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turing out to hunt down and eradicate the enemy. We

were to win over the hearts and minds of the locals by

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9

improving their living conditions. Once we made them

our allies, we could enlist their help in gathering human

intelligence on our targets. In many cases, intel from

those locals made all the difference.

Nevertheless, I remember Lieutenant Colonel Gor-

don, our Ghost Commander, having several four-letter

words to describe how effective that campaign would

be. As a Special Forces combatant, he believed, like I

once did, that you needed to spend most of your time

teaching the people how to fight so that after we left

they could defend themselves. However, if their enemies

were too great or too overwhelming, then we should go

in there like surgeons and cut out the cancer.

Zahed, our commanders believed, was the cancer.

What they hadn’t realized was how far the disease had

spread.

“Ghost Lead, this is Treehorn. In position, over.”

Doug Treehorn was the sniper I’d brought along,

much to the chagrin of Alicia Diaz, my regular operator.

Alicia had done tours in Afghanistan before, and I’d

had no qualms about taking her along, despite the chal-

lenges of being female in a nation where women were

treated . . . let’s just say differently. That she had taken a

fall and broken her ankle two weeks before being

shipped out ruined my initial game plan.

Treehorn was good, but he was no Diaz.

The others reported in. We had the complex cordoned

off, and with Less Than Lethal (LTL) rubber rounds to

stun guards before we gassed them into unconscious-

ness, the plan was to neutralize Zahed’s force, then slip

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GH OS T RE C O N

soundlessly inside the compound and capture the man

himself. No blood spilled. Special Forces surgery. I mean,

could we make it any more politically correct? We were

going in there to take out a man whose soldiers routinely

blew themselves up at the local bazaars, but we were try-

ing our best not to hurt anyone.

Well, I’d told my guys that if push came to shove, we’d

go live. I’d hoped it wouldn’t come to that, if only to

meet the challenge. As I’d told the others before ascend-

ing the mountains, “This is not rocket science. And it

ain’t over till the fat man sings.” Zahed was pushing three

hundred pounds, according to intelligence photos and

video, and we pla

operations in the region, including the smuggling of

IEDs manufactured in Iraq and rumors about Chinese

and North Korean electronic shipments into the country.

I know I’m making Zahed sound like a real scumbag,

but at that time, things seemed pretty clear. But I hadn’t

been there long enough, and I never thought for one

second that we Ghosts and the rest of our military might

be causing more damage than anyone else. We were

there to help.

“All right, Ghosts, let’s move out.”

I issued a voice command so that my computer would

patch me into the Cross-Com cameras of the others, and

I watched as the guards fell like puppets. Thump. Down.

And then my men, who wore masks themselves, hit the

bad guys with quick shots from a new CS gas gun we

were fielding. The gun issued a silent burst into an ene-

my’s face.

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11

Ramirez crouched before the lock on the front gate

while I rushed down from my position and joined him.

It was a cool desert night. A couple of dogs barked in



the distance. Laundry flapped like sails on long lines

that spa

lamb that had been roasted on open fires was getting

swallowed in the stench of the CS gas. I checked my

heads-up display: two twenty A.M. local time. You always

hit them in the middle of the night while they’re sleep-

ing. Again, not rocket science.

Ramirez, our expert cat burglar, picked the lock with

his tool kit and lifted his thumb in victory. I shifted into

a courtyard as Treehorn whispered in my earpiece: “Two

tangos. One to your right, up near that far building, the

other to your left.”

“See them,” I said, the Cross-Com flashing with more

signature red outlines that zoomed in on each guard.

Like most Taliban, they wore long cotton shirts draped

over their trousers and held to their waists with wide

sashes. The requisite beards and turbans made it harder

to distinguish among them, but they all had one thing in

common: They wanted to kill you.

I lifted my rifle, about to stun the guy on the right,

who stood near a doorway, his head hanging as though

he were drifting off.

Ramirez had the guy on the left, the taller one.

Static filled my earpiece and the images being sent via

laser from the monocle into my eye vanished.

Just like that.

The lack of data felt like a heart attack. I’d grown so

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GH OS T RE C O N

used to the Cross-Com that it had become another

appendage, one abruptly hacked off.

My first thought: EMP? Pulse wave? We’d lost com-

munications, targeting, everything. And I never for one

second thought the Taliban could be responsible for

that.

Ramirez shifted over to me as he kept tight to a side

wall beside the courtyard. “What the hell?” he asked,

voice muffled by his mask.

Without warning, two shots boomed from the dis-

tance: Treehorn. He’d taken out both guards with live

fire. I wanted to scream at him, but it was too late.

“We’re clear!” I shouted to Ramirez. “Let’s go.”

I’d barely gotten the words out of my mouth when

salvos of gunfire resounded all over the compound. I

listened for the telltale booming of my team’s rifles

echoed by the popcorn crackle of the Taliban’s AK-47s.

Everyone had gone weapons free, live fire.

At the same time, the whir of the Cypher drone’s

engines resounded behind me, but then the drone banked

drunkenly and dove toward the courtyard, crashing into

the dirt with a heavy thud followed by the buzz of short-

circuiting instruments.

The enemy was using electronic countermeasures?

They had taken out our Cross-Coms and drone?

Impossible.

We were in rural Afghanistan, where electricity and

ru

Ramirez and I ripped off our masks and switched

magazines to live ammo. We reached the main door of

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13

the building, wrenched it open, and shifted inside, where,

in flickering candlelight, two robed Taliban turned a cor-

ner and spotted us.

One hollered.

I dropped him with a sudden burst and Ramirez

caught the second one, who was turning back.

I don’t want to glamorize their deaths or emphasize

our bravery and/or marksmanship. I emphasize that we

had made the concerted effort to minimize casualties and