Sikes nodded. 'I'm finding all that a bit too much to swallow meself. I'd just as soon give them Yanks a good whipping, then get the Pashtuns back in their place. Then we can get on with taking over Afghanistan.'
'Be patient, Major Sikes,' the brigadier advised him. He smiled, saying, 'Could it be that you miss your little Pashtun wife?'
'I miss her, alright,' Sikes admitted. 'But we ain't married no more, since me and Cap'n Khadid was told to leave. That ended the marriage. It was a muta anyhow and supposed to be temporary by Islamic law.' He paused hesitantly for a moment, then said, 'I don't like to stick me nose in places where it ain't wanted, but I been wondering a bit if you have a wife or wives you miss.'
'I only had one wife,' the brigadier said. 'She died five years ago. We were, alas, a childless couple; thus I have no descendants. Nor are there kin of any sort. And I cannot muster the desire for another woman. I believe, for whatever reason, that Allah in his mercy does not want me to remarry. I am now an old soldier alone in the world.' He gestured around him. 'And here I am in this strange situation, tied down by puzzling orders issued by my government.'
'It ain't all bad, sir,' Sikes said. 'We do have some leeway in that we can carry on harassing tactics in any manner that suits us.' He leaned forward. 'I'm working on a couple o' plans, sir. When I get everything straight in me head, I'll bring 'em up.' He was thoughtful for a moment, then spoke again. 'I was wondering, Brigadier, that wot if we had some rotten luck and them Yanks kicked us out o' here, hey? Wot'd happen then?'
'I have heard no official word,' Khohollah said. 'However, in my personal opinion, almost the entire Iranian Army would be sent here to storm straight into Afghanistan and create a situation the Yanks--as you call them-- would find most disturbing. We will stay low-key as long as they stay low-key. But we are eventually going to conquer Afghanistan, then the entirety of the Middle East.'
Khadid smiled at Sikes. 'The preliminary steps we take on this journey to glory must be careful and deliberate, Sikes Pasha. At least at this point in time.'
'I understand,' Sikes said. 'But I don't like it one bluddy fucking bit.'
'By the way, Excellency,' Khadid said, 'I am due to make a transmission back to Iran this evening. Do you have any messages for the high command?'
'Only that we are moving along according to plan,' Brigadier Khohollah said. 'There is nothing negative to report. By the way, will you be using the radio in the signals center, Captain?'
'No, Excellency,' Khadid said. 'That will not be necessary. I still have the one I took to Orakzai's fortress.'
.
WESTERN AFGHANISTAN
JUNE 1600 HOURS
ENSIGN Orlando Taylor sat in the web seat aboard the Pave Low chopper, furtively studying the eight other SEALs who shared the aircraft with him. From their demeanors, anybody would think they were on their way to a peaceful picnic in the country instead of a violent confrontation in which men would be killed by other men.
Taylor had marveled about the fact that he had finally been under fire. Although he knew it wasn't a prolonged battle with many casualties, it was still combat. He had been scared, sure, but it didn't keep him from doing the job properly. He kept an eye on the situation, watched over his men, and coordinated everything through Petty Officers Paul Schreiner and Tony Valenzuela, who were his fire team leaders. When the SAW gunner Doug MacTavish had been hit, Taylor hadn't lost his head or flinched at the sight of the man's bloodied face. In fact, it had been he who pulled the wounded SEAL from the rubble of his blasted fighting position to safety. The best thing about the whole experience was that he had done nothing to shame himself or the Taylor family. He could openly and truthfully discuss the fighting with his father without fear of disapproval.
Taylor grinned to himself in a somewhat fierce manner as he thought of this latest experience in context with his three older brothers. As the youngest he had been the butt of jokes from those overachievers, who never accepted him as an equal. It seemed he would always be 'the kid' in the family. The oldest sibling, now thirty-two years of age, was a vice president in a very prestigious bank in Atlanta; the second, at age twenty-nine, was an aerospace engineer with NASA in Houston in the Shuttle Program; and the twenty-seven-year-old was on the staff of a Georgia senator, and being groomed by the state's Democratic Party to run for Congress in the next election.
Damn fine accomplishments, Taylor thought, but not a one of them has been in combat as a Navy SEAL. He hoped his father would take notice of the fact and mention it at every opportunity during the next family reunion.
THE helicopter came in low and slow at an altitude of four feet AGL. The rear doors were open and the ramp down as Lieutenant Bill Brannigan stood at the head of the line of men making up the combat patrol. At a nod from the crew chief, the Skipper went down the ramp and leaped off to the ground. He was quickly followed by Connie Concord, the Odd Couple, and Matty Matsuno, who carried a five-gallon jerry can of potable water attached to a backpack. Then Garth Redhawk with an AN/PRC-112 radio unassed the aircraft; Ensign Orlando Taylor, Bruno Puglisi, and Joe Miskoski were the last out. Everyone was armed with M-16s, with two exceptions: Puglisi and Miskoski carried their AS-50 semiauto sniper rifles with two bandoliers of modified twenty-round magazines for the weapons.
The chopper immediately rose back into the sky as the ass end closed. Brannigan led his eight men over to the cover of a stand of boulders for an on-site confab. But before the session could begin, an angry cobra emerged from the rocks with its hood flared as it assumed the standard upright pose of aggression. The Skipper gazed at the poisonous reptile. 'I think we have a territorial issue here.'
Puglisi, impetuous as always, made a slow approach toward the snake, evidently with the intention of trying to grasp it. Redhawk, who was well acquainted with the rattlesnakes of Oklahoma, did not think that a good idea. 'Bruno,' he said calmly, 'if that son of a bitch bites you, we won't have much time to make our good-byes to you. So let us know when you're going to make a serious move toward him, and we'll bid you a fond farewell. With luck you'll last maybe five minutes after he sinks his fangs into you.'
The snake darted its head at the SEAL, and Puglisi instinctively jumped back. 'I thought you could charm these motherfuckers.'
Joe Miskoski laughed. 'Bruno, you don't have a flute, like snake charmers use, you dumb shit.' Then he laughed louder.
'Besides, you're about as charming as a grumpy rhinoceros with gas and heartburn.'
Brannigan grinned. 'Let's try to be diplomatic like Dr. Joplin where that snake is concerned, okay? We'll just politely get out of his bailiwick.'
The patrol moved away from the natural rock pile toward another. The cobra didn't follow, but he was plainly going to stand his ground. Now the Skipper could concentrate on the job ahead. 'We're only a kilometer from the ambush site here, but I want to have a little briefback before we go over there.' He pointed to Puglisi. 'What's your job?'
'I'll be at the front of the ambush, and when the last man passes me, I'll whack the son of a bitch,' Puglisi said. 'Then knock off any of the bad guys who try to escape in my direction.'
Brannigan turned to Miskoski. 'What about you?'
'Well, we figured the enemy column isn't gonna be too strung out, since this is a safe area for 'em,' Miskoski said. 'So I'm gonna be down about thirty to forty meters from Bruno to close up the front. When the first man comes up even with me, I'll take him out.'
Next it was Connie Concord's turn. 'Ever'body is gonna find a good place between Bruno and Joe. We'll space ourselves out as even as possible, depending on the terrain and available cover. When the shooting starts, we'll go for targets of opportunity to our direct fronts.'
'Right,' Brannigan said. He nodded to Taylor. 'Ensign, describe the site.'
'Aye, sir,' Taylor said. 'It's a narrow pass through these hills with steep sides that go from ten to twelve meters deep. We'll set up only on one side, since the enemy cannot escape from the gully with any ease or speed. They, in fact, will have walked into a natural trap.'
'Okay,' Brannigan said. 'It's sweet and simple. Keep in mind that we're also tasked with getting EPWs if possible. If you see any guy that looks like he wants to quit or surrender, ease up. Questions? Right then. Let's move out and settle down. We won't have much to do until tomorrow morning. So, to quote the first and oldest military order ever issued, 'Follow me.' ' He started to move out, but stopped. 'Oh! One more thing.'
