunnel entrance where

Warris’s signal had last been detected overlooked the north-

east side of Sangsar, so we’d need to hike through one of

the mountain passes off the main road, then hike another

half kilometer to reach the top and descend down to the

tunnel, all the while making sure we were not spotted.

With the men gathered inside our billet, I went over

the hardcopy images, indicated our route, and asked for

suggestions about our evac.

“Any word on CAS?” asked Brown.

I gave him the usual look.

“Not even a Predator?” asked Hume. “I mean, Jesus

God, we’ve lost men up there. Not even a friggin’ drone?”

CO MB AT O P S

265

“I’m working on it,” I said. I had sent Gordon the

request. Even if we couldn’t get fire support, the Predator

guys could pick up the thermal images of guards posi-

tioned near and around the tunnel entrance. I’d said we

were willing to take any kind of intel via sensor because

anything that’s a sensor has to talk to everybody else.

“Before we leave, I want to put something on the

table,” said Ramirez, his voice growing uneven.

My heart might have skipped a beat. I cautioned him

with my gaze, which he met for only a second.

“What’s up?” asked Brown.

“Look, nobody’s said anything about it, but we need

to talk.”

“Joey, I know where this is going,” said Treehorn.

“We’re all in this together. We don’t need to do that.”

“I think we do,” Ramirez said, raising his voice.

“Because if we rescue Warris, then he’ll start squealing

like a freaking pig—and we’re all going to pay for that.”

He looked at me. “Warris is not loyal to the Ghosts. Not

the way we are. Isn’t that right, Captain?”

I just shook my head. Was he threatening me now?

“I am not having this conversation,” said Brown,

raising a palm. “I am not going there.”