'All right,' Brannigan said. He gestured to Senior Chief Dawkins. 'I'll let you do the rest of the interrogation.'
'Aye, sir,' Dawkins said. He took the prisoner by the arm. 'Let's go, Russki.'
Parkolov was deliriously happy. 'May I have American cigarette please? Maybe you are having Lucky Strike, nyet?'
Chapter 20
THE BATTLEFIELD 1 SEPTEMBER
0800 HOURS LOCAL
THE platoon stood in the midst of the shrapnel-slashedand-burned corpses that were dismembered and scattered around the area in grotesque positions. Many were naked, their clothing blown off by the violence of the aerial bombardment.
The 'chop-chop' sounds of a half dozen UH-60 Black-hawk helicopters approaching in trail could be heard in the distance. When the aircraft were within a kilometer, four of them broke off from the formation, while two came straight in. All six settled down to gentle landings, and when the four that had separated from the flight touched the ground, a squad of 101st Airborne Division troopers came out of each one. The soldiers formed up in two columns, then marched out to take up security positions around the area.
The other two choppers had settled down close to where the fourteen SEALs awaited them. Two figures disembarked from the nearest, walking rapidly toward the spot where Lieutenants Bill Brannigan and Jim Cruiser waited. Lieutenant Colonel Harry Latrelle, the Army civil affairs officer, and Afghanistan government envoy Zaid Aburrani came to a sudden stop when they finally noted they had walked into the midst of charred and mutilated human carnage.
'Holy Mother of God!' Latrelle exclaimed. 'Did you guys do all this?'
'Well, part of it,' Brannigan said, offering his hand. 'The F-16s did most of the killing. How are you, sir? It's nice to see you again.'
'Same here,' Latrelle said. 'You remember Mr. Aburrani, do you not?'
'Certainly,' Brannigan said.
The Afghan shook hands with the two SEAL officers. 'Your victory is complete, gentlemen. You have every reason to be proud of yourselves.'
'Not exactly,' Brannigan said. 'The big chief got away. All we've got is a prisoner of war, and he's a Russian who claims to have been held by the mujahideen and forced to fly a helicopter for them. He told me the warlord escaped in the one surviving chopper. His two field commanders are evidently among the dead.' Brannigan turned and waved at Senior Chief Buford Dawkins and Chad Murchison. The two had a man between them, and they brought him over.
Gregori Parkalov saluted the colonel and nodded to Aburrani. 'I am asking for asylum and for return to Soviet--er, that is--Russia.'
'It would seem repatriation to your country could be arranged,' Latrelle said. 'How long have you been here in Afghanistan?'
'Twenty years,' Parkalov answered. 'I am taken prisoner when my helicopter is shot down by partisan enemy.' He looked over at Aburrani and started to say something, but the Afghan frowned at him as a silent signal he mustn't reveal that they knew each other. The Russian turned his attention back to Latrelle. 'I am most happy to answer what questions you have for me to ask.'
'You can return to Kabul with Mr. Aburrani and me when we go back,' Latrelle said. 'Our intelligence people will want to have a friendly visit with you. Afterward, if things work out, I'm certain you will be turned over to the Russian embassy there.'
'Thank you,' Parkalov said.
'Meanwhile,' Latrelle said, speaking to Brannigan, 'we are going to fly over to the warlord's stronghold. I can tell you confidently that he is defeated and most of his army is wiped out. However, he has great influence in this area and Mr. Aburrani has assured me that he will be most cooperative with us due to the drubbing he suffered here yesterday.'
'That is most true,' Aburrani added. 'He will be useful in the pacification program of the government. Our contacts have assured me that he is ready to practice the Pashtun custom that is called nanawatey. He has admitted defeat and is willing to humble himself before us in total surrender, as well as beg for forgiveness.'
Brannigan's voice was cold when he said, 'I'd like to put a bullet in the son of a bitch's skull.'
'Now, Lieutenant,' Latrelle said, 'this is just one of many atypical situations that arise in our work in Afghanistan. Believe me, nanawatey is a very serious custom. You are to be congratulated for your efforts in bringing this about. It is the best kind of victory as far as the local people are concerned.'
'I'd still like to put a bullet in the son of a bitch's skull:' Brannigan insisted.
'I need to see a very quick change in your attitude,' Latrelle said seriously. 'You will be going with us to Khamami's fortress. The fact that there are only fourteen of you will serve to impress him and his people of the fighting qualities of the American armed forces. The rifle platoon over there is also for show, but they are fully armed in case of trouble.'
'That's fine, sir,' Brannigan said. 'By the way, I have two KIA buried on West Ridge where we had our base camp. I would appreciate it if arrangements can be made to have them disinterred and returned home.' He reached in his pocket and pulled out a slip of paper. 'These are the GPS coordinates of the graves. We also cached a lot of equipment. Some of it is personal property of platoon members. They would like to get it back.'
'Of course, Lieutenant,' Latrelle said. 'I'll have this information radioed to Kabul. That can be taken care of today. Your equipment and possessions will be put into the Navy's administrative and logistic channels.' He nodded to Aburrani. 'Are we ready to go?'
'Indeed,' Aburrani replied.
'You and your executive officer can fly in the first chopper with Mr. Aburrani and me,' Latrelle said to Brannigan. 'The rest of your men can take the second.'
Dawkins took Parkalov by the arm. 'I'll get everyone aboard.'
.
OUTSIDE WARLORD KHAMAMI'S FORTRESS
1000 HOURS LOCAL
HASSAN Khamami had set up a large tent some fifty meters from the entrance to his fortress. A carpet had been put on the floor and cushions provided for seating. The warlord and his new chief lieutenant, Amet Kharani, sat inside. With the deaths of Major Malari and Captain Tanijai, Durtami's former assistant had been promoted to this new prestigious post. Now he and the warlord hardly spoke a. word as they unhappily waited for the arrival of their expected visitors.
'Amir!' a guard at the entrance called out. 'We can see helicopters flying in this direction.'
'Very well,' Khamami replied in a resigned tone of voice. Although he hid it well, the loss of his field commanders grieved him deeply. They were old comrades who had shared many episodes of danger with him. Their loyalty and friendship went far beyond mere professional relationships. Khamami took a deep breath of resignation, glancing over at Kharani. 'Please go to welcome my guests.'
Kharani got to his feet and walked from the tent in time to see six helicopters settling down to a landing. Their rotor blades blew up clouds of fine dust along with small pebbles that peppered the tent behind Kharani and the guards. When the engines were cut, Kharani spotted Aburrani getting out of one of the aircraft, with three American officers. One was in a starched, press BDU while the others appeared as if they had been rolling in the dirt. The Pashtun walked over and bowed low.
'Pakhair,' Kharani said, making a Pashto welcome that only Aburrani understood. 'It is good to see you again, Brother Aburrani.'
'Likewise,' Aburrani said. 'Does the warlord await us?'
'He is in the tent,' Kharani said. 'Follow me, please.'
He led the four visitors to where the pair of guards on duty salaamed respectfully to them as they entered. Khamami was on his feet, but immediately dropped to his knees, leaning over until his forehead touched the carpet.
