Oh, no. There was a long line of guys, maybe twenty, maybe more, coming right at us.
I saw them.
They saw me.
They screamed.
I reached into my web gear and produced a grenade.
They screamed again.
I pulled the pin and pitched the grenade far down the pipe, then threw myself over Hila as three, two—
My satellite phone started ringing again.
One.
I cupped my ears as the grenade went off with a blinding flash and rush of air, as the men shrieked now, and I suddenly rose, damning my ringing phone to hell, and unleashed salvo after salvo through the smoke and gleaming debris.
Then I screamed ahead, told them to run away or die, I think. Something pretty close.
The pipe grew very quiet, save for my ringing phone. I cursed, pulled it from my pocket, and realized it’d been General Keating on the line.
Aw, damn. I’d get with the old man later. I switched off the phone, picked up Hila, and eased my way forward as far ahead, footfalls sounded, though no flashlights lifted my way. I neared the area of the explosion, saw how the concrete had been blasted apart, then realized the earth above had nothing to support it. Below were a half dozen men shredded into bloody heaps.
I reached up with my finger to check the stability of the ceiling, and that was when the entire section of earth came down on top of me. It all happened so fast that I didn’t realize how much dirt had fallen until I tried to move my legs. Trapped. I managed to bring up one arm and brush it from my face. I spit dirt, then glanced up… and there it was about a meter above, an open hole and the stars beyond. The gunfire popped and cracked, and two mortars exploded somewhere beyond.
I started writhing back and forth, trying to free myself, when I heard more voices. I wasn’t sure which side of the tunnel they were coming from. I began to panic, shoving my arm more violently and trying to kick. The earth to my right began to give away, and suddenly I fell sideways and out of the pile, sliding down a hill of dirt that was spreading to Hila.
“Ghost Lead, this is Predator Control. Thirty seconds, and you are still too close to the drop zone, over.”
“Roger that,” I said, then coughed. “I’m moving out. You just do your job!”
“Mitchell, this is Keating,” called the general as another video box opened in my HUD. “I’ve been trying to get a hold of you, son! Your orders have changed!”
So I ripped the Cross-com off my head and turned it off. It was a little late for that shit.
The passage through the pipe was completely blocked. I thought if I could get us up on top of the pile, I might be able to push Hila through the hole and up top.
But I had no idea what we’d find up there. I needed to chance a look for myself. I climbed back up, pushing back into the dirt, and up through the hole until my head jutted out. I was facing the mountainside, muzzle flashes dancing across the ridgelines. I turned around to face the village and saw at least forty Taliban fighters racing directly toward me running behind a pair of pickup trucks with fifty-calibers mounted on the back, the guns spewing rounds.
But then, from somewhere behind me came the hiss of rockets, and just as I turned my head, I saw an Apache roar overhead and the pickup trucks explode in great fireballs not thirty meters from my head.
I ducked back into the hole. The Predator controller was about to drop his bombs. I hustled down and grabbed Hila. I moved her higher across the dirt mound and toward our escape hole. I shifted around to try to shield her from the blast, then took two long breaths and listened for the first impact.
THIRTY
I tucked in as tightly as I could, and the next few seconds felt like a lifetime.
For a moment, I thought the controller had changed his mind or been ordered to abort.
But then, just as my doubts were beginning to take root, twin detonations, somewhat muffled at first, originated from behind us, well off into the basement. Not three heartbeats later came a roar unlike anything I’d ever heard, followed by a massive tremor ripping through the ground.
As the earthquake continued, a wave of intense heat pushed through the tunnel behind me, and I gasped and started dragging Hila higher toward the hole, fearing that all the air would be consumed before we escaped. That I moved farther up was the only thing that saved us from a wave of fire that rushed through the pipe. I kept groaning and dragging her higher, my boots slipping on the dirt, as dozens of smaller explosions began to boom, and I knew that was all the ammunition beginning to cook off. Then came a horrible stench as the opium began to burn. My eyes filled with tears, and for a few seconds I thought I’d pass out before someone grabbed my arm and began pulling me up.
There was screaming, but I couldn’t identify anyone above the cracking and booming from below, as well as more booming from the village as I was suddenly hoisted out of the hole and plopped down in the sand.
I blinked hard, saw Brown and Smith there, with Brown digging back into the hole and pulling out Hila. He was wearing the Cross-Com I’d given to Ramirez.
Behind us, the helicopters were still engaging the Taliban fighters on the ground, but most of them were retreating back toward the walls.
However, at least one machine gunner set up behind a jingle truck opened fire, and we all hit the deck a moment before the Apache gunship whirled around and directed a massive barrage of fire that not only tore through the gunner but began to shred the truck itself.
“I’ve got her,” yelled Smith, scooping up Hila and gesturing toward the mountainside. “The tunnel’s up there! Let’s go!”
Brown pulled me back up. “We locked onto your chip as soon as you got close to the top. You okay?”
“More than okay. I got Zahed.”
Brown was all pearly whites. “Hoo-ah! Mission complete, baby. Let’s roll!”
The three of us ran back toward the hills, with the choppers covering our exit. Brown was in direct contact with them, and he said that he’d sent the others off toward two rifle squads that had come up through the defile. They were bringing back one Bradley to pick up the girls. We took a tunnel I hadn’t seen before, which Brown said led up to one of the mountain passes.
As we neared the exit and emerged onto the dirt road, we looked down toward Senjaray and saw the Bradley pulling away. The girls we’d rescued were, I later learned, safely onboard.
We were almost home.
“Hold up,” I said, as we crossed around some boulders. We squatted down. “We need to get her out of here faster than this.” I looked to Brown. “Can we get a Blackhawk to pick her up?”
“I’m on it. But we’ll still have to get down to the valley over there.”
“All right.” I dug into my pocket, switched on my satellite phone, and saw there was a message from General Keating. I took a deep breath, dialed, and listened.
And my heart sank.
“I repeat, son, we need to pull you off this mission. Abort. Abort. Stand down…”
He’d said a lot more than that, but those were the only words that meant anything. Bronco hadn’t been bluffing.
At that moment, though, I was glad I hadn’t heard the message, but I wondered whether I would’ve shot Zahed anyway, despite the order to stand down.
I wondered.
I’d like to think that my experience and honor would’ve led me to make the right decision. But the politics and grim reality were far too powerful to ignore.
“Captain, you don’t look so good,” said Smith.
“The order to stand down came in, but I, uh, I guess I missed it. Zahed’s dead anyway.”
