Yes, sir, Charlie Sikes answered. I'm Archie's father. Won't you come into the parlor then, sir? Make yourself comfortable.
Falkes followed him from the hall and sat down on the small sofa across from an easy chair. Sikes took the latter seat, while his wife settled down on one of the arms next to her husband. Both had worried expressions on their faces, and they waited nervously for the caller to speak.
Have you heard from your son?
Why, no, sir, Sikes said. Does your asking mean he's alright?
There has been no information, as you know, Mr. Sikes, Falkes said. No insurgent group in Iraq has revealed him as their prisoner. Nor has a corpse been found. He pulled a notebook from his inside coat pocket and looked at it. According to the records, your son Archibald Sikes was an excellent soldier. Worked his way up to the rank of sergeant in record time.
Yes, Sikes said. Archie were a strange lad, I'll not deny it. But when he put his mind to something, he always came out bright as a new penny.
He was approved for a commission, but was turned down when he applied for it in the Royal Regiment of Dragoons, Falkes said. Was he angry about that?
Yes, Sikes said. He was quite disappointed, was our Archie. He felt slighted because the officers said he wasn't good enough to be one of 'em.
Why was he so insistent on serving as an officer in that particular regiment when he could have gone to almost any other?
Now Mrs. Sikes joined in the conversation. I suppose 'cause that was the regiment he had enlisted for. He had recruiting papers and folders and such before he joined up. He chose the Royal Regiment of Dragoons after weeks of thinking about it.
I understand that the very same evening after his interview for officer training, he went into London and got into a drunken brawl, Falkes said. That started a downward spiral and he ended up being a private once again. And he never straightened up after that.
That's a sad fact, sir, Sikes said. Then he went to Iraq.
Did he mention to you before he disappeared that his conduct was so bad there that he was going to be sacked by the Army when they got back to Blighty?
Sikes looked at his wife, then back to Falkes. He never said nothing about that.
And you've not heard from him? Not a phone call nor letter nor messages from him given you by other persons?
Sikes shook his head.
Would you describe his mood as bitter about everything that went wrong?
O'course he was bluddy bitter, Sikes said. He was a noncommissioned officer and recognized for doing a good job; then they same as told him that he wasn't good enough for their officers' mess. I never heard of such a thing! I mean, it's the twenty-first century, ain't it?
Right, Falkes said. He stood up and put the notebook back in his pocket, then produced a card, handing it to Sikes. If you do hear from him, call this number. It's most important, Mr. Sikes.
Mrs. Sikes's voice trembled. Is Archie in trouble, sir?
Believe me, Falkes said, if he does contact you, it will be to your and his best advantage if you let us know straightaway. And if he's deserted, the best thing he can do is turn himself in. Good evening.
Falkes walked from the room to the hallway and out the front door with Sikes and his wife following. They watched the man get in his car and drive off. Sikes looked at the card. The bastard! The goddamn rotter! He's an Army copper, that's what that bloke is.
Then Archie truly is in trouble, ain't he, Charlie?
Yeah, Nancy, Sikes said. Our lad is for it, no doubt. He snorted a sardonic chuckle. Not that I'm very surprised.
.
SHELOR FIELD VICINITY
15 APRIL
0700 HOURS
THE Brigands' desert patrol vehicles rolled across the hard-packed terrain at a steady fifty miles an hour on the new run-flat tires. The Skipper had been forced to work out various groupings for attack, defense, and movement. Unfortunately, he had no experience in motorized warfare. After pondering the problem, he decided to apply the same platoon combat formations used on foot.
Now, speeding across the desert, the SEALs were in a platoon line formation that was designed to put all their firepower to the front with the three teams side by side. It was an excellent arrangement to use when attacking a strong enemy in a known location. The commander/drivers all dressed down toward the left, where the Skipper and his Alpha Team rolled along.
Platoon column! Brannigan ordered through his LASH headset. The detachment moved over into line with Alpha in the lead, Bravo in the center, and Charlie bringing up the rear. This was actually a basic formation that simplified overall control during long movements from one point to another.
After knocking off a couple of kilometers of distance, the Skipper called for a platoon vee. Now both Bravo and Charlie teams were side to side to the front, with Alpha centered behind them. This would provide heavy immediate fire in case of enemy contact to the front, but was hard to control at times. The Alpha Team, however, could move back and forth behind the Bravos and Charlies to lend a hand where needed.
Platoon wedge! came over the LASH headsets. Now the Alphas were to the front, with the Bravos to the rear and left and the Charlies to the rear and right. This allowed heavy volumes of fire to the front and both flanks.
The maneuvering continued until the detachment could flow in and out of the various combat formations with ease and speed. The M-2 gunners within their firing positions had a hell of a time, however, as they were up higher than anyone else and caught the blasts of the dust-laden wind straight in their faces as the detachment sped across the expanse of the Afghan desert. Even the goggles and kerchiefs didn't help much at maximum speeds.
At 1030 hours, Brannigan called a halt to the proceedings. The water in their canteens had gotten tepid by then, but felt wonderful to their parched throats. The morning's training was topped off by a lecture from PO2C Bruno Puglisi, who gave a short talk on the proper workings of the Javelin antiarmor missiles. They learned that the CLU was attached to the disposable tube loaded with a HEAT projectile. The whole thing weighed forty-nine and a half pounds. The NVS utilized IR light for the gunner when the weapons were employed during hours of darkness or fog. The missile locked on the target and the on-board processing system guided the projectile where it had to go. With a range of 2000 meters and able to penetrate up to more than twenty-three inches of armor, it was a potent weapon.
When everyone fully understood the workings of the Javelins, they each shot off three missiles for familiarity. The SEALs concentrated on the lesson, knowing that the next time the launchers were fired, it would be done in anger and for real.
.
USS COMBS
SATELLITE PHOTO ANALYSIS
1600 HOURS
THE photographer's mate, Ernie, gazed at the cathode-ray tube that displayed satellite and aerial photos in a three-dimensional mode. The space image he now studied had just arrived aboard from Station Bravo. As he perused the screen, his pal Ned typed the labels to put on manila folders the pictures would be stored in.
Hey, Ernie said. What area is this?
Ned looked at the paperwork that arrived with the package. Western Afghanistan and eastern Iran. We've had this piece of ground sent to us before.
Mmm, Ernie said. Can you pull some of the older ones out of the file for me? I want to check something out.
Sure. Ned walked over to the file cabinet and thumbed toward the back until he found what he was looking for. He took them over and dropped them at Ernie's elbow, chuckling. Y'know something? Nobody has ever come down here and asked us for any of these photos. You're the first guy I've had to go to the files for.
As long as they find me on payday, I don't give a shit, Ernie said. He put an old photo in the scanner, sending
