Mitchell liked Gordon, whose white crew cut was trimmed weekly because being squared away was, in his words, the way God intended him to be. Mitchell appreciated Gordon's old-school tactics and belief that people made the difference. Technology only enhanced their skills.
There were some in the Special Forces community who were beginning to argue that putting boots on the ground had become too risky, too damaging, and too wasteful.
Gordon would refer to them by certain body parts and brush off their further assertions like lint from his sleeve. He was fifty-four years old and liked to say, 'I was too old for this crap twenty years ago. You can imagine how much I'm enjoying it now.'
The colonel said his good-byes, then suddenly bolted from his seat and shook each of their hands, saying, 'Gentlemen, excellent work out there. Excellent. Please, have a seat.'
'Sir, if you don't mind, I'll stand,' said Mitchell as Brown and Ramirez flumped into chairs.
Gordon frowned. 'I know, Scott, you're pissed about those insurgents at the pickup zone.'
Mitchell shrugged. 'I assumed they were on a rat line, holing up in the caves.'
'We're still working on that, but you're probably right. We didn't pick them up until you were already at the zone. More air support would've turned it into a fiasco.'
'What about the recovery mission? Still on?'
The colonel winced. 'It's been delayed until those insurgents are out of there. On top of that, we got another front moving through. Wind speeds are too high. We'll need to wait till that passes — at least eighteen, maybe twenty hours.'
'I'd like to be on that team.'
'I know you would, but that maniac Wolde in Ethiopia has got his eyes set on Eritrea, and I suspect higher will want you there. I already want you there.'
'Guess we're sleeping on the plane — again.'
'Captain, we appreciate you helping field-test the new Cross-Com,' said Major Grey. 'We'll need your evals ASAP, though I hear we're still three to four years out before full implementation.'
'That's a shame, because that's a damned fine system and a great piece of equipment.'
'Yes, it is — for many reasons. Now, Captain, I do have a question. I was playing back your HUD recordings, and I noticed you corrected the sergeants when they were evacuating agents Vick and Saenz.'
'That was our fault,' Ramirez blurted out. 'The medic was the most seriously wounded. We should have evaced him first.'
Grey barely turned toward Ramirez, who was already swallowing and lowering his head. 'Sorry, Major. Just thought you should know.'
'I already know.'
'Uh, to answer your question, Major, yes, I did correct them,' said Mitchell.
'Why?'
Mitchell thought a moment. He could answer carefully, or he could get it all off his chest. 'Let's back up a moment. I fought to be assigned to this mission. It was no secret that one of my best friends was out there. You knew I'd bring him home, and to be honest, I was going to make sure he got on that chopper—
'Even though agents Vick and Saenz might have intelligence that is far more helpful than anything Sergeant McDaniel might have gathered? They've been operating along the border for a long time — much longer than your…
'That's speculation. Those spooks might have nothing. And even if they have—'
'Once they've been treated, they'll be questioned.'
'Yes, but they'll only give you so much. We all salute the same flag, but don't forget their paycheck — and bonuses — come from Langley.'
Lieutenant Colonel Gordon sighed in disgust. 'Major Grey, to be quite frank, I don't give a rat's ass what order the captain used for his evac plan. In my book, that's trivial. Point is, they all got out. End of story. And to be honest, I would've done the same damned thing.'
'Thank you, sir.' Mitchell narrowed his gaze on Grey and thought a curse.
Grey quirked a brow. 'I just find it curious.'
Outside the hut, on their way back to the field hospital, Mitchell stopped and turned to Ramirez and Brown. 'You guys think I made a mistake?'
'Absolutely not,' said Ramirez. 'And don't let Howitzer get to you, sir. She was born pissed off.'
'What about you, Marcus? You don't look so sure.'
'I don't think it was a mistake, but…'
'But…'
'You know they're breathing down our necks, watching everything we do. If you show any bias at all, they know about it. That's all I'm saying. We've always been clear where we stand with you, sir.'
Mitchell nodded. 'It's the old reminder: don't let it get personal. I know. And if it were anybody else…'
'You did the right thing, sir,' Ramirez said. 'You heard the colonel. And what the hell did they expect? If they were so worried about you showing bias, they would've denied your request to lead this mission. Come on.'
'Yeah. Well, there's no love lost between us and the CIA, and this didn't help. I think that's Grey's problem. I've put her in an awkward position.'
'Like you said, we're all on the same team,' said Brown. 'Those spooks will figure that out. And they'll get over it.'
It took another fifteen minutes to reach the hospital, and once there, Brown and Ramirez went off with Diaz to grab something warm to drink while Mitchell checked on Rutang.
To his surprise, Rutang was sitting up in bed, awake, an IV already in. A nurse there said they'd already drawn blood and that they'd had him scheduled for X-rays because of the blunt trauma to his head and face.
'Yo, Tang, what's up?' asked Mitchell in his best spirit-lifting tone.
'Scott, I think I'm done. Stick a fork in me.'
'Whatever they drugged you with is wearing off. Your eyes look good.'
'Don't change the subject. I told you, I'm done.'
'Done with what? Filling your bedpan?'
'Between this and the Philippines…'
'Uh, let's see, you've had two missions that went south out of what, a hundred? It's like plane travel. You only hear about the crashes.'
'That's what my cousin keeps telling me. The bastard just made colonel, too.'
'Good for him. But we're talking about you.'
He closed his eyes. 'When they were beating me, I just kept thinking about Mandy and the kids, about how selfish I am for wanting to do this and how they were going to lose me — when this is the time they need me most. Everybody warns you about having a family.'
'That's a cop-out.'
He snapped open his eyes. 'Then why is everybody single or divorced? Look at you.'
Mitchell made a face. 'Rutang, this isn't the time for career decisions. You focus on recovery.'
'Yeah, whatever.' He glanced away.
'Listen to me, bro. They'll come in here tomorrow, and they'll ask you a million questions. And can you do me a favor?'
'What?'
'Just don't be a wise guy. Answer the questions. The people I work for are not very patient.'
'Who do you work for?'
'Those very impatient people.'
Rutang rolled his eyes. 'I won't embarrass you. And there is something I need to tell them. It's small, but you never know. When the captain's team got close to the arms dealers, they got out the big ear and eavesdropped on
