cleaned me up to make the videos. I’ve barely had any-

thing to eat or drink. I’m dying.”

“Easy, we’ll get you something,” whispered Brown.

“They got MREs down here.”

Within two minutes, Hume came dashing back with

the clothes and a concerned look. “I heard some crying

up there,” he began, cocking a thumb over his shoulder.

“You know what I’m thinking . . .”

“Give me that goddamned ladder,” I barked.

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“Captain, do we really have time for this?” asked Brown.

“Indulge me for three minutes,” I said. “While you

clean him up and get him dressed.”

I dragged the ladder back up to the next hole in the

ceiling, ascended, and stepped into another chamber with

more boxes of MREs. A narrow tunnel led to a second,

even wider area where a few lanterns burned brightly.

My mouth must’ve fallen open.

Girls ranging in age from perhaps twelve or thirteen

up to seventeen or eighteen were dressed in tattered

clothes, bound and gagged, and sitting along the wall, a

few sleeping, others staring blankly at me, and a few

more crying through their gags.

At the far end of the room was a sleeping area piled

high with pillows and blankets, and I shuddered as I

imagined what went on there. Zahed would, of course,

deny any wrongdoing; he could blame it all on his men,

argue that in some respects he did not have control over

them. And, of course, he’d be lying. He allowed this to

go on, and in doing so, created a nightmare for the par-

ents of these poor girls.

I caught a blur of movement from the corner of my

eye, and then from a tunnel exit near the back came

another fighter. I raised my silenced pistol and put two

rounds in his heart. I wanted to put fifty.

I whirled back, lowered my shemagh, and in Pashto

said to the girls, “I will help you.”

One girl in particular fought more violently against

her binding and gag. As I crossed to her, she began to

look familiar, and then, with a start, I knew she was

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289

Shilmani’s daughter, Hila. I heard him screaming again,

“They took my daughter!”

They’d tied up the girls with cheap nylon rope and

gagged them with scarves. I untied Hila’s gag, and she

moved her mouth, licked her lips, and began to speak in

a rapid fire that I didn’t understand.

“It’s okay . . .” I said in a soothing tone.

She surprised me. “Thank you. I . . . what they did . . .

I cannot see my family again . . .”

“You speak English?”

“My father taught me.”

I grinned weakly in understanding. “Okay. That helps.

All I know is, we’re going to get you out of here. All of

you. Do you understand?”

“Yes.”

“Can you tell them for me?”

She nodded. I finished cutting her arms and legs free.

She stood and spoke rapidly to the girls, who all began

nodding. Brown came rushing into the chamber, took

one look at the girls, at me, and said, “Jesus Christ.”

“We’re getting them out.”

“Are you kidding me?”

“Nope.”

“Aw, this has really gone to hell! We came here for

Zahed, and we’re going home with them!”

Hila turned back to face me. “You came here for

Zahed?”

I leaned over and nodded slowly.

She glanced away, a pained look coming over her face.

“He is very bad man.”

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“Yes, he is.”

She pursed her lips, glanced back at the girls, as if

thinking it over, then said, “I know where he is . . .”

All the intelligence assets of the U.S. government had

been unable to locate the fat man, in part because the

intelligence they gathered was being corrupted by Bronco

and his associates. Nevertheless, I would never, for the life

of me, bet that the location of my target would be spoon-

fed to me by a teenaged girl who’d been taken prisoner.

When I reflect and calculate the odds of what had hap-

pened, how I’d met Shilmani, how Hila had come to rec-

ognize me, what had happened to her and how she’d come

to learn where Zahed was located, I could only blame fate.

Or the merciless universe.

Because if I hadn’t listened to her, if I’d just dragged

them out of the cave and gotten out of there, I would’ve

only had to deal with keeping Warris quiet—

And not the rest of it.

“Help me cut ’em free,” I told Brown. “Come on,

come on.”

The words escaped my lips, and not two seconds

later, the chamber quaked and dust fell from the ceiling.

“What the hell?” Brown gasped.

“Captain!” cried Hume. “I hear gunfire coming from

somewhere outside! And mortars!”

“We have to move now, Scott!” added Warris.

“We’re coming! We’ve got some girls up here. They’re

coming down. We’re getting them out!”

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291

As Brown freed the girls, Hila told them where to go,

and one by one they took off running.

“They made us drink wine,” she told me as I cut

another girl free. “They made us do things.”

“I know. It’s okay.”

“No, it’s not okay. I am filthy. I am not a woman any-

more. I am a dog.”

I looked at her, grabbed her hand. “You’re not a dog.”

“But I can never go home.”

She started removing the gags from the remaining

girls and reassuring them, while the guys kept scream-

ing for me to come. The final two girls dashed off.

“All right, get them and Warris out of here. Ramirez

and the rest of Bravo should be waiting for you,” I told

Brown.

“What about you?”

I lifted my chin to Hila. “She knows where Zahed is.”

“Boss, what if she’s wrong?”

I widened my gaze on Hila. “Are you sure?”

She gave an exaggerated nod. “I hate him. He was

the first one to have me. I know where he is.”

“Oh my God,” Brown muttered under his breath.

“I’m going with her.”

“Not alone,” said Brown. “You fight with your buddy.”

I shoved my silenced pistol into Hila’s hand. “That’s

right. She’s my buddy.”

She looked at me, scared, the weight of the pistol

causing her shoulder to droop.

“You’re crazy,” said Brown. “This is crazy!”

“Just listen to me, Marcus. I need you to protect

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Warris. I need you to get him out. I’m worried about

Joey, you know that.”

“I know, boss. I won’t let Joey do anything stupid.”

“Good. ’Cause I’m betting Warris won’t talk.”

“Me, too. He owes us. Big-time.”

“All right, so when you get out, contact Gordon. Tell

them to track my chip. You’ll know where I am.”

“Will do.” He thrust out his hand. “See you soon,

you crazy mofo.”

I gave him a firm handshake. “Thank you, Marcus.”

Then I turned to Hila. “Which way?”

My father raised three sons and a daughter, and my sister

Jenn was unquestionably Daddy’s little girl. The old

man was a hardcore disciplinarian with us boys, but my

sister could get away with bloody murder. As a kid I