assessed the damage we’d caused to the bridge and estimated it would take four to six months to complete repairs. We wouldn’t be in country long enough to see that happen, I assured him.
One night I took a four-man team into the mountains to run some long-range surveillance via Cypher drone and make another attempt to lure out the Taliban and their disruption devices. Nolan flew the drone in low enough for them to have heard and seen it, but there was no response.
“Ghost Lead, this is Jenkins. Suggest we move in past the wall, over.”
The guys were trying to goad me into a close recon of the village, but they always did that. They’d grown restless and longed for the sound of gunfire. They didn’t need good intel or just cause — just a clear night and full magazines. I was supposed to think responsibly.
“Negative. Hold position.”
“You’re not listening to Harruck, are you?” Ramirez whispered to me from his position at my elbow.
“No reason to swat the hornets yet,” I said.
“I don’t know, boss. Something’s gotta give.”
I glanced over at him; he was right.
The next morning, Marcus Brown woke me from a sound sleep. There was trouble out in the old poppy field where the Army engineers had proposed to drill the next well.
Kundi was there, causing a big ruckus, as were Harruck, Anderson, and a half dozen other engineers and construction supervisors.
Brown and I drove out there, and Harruck pulled me aside and told me I “wasn’t involved.”
“That’s fine. So I’ll just watch. And listen,” I told him, my tone making it clear that I wasn’t going anywhere.
“So what’s the bottom line?” one of the Army engineers asked Kundi.
“That’s it,” said Kundi, who was waving his hand over the broad area within which the drilling would occur. About fifty yards to the south lay the base of the foothills — a mottled brown moonscape of pockmarks and stones rising up toward orange-colored peaks. “You cannot put the well here. Over there, on the other side of the field, yes.”
“But we’ll have to drill a lot deeper over there,” said the engineer.
Kundi shook his head.
“Why not? Is this some kind of sacred ground?”
Kundi frowned and looked over to Burki, who in turn cast a quizzical glance at Shilmani, whom they’d obviously brought along to translate. He did, and Kundi nodded vigorously. “Yes, yes. God is here!”
I turned to Brown. “You know what God wants? He wants ground-penetrating radar and metal detectors all over this area.”
Brown nodded. “Hallelujah.”
A couple of days later, Harruck caught up with me in the mess hall and wanted an explanation for my request to have a team go out into the field with radar units and metal detectors. I’d had to put in those requests through regular Army channels, Gordon had told me, so Harruck’s interference came as little surprise.
“Kundi’s hiding something out there,” I said.
“So what if he is?” Harruck asked. “If we instigate him, the agreement goes south.”
“We need to have a look.”
“We’re telling him we don’t trust him if we got guys sweeping the ground out there.”
“Tell him I lost my watch.”
“Don’t be an ass, Scott. Who knows why he doesn’t want a well over there? Maybe he plans to grow cannabis there, plant cherry trees, who knows? So we move the well to the other side of the field. No big deal. Drill a little deeper. If he’s got a bone buried — or an opium stash — out there, I don’t want to know about it. Not right now, anyway.”
“So you’ll look the other way on that, too.”
“I’m just taking my time. So should you…”
“That a threat? Because we both know where this will go.”
“Scott, this whole damned country is full of thugs and gangsters. You’ll run out of fingers to point. So let’s move on.”
Harruck took his tray to another table to join the rest of his officers. Anderson was at a nearby table, and she came over to me and said, “Have you seen the site yet? We’re breaking ground for the school.”
I shook my head.
“You look finished here. Why don’t you come out and take a look?”
I shrugged and followed her outside. She had a civilian car, a Pathfinder, and she drove me over to the construction site, where at least fifty workers were placing broad wooden footers in the ground. Several concrete trucks were parked behind us, and piles of rebar and pallets of concrete blocks were stacked in long rows.
“All these guys that you hired… they’re from the village?”
“Some from this one… some from the others… but we’ve had a little problem, which is really why I brought you out here…”
“You weren’t trying to soften me up? Turn me into a humanitarian or something?”
“No. I need you to be a killer.”
“Excuse me?”
“Oh, I figure you’re intel or spec ops or something…”
“I’m just an adviser.”
“Right…”
“How many classrooms in this building?”
“Six. It’s going to be beautiful when we’re done. And the police station will be right out there. See the stakes?”
I shielded my eyes from the glare and noted the wooden stakes that outlined the L-shaped building.
“Yeah, we’re going to build it, and they’ll come and blow it back up.”
“You mean Zahed?”
I shrugged.
“Maybe not. I think Zahed is forcing the workers to give some of their pay to the Taliban. And I think when the school and the police station open, he’ll try to control the police. He’ll close down the school, too, but not right away — if he thinks he can make a buck.”
“What makes you think he’s blackmailing the workers?”
“At the end of the week when they’re paid, three men come around, and they form a line. I’ve seen them giving some of their money to those guys.”
“You pay them in afghanis?”
“It’s the only way.”
“Tell you what? The next time that happens, come find me. I’ll have a talk with them.”
“Thanks.”
“Why didn’t you bring this to Captain Harruck?”
“I did. He told me that it wasn’t any of my business what the workers did with their money.”
“Maybe it isn’t.”
“I just… I don’t like it. Feels like we’re in bed with the Taliban.”
I grinned crookedly and told her I needed to get back.
Three things happened at once when I reached my quarters:
Nolan was telling me I had an urgent call from Lieutenant Colonel Gordon…
Bronco had come onto the base and was screaming at me to have my two bulldogs chained up and to stop following him…
And a young captain I’d trained myself at Robin Sage, Fred Warris, was standing at my door, waiting to speak to me.
