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self and eat good, you will have a good day of fighting.
I want to tell you about my dad, who was also a sol-
dier. He died in Iraq while trying to protect us. He was
a very great man and he told me that whenever I see a
soldier I should thank him or her. So while I ca
you, I still want to thank you for helping us and for
believing in our country. My dad always said that no
matter what happens, he loved us and the United States
of America. My dad said being a soldier is a great
honor, so maybe I will be one someday, too. I hope you
can stay happy. I know it is hard.
Thanks very much.
Your friend, James McNurty, Jr.
“See this?” I tell Blaisdell, pulling the letter from my
breast pocket. “This is the only thing keeping me sane
right now. Some kid in Huntsville actually believes in
what we’re doing.”
She sighs. “That’s nice. But they’re going to argue
334 GH OS T RE CON
that you should have answered your phone, that you
ignored incoming communication and killed Zahed, an
unarmed man.”
“My mission was to kill him. I carried out my orders.
The abort came too late. I was the commander on the
ground, I saw the opportunity, I made the decision, and
I completed the mission. That’s what you’re going to
argue. If higher can’t make up their minds about what
to do, then it’s my job to make that decision.”
“They’re not going to see it like that. You’re asking
them to take responsibility for their broken system, and as
you’ve implied, even General Keating can’t save you now.”
I snort. “Is there anything else you need? Did you get
it all? Because I’m going to be very busy for the rest of
the day, trying to get drunk.”
She rises and pushes her glasses farther up her nose.
“Off the record, Captain, I’m very sorry about what’s
happened to you. In some respects you’re a victim of the
system, but you had a choice. You could have at least
tried to take Zahed into custody. And they’re going to
argue that, too. You simply shot him. They’ll argue that
you wanted to kill him.”
“You’re damned right I did.”
She starts to say something, thinks better of it. “I’m
going to review all of this with my colleagues, and I’ll
contact you tomorrow.”
I shrug and lead her to the door. She looks back at
me, a deep sadness filling her eyes, as though she’s
glimpsing a man at the gallows.
Then she just leaves. I get another drink, plop into
CO MB AT O P S
335
the recliner, and turn on ESPN, where I learn that even
the Reds lost their game, 9–4, damn it.
I must’ve dozed off and the knocking at my door con-
tinues for a while until I suddenly rush up and answer it.
“Holy shit.” The curse escapes my mouth before I
can censor it.
It’s General Keating himself, out of uniform, wearing
a golf shirt and Dockers. He pushes past me, slams shut
the door, then lifts his voice. “What the hell are you
doing here? Feeling sorry for yourself?”
“I’m confined to quarters.”
He goes over to my window and snaps open the
blinds, letting in the late-afternoon sun. “I flew in this
morning. Then I spent the whole day in a videoconfer-
ence with those assholes in Langley.”
“Well, I’m sorry I upset your day.”
“Don’t flatter yourself, son. Some of your tactics might
give me heartburn, but you ain’t got enough horsepower
to put a dent in my day. I think you underestimated Har-
ruck. That boy went to bat for you big-time.”
“What do you mean?”
“He used his friend, the humanitarian worker, to do
some digging. Turns out that little girl you saved wit-
nessed Bronco and Mike on the scene of Warris’s tor-
ture, and they failed to report any of it.”
I frown. “Then Warris can burn them, maybe get
me off?”
He shakes his head. “We called in Warris. He made a
336 GH OS T RE CON
deal with the CIA to keep his mouth shut, so long as
they helped him burn you.”
“He admitted that?”
“No, Bronco and Mike did. I can’t get to those two,
but I’m kicking Warris out of the Army for conduct
unbecoming.”
“So Warris wanted to bring me down with the CIA’s
help. His plan backfires, and he gets burned himself.”
“Enough justice for today.”
“Ramirez might disagree. Doesn’t he count?”
“An Article 118 murder charge is out of the question.
However, integrity’s what you do when nobody’s look-
ing. You won’t find that in the UCMJ. That’s why War-
ris is history.”
“What about me? Am I free?”
“You’re going on temporary duty to Walter Reed for
evaluation.”
“What? You think I’m crazy?”
“Nah. I might if you’d answered that phone. Scott,
you bivouacked a long time in that fucking valley of
woe. Let’s placate them for now, okay?”
I sigh deeply.
“Look, son, this has been tough for all of us.”
“Tough? A hangover is tough. This has been a god-
damned nightmare, and yeah, maybe I should sit my ass
in a psych ward so I can decide whether I want to do this
anymore . . .”
“Are you kidding me? When you get out of the hospi-
tal, I’m promoting you to major. You’ll be general by the
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337
time I get through with you. I told you the Army’s
changing, and we old-school boys need to adapt.”
I couldn’t hide my twisted grin. “One minute I’m
going to Leavenworth, the next I’m being promoted.
I’m crazy. The system’s crazy . . .”
Keating crosses to the kitchen, lifts my empty scotch
bottle. “You’re crazy drinking this crap. We only drink
Glenfiddich single malt. Didn’t I teach you that?”
“You did, sir.”
“All right, then, pack your bags, soldier.”
“I will. But first I want you to read something.”
I hand him the note written by James McNurty, Jr.
He reads it, then looks up, a sheen now in his eyes.
“Being a soldier is a great honor,” I remind him. “But
are we honoring the profession? Or maybe, just maybe,
they’re asking too much of us. Just a little too much.”
He takes a deep breath, returns the letter, then says,
“Hurry up and pack. Then we’ll get some real scotch.”
Novels by Tom Clancy
THE HUNT FOR R ED OCTOBER
R ED STOR M R ISING
PATR IOT GAMES
THE CAR DINAL OF THE K R EMLIN
CLEAR AND PR ESENT DANGER
THE SUM OF ALL FEARS
WITHOUT R EMORSE
DEBT OF HONOR
EXECUTIVE OR DERS
R AINBOW SIX
THE BEAR AND THE DR AGON
R ED R ABBIT
THE TEETH OF THE TIGER
DEAD OR ALIVE
(written with Grant Blackwood)
SSN: STR ATEGIES OF SUBMAR INE WAR FAR E
Nonfiction
SUBMAR INE: A GUIDED TOUR INSIDE A NUCLEAR WARSHIP