the workers just walked off the job. They just . . . left . . .”

“What?”

“I don’t know what’s going on, sir, but I’m willing to

bet it all goes back to Kundi.”

“That’s a safe bet,” I told the XO. I stood. “I’m gearing

up. I’m taking the team out tonight. We’ve got actionable

intel on Warris’s location. We’ll find him. And maybe we’ll

find Zahed.”

Harruck was already shaking his head. “There’s noth-

ing to talk about here. Like you said, they’ll kill Warris,

the offensive will happen, and all my work here was for

nothing. Actionable intel is just an excuse for C-4 and

gunfire.”

I raised my brows. “I’m taking one more shot, and all

I need is a little evac if it all hits the fan.”

“You’re dreaming, Scott.”

“I’m not. If I can find Warris—if I can do that, they

won’t have to launch the offensive. If I can take out

Zahed, that’s icing on the cake.”

“We’ve got more enemies than the Taliban here.

Bronco wants Zahed rich and alive and feeding the

agency information. Kundi wants the status quo. Even

the people here would rather deal with Zahed. We’re the

only idiots that want him dead. If you kill him, the Tal-

iban will retaliate.”

“We’ll dismantle and demoralize them. By the time

I’m done, they won’t know what hit them.”

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263

“I don’t believe you anymore, Scott. And I can’t sup-

port you.”

“I know when it comes down to it, you’ll do the right

thing. You won’t leave me hanging out there.”

He took a deep breath. “Just get out.”

I returned a lopsided grin. “Thanks for the drink.”

T WENTY-FIVE

The satellite images that Gordon had provided were both

excellent and disconcerting. The tunnel entrance where

Warris’s signal had last been detected overlooked the north-

east side of Sangsar, so we’d need to hike through one of

the mountain passes off the main road, then hike another

half kilometer to reach the top and descend down to the

tunnel, all the while making sure we were not spotted.

With the men gathered inside our billet, I went over

the hardcopy images, indicated our route, and asked for

suggestions about our evac.

“Any word on CAS?” asked Brown.

I gave him the usual look.

“Not even a Predator?” asked Hume. “I mean, Jesus

God, we’ve lost men up there. Not even a friggin’ drone?”

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265

“I’m working on it,” I said. I had sent Gordon the

request. Even if we couldn’t get fire support, the Predator

guys could pick up the thermal images of guards posi-

tioned near and around the tunnel entrance. I’d said we

were willing to take any kind of intel via sensor because

anything that’s a sensor has to talk to everybody else.

“Before we leave, I want to put something on the

table,” said Ramirez, his voice growing uneven.

My heart might have skipped a beat. I cautioned him

with my gaze, which he met for only a second.

“What’s up?” asked Brown.

“Look, nobody’s said anything about it, but we need

to talk.”

“Joey, I know where this is going,” said Treehorn.

“We’re all in this together. We don’t need to do that.”

“I think we do,” Ramirez said, raising his voice.

“Because if we rescue Warris, then he’ll start squealing

like a freaking pig—and we’re all going to pay for that.”

He looked at me. “Warris is not loyal to the Ghosts. Not

the way we are. Isn’t that right, Captain?”

I just shook my head. Was he threatening me now?

“I am not having this conversation,” said Brown,

raising a palm. “I am not going there.”

“YOU HAVE TO GO THERE!” Ramirez shouted

at the top of his lungs—

We all froze, shocked by the outburst.

Brown whirled back, leaned over, and got squarely in

Ramirez’s face. “No, I do not. So you’d best shut up

now, Joey. Just shut up.”

Ramirez began to lose his breath. “He tried to relieve the

266 GH OS T RE CON

captain of his command. The captain refused. We refused to

acknowledge him. We’re all going down if Warris talks. All

of us! It’s like we’re going out to save the guy who’s going to

chop off your heads! What’s wrong with that picture?”

“Why are you so worried?” asked Treehorn. “I don’t

give a rat’s ass what that punk says. It’s his word against

ours. Screw him.”

“Harruck will back him up,” said Ramirez. “I’m tell-

ing you, if we rescue his ass, we’re done, busted down to

regular Army, maybe even discharged.”

“I’ll take all the heat for that,” I said, my tone in

sharp juxtaposition to his. “No worries, guys.”

“You can try to take the heat, but that won’t matter,”

said Ramirez. “He’ll try to hang us all. And I’m not

going to let that happen. Not for a second.”

“Then what’re you saying, Joey?” asked Brown.

“You know what I’m saying.”

Treehorn threw up his hands. “Aw, no way. I’m not

listening to this.”

“Look, we do everything in our power to rescue him,

but unfortunately, he doesn’t make it back—”

“Oh my God,” said Hume with a gasp. “Joey, are you

insane? Do you know what the hell you’re saying?”

“THIS AIN’T A GODDAMNED WAR! IT’S NOT!”

he shouted.

I looked at Ramirez. “Maybe you’re going to stay

behind.”

“No, sir.”

“Then you’re done talking. You’re just going to shut

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267

up and do your job—and our job is to rescue one of our

brothers and bring him back. And that’s what we’re

going to do. Do you all read me—loud and clear?”

They boomed their acknowledgment.

I pointed a finger at the door and glowered at Ramirez.

“Outside.”

We shifted out together, with the heat of the team’s

gazes on our shoulders.

He paced and shuddered like a rabid dog.

“I need you tonight. You’re one of the best guys I’ve

got,” I began.

“We can’t rescue Warris.”

“You’re getting all bent out of shape for nothing.

Who knows if we’ll even find him? Worry about him

barking later. Not now.”

“We can’t trust anybody, can we?”

“What’re you talking about?”

He shrugged, then squinted toward the setting sun.

“This place . . . it’s driving me crazy.”

I nodded. “It’s the sand. Just gets everywhere.

Shower doesn’t even help . . .”

He sighed. “No way to get clean. Not here.”

“Look, bro, I can’t do this without you. I need my

Bravo team leader sharp and ready. We’re good. You

should know that. We’re good.”

“Okay. But Warris . . . I just don’t know.”

“Don’t do anything stupid.”

“That sounds like a threat.”

“No. It’s an order.”

268 GH OS T RE CON

He took a long breath, cursed, then started back toward

the billet.

I echoed his curse.

At about two A.M. local time, we borrowed a civilian