Nathan didn’t say anything. He looked at the man sitting next to Cantrell.
“You can speak freely. Bill’s my personal assistant, and he’s been thoroughly briefed on the Echo program.”
“Raven was the best shooter we trained down there.”
CHAPTER 5
“Give me everything, Nathan. I want to know all there is to know about this man. Being trained by you makes him extremely lethal. I’m assuming he graduated and didn’t wash out?”
“Yes, he graduated.” Nathan said. “I remember him well. We remember him well. We had our doubts about Raven, but we didn’t pick him for the program. That decision was made by his commanding officer, a lieutenant, as I recall. As you know, the candidate selection process was kept secret, even from us. Not just anyone could enlist in the program. Over a five-month period, our recruits underwent an intensive program designed to make them proficient in hand-to-hand combat, small arms, IEDs, surveillance, and countersurveillance. We also taught basic field-interrogation technique, tracking, and stealth, you name it. When our recruits finished the program, they had the equivalent of recon training with a strong emphasis on sniper skills. They didn’t come to us green, they were hardened Contra rebels who’d been fighting a nasty civil war against the Sandinista regime. They already knew much of what we taught them. We just sharpened their skills.”
“Since no paper exists on any of this, I’m relying on my memory, but I don’t recall reading anything about a code name ‘Raven.’”
“That’s right. You wouldn’t have,” Harv said. “We gave all of our recruits nicknames. The CIA teams were called Echo units, and the Contra teams were kilo units. But we found calling them K1, K2, K3, and so on was too impersonal. We spent five months with them.”
“So Raven was a shooter, not a spotter?”
“That’s right,” Nathan said. “And a good one. He had the gift. It’s hard to explain how some people just have what it takes to be shooters. I never doubted he’d make it through. He was in great condition, had all the physical prerequisites, and had a good mindset… Maybe a little too good.” Nathan looked at Harv, then said, “I can’t swear it happened, but when he made his first kill, his face lit with… I don’t know… exhilaration, I guess.”
“The guy smiled,” Harv said. “There was no guessing about it. No one ever smiles. We’ve seen men become everything from withdrawn to physically ill over their first kill. This guy loved it.”
“Harv and I don’t necessarily agree on this. It’s the Mona Lisa question — is she smiling or not?”
“I know what I saw,” Harv said.
“You’re saying he enjoyed it?”
“In my opinion, he absolutely did.”
“While you were flying out here, I reread many of your mission reports from pre-Nicaraguan ops, and it’s clear: you always expressed regret at the actual taking of a human life. You were damned good at your jobs, but you didn’t like pulling the trigger.”
“Rebecca,” Nathan said, “we’re getting into personal introspection here that I’m uncomfortable talking about.”
“Before Bill became an operations officer, he spent several years with the ATF as a special response team sniper.”
Nathan raised a brow.
“Two,” Bill said.
Rebecca continued. “I also read your report on the emotional aspect of being a shooter.”
“You’re talking about the second kill being the hardest?” Nathan asked.
“You both agreed the second kill was more difficult, because it meant you were willing to do it again.”
Nathan looked out his window before refocusing on Cantrell. “We can’t speak for anyone else, but that was true for us. Our first kill went by in a blur. It didn’t… I don’t know, seem real. It almost felt like we were acting in a play. It took us a few days to decompress and really think about what we’d done. When we went out for the second op, it felt different… like a job, I guess. Every sniper has to deal with the job in their own way. There’s no book to consult on the psychological impact of being a shooter. Is it cowardly to kill someone who has no clue he’s about to die? Is it fair? What is fair in war? Harv and I have talked about this at great length, and we’ve concluded that we saved American, coalition, and civilian lives. If a friendly position is being overrun and the commander on the ground calls in an airstrike, is that a cowardly act? In our opinion, it’s clearly not. That commander used an available asset to save the lives of his troops and hold his position. There’s an undeniable callousness associated with being a sniper, because it’s up close and personal through the scope. You just have to disconnect from it. Think of it like an emotion switch that you turn off and on like a light. To make a kill, you disengage by turning the switch off.”
“It’s not unique to snipers,” Harv added. “Think about the crew of an Ohio: if they didn’t emotionally disengage, they’d never be able to launch their Tridents. The same thing applies to artillerymen, fighter pilots, you name it.”
Bill nodded in agreement. It was clear he understood the concept.
“Raven’s switch was always on, but he had no problem pulling the trigger.”
“So why didn’t you wash Raven out?” Cantrell asked.
Nathan looked out his window again. He’d been hoping she wouldn’t ask.
“Look, I’m not trying to second-guess you guys, but it’s a fair question.”
“We created hardened and efficient killers. That was our assignment. If I’d insisted, I could’ve sent him down the road, but truthfully, I liked him. He was a good combat soldier, and I trusted him.”
Harv jumped in. “In 1990 when the Sandinistas lost political power, most of rural Nicaragua was very much like our early Wild West. The government had little or no control over the remote areas. There were leftover Sandinista warlords committing horrible atrocities against civilians in those mountains. Anyone perceived as a Contra sympathizer, whether they were or not, was rounded up, tortured, slaughtered, and buried in mass graves. Our job was to teach the kilo teams how to take out the warlords without collateral damage to the civilian population. We were in a time-critical situation.”
“Understood,” said Cantrell. “As always, circumstances dictated what we had to do. Many powerful people in the media and on Capitol Hill wanted Reagan’s head on a platter. I was neck-deep in Operation Echo. Atrocities against the civilian population took a sharp nosedive. There’s no way to definitively gauge how many lives you guys saved down there, but it’s probably in the hundreds, if not thousands.”
Nathan nodded. “Thanks for saying that, Rebecca. We did our jobs as best we could. I don’t like the idea of Raven misusing or selling his skills… if that’s what’s going on.”
“All we know is what’s written on that piece of paper, and it isn’t much. Not surprisingly, there were no fingerprints. I think it’s fair to assume whoever threw that note over the fence wanted to get our attention, and he succeeded. I also think it’s reasonable to assume he’ll make contact again.”
“So how do we fit in?”
“When I said you’re never retired, I was speaking figuratively, not literally. I can’t force you to do anything, but I think I know you guys pretty well. If Raven’s gone bad, he’ll have to be dealt with, and the job should be yours.”
“Because we trained him.”
“I’m not saying that, and I don’t think it’s fair to you. If a cop goes bad, no one blames the academy instructors. It’s more a matter of who’s best suited to handle this. I don’t need to tell you how dangerous he could be if he’s aligned himself with a criminal organization like a cartel or gang.”