She pursed her lips, glanced back at the girls, as if
thinking it over, then said, “I know where he is . . .”
All the intelligence assets of the U.S. government had
been unable to locate the fat man, in part because the
intelligence they gathered was being corrupted by Bronco
and his associates. Nevertheless, I would never, for the life
of me, bet that the location of my target would be spoon-
fed to me by a teenaged girl who’d been taken prisoner.
When I reflect and calculate the odds of what had hap-
pened, how I’d met Shilmani, how Hila had come to rec-
ognize me, what had happened to her and how she’d come
to learn where Zahed was located, I could only blame fate.
Or the merciless universe.
Because if I hadn’t listened to her, if I’d just dragged
them out of the cave and gotten out of there, I would’ve
only had to deal with keeping Warris quiet—
And not the rest of it.
“Help me cut ’em free,” I told Brown. “Come on,
come on.”
The words escaped my lips, and not two seconds
later, the chamber quaked and dust fell from the ceiling.
“What the hell?” Brown gasped.
“Captain!” cried Hume. “I hear gunfire coming from
somewhere outside! And mortars!”
“We have to move now, Scott!” added Warris.
“We’re coming! We’ve got some girls up here. They’re
coming down. We’re getting them out!”
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As Brown freed the girls, Hila told them where to go,
and one by one they took off running.
“They made us drink wine,” she told me as I cut
another girl free. “They made us do things.”
“I know. It’s okay.”
“No, it’s not okay. I am filthy. I am not a woman any-
more. I am a dog.”
I looked at her, grabbed her hand. “You’re not a dog.”
“But I can never go home.”
She started removing the gags from the remaining
girls and reassuring them, while the guys kept scream-
ing for me to come. The final two girls dashed off.
“All right, get them and Warris out of here. Ramirez
and the rest of Bravo should be waiting for you,” I told
Brown.
“What about you?”
I lifted my chin to Hila. “She knows where Zahed is.”
“Boss, what if she’s wrong?”
I widened my gaze on Hila. “Are you sure?”
She gave an exaggerated nod. “I hate him. He was
the first one to have me. I know where he is.”
“Oh my God,” Brown muttered under his breath.
“I’m going with her.”
“Not alone,” said Brown. “You fight with your buddy.”
I shoved my silenced pistol into Hila’s hand. “That’s
right. She’s my buddy.”
She looked at me, scared, the weight of the pistol
causing her shoulder to droop.
“You’re crazy,” said Brown. “This is crazy!”
“Just listen to me, Marcus. I need you to protect
292 GH OS T RE CON
Warris. I need you to get him out. I’m worried about
Joey, you know that.”
“I know, boss. I won’t let Joey do anything stupid.”
“Good. ’Cause I’m betting Warris won’t talk.”
“Me, too. He owes us. Big-time.”
“All right, so when you get out, contact Gordon. Tell
them to track my chip. You’ll know where I am.”
“Will do.” He thrust out his hand. “See you soon,
you crazy mofo.”
I gave him a firm handshake. “Thank you, Marcus.”
Then I turned to Hila. “Which way?”
My father raised three sons and a daughter, and my sister
Jenn was unquestionably Daddy’s little girl. The old
man was a hardcore disciplinarian with us boys, but my
sister could get away with bloody murder. As a kid I
could never understand his leniency toward her and was
entirely jealous of it. As I got older, I didn’t begrudge
my sister anymore. In fact, it took my entire life for me
to realize that Dad was a cynic who simply needed my
sister to remind him of all the beauty still left in the
world.
I wondered if Shilmani had felt likewise about Hila.
As she led me through the next tunnel, I wondered if
he’d be able to look Hila in the eye after what had hap-
pened to her. I knew the culture. I knew what happened
to girls like her. But I didn’t want to believe that.
She held up my pistol, and I had my rifle at the ready
now, with the penlight attached. She led me down two
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293
more tunnels, and we descended yet another ladder into
a small room with crates piled to the ceiling.
“Guns,” was all she said.
“So you came through here?” I asked.
She frowned a moment, then realized what I was ask-
ing. “Yes, yes.”
“Zahed is here? In the mountain?”
She stopped and shook her head.
“No?”
“No.”
“Then where is he?”
“He is in Sangsar.”
My mouth fell open. “Aw, no. That’s no good. What
do you think we’re going to do? Walk right down this
mountain and into the village?”
I guess I had spoken too fast. She frowned in thought,
then finally said, “No, no. We don’t walk. We’ll run.”
She tugged my arm, but I stopped dead.
“We can’t go to Sangsar.”
“Yes, we’ll go!”
“How?”
She made a gesture with her hand. “Under . . .”
“You mean there’s a tunnel that leads all the way
there?”
She beamed at me.
While I was heading off to Sangsar, Brown, Hume, and
Warris, along with the group of girls, were rushing back
through the tunnels, following the beacons we’d left.
294 GH OS T RE CON
The guys were not happy with my decision to free the
girls and attempt to save them, but they obeyed orders
and later told me they would’ve done the same thing. It
was sickening to realize what’d been happening in there.
Warris had told them that my decision to search for
Zahed alone was foolish and indicative of my poor judg-
ment. Brown had told him that saving his sorry ass was
also indicative of my poor judgment. I liked that.
As Hila and I kept moving, I reminded myself that
no, you could not generalize and say that all Taliban
liked to rape young girls, but we could definitively state
that Zahed’s men had taken it upon themselves to estab-
lish a terrible prison for them. The acts were inexcusable
and when I looked at Hila, even for just a second, I
wanted to kill Zahed more than anything. He was, in
my mind, the symbol for all that was wrong with the
country, all that was wrong with the war. And my hatred
burned hotter as she dragged me by the wrist and led me
down the next tunnel.
The emotions were all over the place at that moment.
I felt as though I’d been chasing the fat man all my life,
and soon there’d finally be closure, but then I worried
for Hila and imagined my own death, the gunshot to my
heart, the throbbing pain, the blood seeping into my
lungs.
The passageways grew shorter, each ending abruptly
with another ladder that we took down, always down,
and it was clear we were descending the mountain from
the inside. A lantern lit the passage at each ladder, and
we encountered no resistance. I grew more at ease—