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the job done. Secure the town. Assist in building the

infrastructure.”

“They’re already talking about pulling me out. Giv-

ing me four months—if I’m lucky.”

“Well, you got the ball rolling now.”

He swore under his breath. “Maybe. So what’s next?”

“Well, I can’t trust you, but I still need this compa-

ny’s support to get my job done. Does the XO know

what happened?”

“Shoregan’s on my side. He’ll do whatever I say.”

“Don’t trust him. He wants your command, and I

could give it to him right now.”

“Scott, I don’t want to take this any further.”

“Yeah, because you got caught.” I snorted. “I don’t

care what you got on me. Bring it.”

“Just slow down, and think about what you’re

doing . . . one minute you sound like you’ll let me off,

the next you’re blowing the whistle.”

He was right. I was torn. I could still go against Keat-

ing’s wishes, burn Harruck, and back the old man into a

corner; however, if I did that, Keating could easily ruin me.

I glanced over to the wall, where Harruck had

proudly displayed pictures of his various tours. One on

the left caught my eye: our Robin Sage training. I stood

there with our class, with Simon at my side, his arm

draped over my shoulder.

So right there I reasoned that now I could better con-

trol and even manipulate him. The guilt persuaded me

to give him a chance.

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At the same time, I couldn’t help but see him as a

mindless cog in the wheel of socialism. Sure, we’d build

the locals an infrastructure, but they’d screw us over and

probably forget about us after we left. Nevertheless,

Harruck billed himself as a humanitarian—one who’d

been willing to sacrifice us for his “larger cause.” You

had to love that irony.

“Here’s the plan,” I began. “You get word out to the

village elders that the Taliban blew up the bridge and tried

to frame some of the local merchants. That way we save

face with Kundi and the rest of those idiots in the town.”

“I don’t think they’ll go for it.”

“Doesn’t matter. All we need is doubt. Just make

them think everyone is lying. Now, with the bridge out,

you’ll have a little more freedom to begin construction,

because the Taliban will use the shallowest part of the

river to cross, and they’ll have to move through the east

side and approach through the valley and our choke

point, so you guys can better defend against them now.

I’ll help your men set up some overwatch positions and

some gun emplacements.”

“So you knew that blowing that bridge would actu-

ally help my construction project?”

“Yeah, I did.”

“Then why didn’t you tell me?”

“I don’t know, Simon. You pissed me off the last time

we talked, all right?”

He flumped into his chair. “I still can’t have you

going into Sangsar and raising hell. And now that you’ve

blown the bridge, they’ll attack us again.”

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91

“Let them. They have to fight on our terms now.

Zahed’s army will get smaller and demoralized, and

then we’ll swoop in.”

“I can’t see this ending well, Scott.”

“It’s hard to see right now.” I found myself quoting

Keating and hating myself for that. “Our situation is

complicated.” I started for the door.

“So we have an agreement?”

I turned back. “What?”

“We call the chopper pickup a miscommunication, and

from here on out, I won’t interfere with your mission.”

“You’re damned right you won’t.”

“But can you do me a favor?”

I almost chuckled, and there was no hiding my sar-

casm. “Sure, we’re still bestest buddies.”

“Try contacting Zahed.”

“Excuse me?”

“Try to make direct contact with him. Maybe we can

call a truce. If we can get him talking, maybe your mis-

sion can change.”

“He’s a terrorist.”

“That hasn’t been proven.”

“I plucked a little girl out of there—and she told me

he’s a scumbag terrorist. That’s definitive.”

In truth, she hadn’t uttered a word about Zahed him-

self, but her eyes had told me enough.

Harruck went on with his speculation. “Maybe he

doesn’t have full control of his men. He’s a politician,

too. He wouldn’t condone that.”

“So it’s okay that I talk to the leader of an insurgency

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who rapes children in the name of saving these other

children over here.”

“Scott, we can debate this all night.”

“No, we can’t. And we won’t. The fat man will be

captured or killed before I leave. And if he’s not, then

I’ll be the one leaving in a body bag.”

I hurried out into the cooler air as two Hummers

came rolling by. Harruck had put the entire base on

alert, and all the engines and shouting made me wince. I

couldn’t wait to collapse into my rack. Maybe I’d wake

up back in North Carolina. I could tell Auntie Em that

I’d had a terrible dream about a sandstorm that had car-

ried me away to a land where camels had wings and no

one told the truth.

NINE

The next morning while I was in the mess hall, I ran

into Dr. Anderson, the woman from ARO, who’d been

given temporary quarters on the base to begin coordi-

nating with the engineers for the construction projects.

She remembered my name. I called her Dr. Anderson.

I didn’t want to get too chummy with her.

“Eating alone?” she asked.

My team had already chowed down, allowing me to

sleep in. They’d understood the night I’d had.

“Yes, I am.”

“Want some company?” she asked.

I glimpsed her blond hair, now flowing easily over her

shoulders. No veil required here. She was probably in

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her late twenties, early thirties. Just stunning. An oasis.

“Oh, I wouldn’t be good company right now.”

“Don’t underestimate yourself,” she said, following

me to my table and sitting across from me.

“Aggressive,” I muttered.

“I eat my dead.”

“Not bad—”

“For a bleeding-heart liberal, right?”

“I didn’t say that.”

She smiled. “Your expression did.”

“I told you, I’m not good company.”

“I don’t need your permission.”

“Then why’d you ask? What is this?”

“This is me taking on a challenge.”

“Oh, yeah, what’s that?”

“I don’t know what it is you do here, but I guess you

have some pull with Captain Harruck, and he’s a great

guy, doing everything he can to help these people. So

I’m wondering why you don’t support him.”

“So the challenge is to get me talking so you can find

out who your enemies might be on the base?”

“That’s how we recon. Same as you, actually. Keep

your enemies close, too.”

“I’m not your enemy. Just a skeptic.”

She took a bite of her toast, sipped her black coffee.

“And why is that?”

“I could tell you . . .”

“But then you’d have to . . .”