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confined to the base. You’ll have to take that up with the
CO, sir.”
I did. Harruck was sleeping, but the XO spoke to us.
“Word came down. There are some boys from Kandahar
flying in to talk to you guys.”
“Army Intel?”
He shook his head. “Spooks.”
“Do you realize what you’ve done?” Bronco screamed,
and that was the edited version of his question, which in
truth had contained curses and combinations of curses I
hadn’t heard before.
He and his sidekick had escaped from Sangsar, gotten
treated for their gunshot wounds, and linked up with
their superiors. The group of four decided they would
interrogate the hell out of me all morning. I’d gri
the crutches both Bronco and Mikey had used to get
into the room.
With arms folded over my chest and a bored look on
my face, I repeated, “I don’t have to talk to you, and I
won’t. So piss off.”
Bronco attempted to describe the length and breadth
of their operation, and he leaned forward and told me
that I’d ruined years’ worth of work, murdered an unarmed
man, and that the agency would see me hang. Blah.
Blah. Blah.
I told them all where to go, then stormed out. They
couldn’t hold me. They couldn’t do jack. I went back to
Harruck and told him I was going to see Shilmani and
324 GH OS T RE CON
that if he tried to stop me, I’d have him brought up on
charges.
He started laughing and just waved me off. His laugh-
ter sounded more unbalanced than cynical.
Brown and I caught up with Shilmani at the shacks on
the outskirts of town. He was loading water and would
not look at me as we approached.
“Listen to me, please,” I began. “We got Hila. She’s
in the hospital. She’s okay.”
He froze at the back of his truck and just stood there
a moment, his breathing ragged before he began to cry.
I looked at Brown and turned away. I was choked up
myself. I could barely imagine what Shilmani was going
through. He had to convince himself that his daughter
was dirt now because his culture dictated how he should
think. In fact, if we didn’t get the girls to an orphanage
and simply call them “war orphans,” they would all be
arrested and sentenced to prison. That’s right. The sys-
tem did not distinguish between victims of rape and
those who willingly had relations outside marriage.
“Do you want to see her?” I asked.
“I can’t.”
“You would have been so proud. She fought at my
side. And she saved my life.”
“Scott, don’t tell me any more. Please . . .”
“Why don’t you take your family and get the hell out
of here? There’s got to be a way out.”
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325
He finally looked at me, backhanded away the tears,
and said, “This is my life.”
By late in the day I got called to the comm center and
learned that General Keating was waiting to speak to me.
“Mitchell, you make it damn near impossible for me
to get your back when you play it this close to the vest. If
the president weren’t distracted by twenty other prob-
lems, I’d be pulling KP in the White House mess.”
“I understand, sir. And I’ve been ru
course here myself.”
Okay, I was speaking through my teeth, and though
I highly respected the man, I wanted to unload on him,
too. He’d had no idea what I’d just gone through, but I
wasn’t about to cry on his shoulder.
“I’m pulling you back to Fort Bragg. I’d advise you
to lay low but I know you don’t work that way, so once
you’re back home you’ll be confined to quarters. We’ll
put on a show until JAG takes its best shot or you’re last
month’s news.”
“Sir, Joey Ramirez is still MIA.”
“I know that, son, and the search will continue. But
we’ve got Warris ru
ruin your career. I want you out of there.”
“Warris is an asshole. Sir. He’d bitch if you hanged
him with a new rope. It’s my word against his.”
“For now, he doesn’t need witnesses, Mitchell. Because
I believe him.”
326 GH OS T RE CON
“Sir?”
“Easy, son. I agree. He’s a fool. But I know he’s tell-
ing the truth—because I know you. And your men. But
between him and the CIA, they’re not going to back
off. I’ve got to deal with it.”
“Where does all this leave me, sir?”
“From where I’m sitting, this operation has become a
perfect storm of botched communications. And because
of the political ramifications in Kabul, as well as here,
higher’s out for blood. It’s why they have officers, son.
Someone’s got to fall on his sword. Someone will take
the fall for this mess.”
“And blood flows downhill . . .”
“It’s Newton’s law, Scott. Simple as that.”
I closed my eyes and massaged them. “I understand,
sir. For the good of the service . . .”
“That bastard Zahed needed killing, and you gave it
to him. You did a fine job, soldier, no matter what you
hear, no matter what they say.”
“But you still don’t have my back, do you, sir?”
He took a deep breath, looked torn—
And broke the co
By di
were being driven to Kandahar, where we’d catch the
first of many flights back home.
They’d refused to allow us to participate in the tun-
nel search, but before we left, Harruck sent a man out to
fetch me. The guy led me to a small tent behind the
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327
hospital, the makeshift morgue, where Ramirez lay
across a folding table.
He’d been shot in the head. Point-blank.
“Oh, dear God,” I said aloud.
“Any other wounds?” I asked one of the other sol-
diers there.
“Nope. Must’ve caught him by surprise.”
I cursed and rushed out of there.
And all I could see was Warris raising a rifle to Ramirez’s
head and pulling the trigger.
I found the punk lying in his bunk, staring at the ceiling.
He had no time to get up. I leaned over him and screamed,
“YOU KILLED HIM, YOU RAT BASTARD, DIDN’T
YOU? YOU KILLED HIM! YOU KILLED HIM!”
I guess Brown had seen me ru
quarters and had come after me because he burst
through the door and rushed over, believing I was going
to strike Warris. He grabbed my wrist and hung on.
Warris started cursing and told me I’d lost my mind
and why the hell would he kill Ramirez?
“Because he knew you were going to blow the whistle
on all of us. And he probably threatened you, didn’t he?
He told you if you talked, he’d kill you, right?”
A guilty expression came over Warris, and he tried to
hide it by tightening his lips.
“You killed him!” I repeated.
“Your career is over, Mitchell. It’s all over now. You’re
old news. Even the Ghosts are a waste. Every other agency,
State, DoD—the entire alphabet tribe—undermines what
we do. We’re history.”