Chapter 18
Rad took the stairs two at a time and burst through the door of the room where he’d been told the reporter was waiting, almost as violently as if he were on a raid. Once inside, he slammed it closed behind him. “What are you doing here?”
The woman, who stood with her back to him staring out the window, didn’t turn around until the last trace of the exiting helicopter disappeared over the mountaintop. “That’s not exactly the greeting I was expecting, Rad.”
“That doesn’t exactly answer my question.” Rad ran his gaze over the woman he hadn’t laid eyes on in person for nearly three years. Her blonde hair was pulled back and there wasn’t a strand of it out of place. She wore khaki pants that clung tightly and boots with at least a two-inch heel—hardly war-zone attire.
“You look well.” Angela Powers ignored his curtness as she moved toward him. “It’s good to see you.” She threw her arms around his neck even though he did nothing to return the embrace. “Is this any way to treat an old friend?” she whispered before kissing him on the cheek.
Rad wiped the red lipstick off his face with his hand as he took a step back. “Old friend? You mean ex-fiancée don’t you?”
She let her arms fall to her sides. “Really, Rad? You’re still jealous after all this time?”
“Jealous?” Rad laughed. “Of what?”
“Oh, come on.” She gave him a pitying look. “I married someone wealthier and more powerful than you could ever be. I’m sure it has to hurt.”
“I’ll admit it hurt when I came home to find my apartment cleaned out and a note on the table.” Rad stood with his hands on his hips, staring at her. “But do you want to know what hurt the most?”
She shook her head, looking up at him with wide open eyes as if expecting him to tell her he’d been left with a big hole in his heart.
“What hurt the most is that you never gave me the opportunity to thank you for saving me from the biggest mistake of my life.”
Angela’s mouth dropped open at the insult, and then slammed shut just before she turned her back on him to stare absently out the window. “Who was that woman?”
The hair on the back of Rad’s neck rose. “What woman?”
She smirked and glanced over her shoulder at him. “That woman.” She nodded toward the landing zone that was now empty. “The one you just said goodbye to.”
For the first time, Rad’s gaze fell upon the long camera lens sticking out of an expensive-looking tote bag on the table by the window. “None of your business, Angie.”
She whipped around. “It’s An-gel-a. Angela Powers.”
Rad rolled his eyes. “Yeah, I forgot. So, for the third time, what are you doing here An-gel-a?”
“What do you think? I’m a reporter. I’m here for a story.”
Rad looked at her incredulously. “Really? CNN sent you to cover a story in a war zone?”
Angela glared at him. “For your information, I volunteered. I happened to hear something big was getting ready to go down over here, and I wanted to get the story myself.”
“Oh, I see.” Rad’s heart thudded at the thought there was a leak about the mission already. “I don’t suppose you just happened to hear something from your husband, chairman of the Intelligence Committee.”
“He’s not like that. He won’t tell me anything.” She crossed her arms and turned away. “He’s got the disease of moral integrity.”
“Aw. That’s too bad,” Rad said sarcastically. He walked to the window and gazed absently at the landscape outside, trying to envision what Angie had seen and what she could infer from it. “So to make a name for yourself, you had to come and get the story firsthand.”
“Something like that,” she said. “Luckily, I have old friends who are sources in the field.”
“You do?” Rad turned around. “Who?”
Angela snorted. “You.”
Rad laughed out loud. “Not on your life, Angie.” He turned to leave.
“They wouldn’t have called you in to lead this mission unless it was big,” she said. “I’m not going home without a story.”
He stopped and whirled around. “Who said I was leading it?”
She smiled deviously. “Like I said, I have sources.”
Rad studied her a moment. “Well, sorry you wasted your time on this one. Win some. Lose some.” Again he turned to leave.
“Let’s put it this way.” Angela no longer tried to sound agreeable. “I have enough sources to find out who that woman is.”
The statement was made in such a threatening tone that Rad stopped with his hand on the doorknob. He didn’t say anything and he didn’t move.
“I know people. Men who will talk.”
Rad tried to sound calm and indifferent as he turned his head. “I know you missed the class on journalism ethics, but do you know anything about national security?”
“You seem awfully defensive of her.” Angela took a cigarette out of a silver holder and put it up to her lips. “And the way you two were acting out there,” she nodded toward the window, “well, it has made me curious.”
Rad stood perfectly still, trying to calm his pounding heart and decide the best way to proceed. Is she bluffing or does she suspect something? With Angie it was hard to tell.
“Anyway, Rad, I have a favor to ask.” Angela touched a lighter to the cigarette and took a deep drag as if her threat was now forgotten. When he remained silent, she looked up as if to make sure she still had his attention, and then continued the conversation.
“I need an introduction.”
Rad just stared at her.
“To your CO. McDunna.”
He laughed. “And you think I’m going to do that for you?”
“You are,” she said, casually, “if you don’t want the focus of my story to be on her.
“You don’t even know who she is.” Rad hoped that was the case anyway. Angela Powers was good-looking, manipulative, and with a senator for a husband, powerful. There was always the possibility she did have sources that would talk. Not likely here—but definitely in D.C. The enemy he faced on the battlefield was not the only, or even his most formidable foe. The bureaucrats, politicians, and liberal media had the ability to bring this mission to an end before it even began.
“I have a pretty good idea of what she is,” Angela said when he did not respond. “That’s enough to get me started.”
Rad blinked his eyes in disbelief. “So you would do a story based on your assumptions, not facts, possibly jeopardizing the lives of people serving their country?”
She shrugged. “Sure. I’m a journalist.”
“So I can either protect the life of one of my fellow Americans by giving you the introduction, or decline and possibly ruin her career at best… or conceivably, get her killed.”
“You needn’t put it so bluntly,” Angela said curtly. “I’m only asking you to make an introduction for heaven’s sake, not enter a torture chamber.”
Rad took a moment to contemplate the options and the risk. She could be lying about doing a story based on mere speculation—or she could be just malicious enough to be telling the truth. Was it worth the chance? He found it distasteful to introduce someone he loathed and did not trust to someone he respected, but the alternative could mean that an embedded American’s identity would be revealed. Just as significant, and possibly more dangerous, was that Pakistan and the entire international community could be alerted that something was about to happen. There were so many ways this thing could unravel. Having Angela Powers in country just quadrupled all of them.
On the other hand, there was no one in the world he trusted to handle the likes of Angela Powers more than McDunna. He would not fall for her seduction tricks or her power threats. In fact, he would be insulted by both.
Rad took a deep breath and studied her. She wanted a story, and it appeared she was willing to do anything to get it. He was dealing with a woman who was calculating, cunning, and controlling—and just spiteful a
nd vindictive enough to get someone killed.
“You know damn well I’m not going to jeopardize the life of a fellow American.”
“Of course I do.” She turned to pick up her leather tote bag, then looked over her shoulder and winked. “Let’s go.”
Chapter 19
After finding McDunna and reluctantly making the introduction, Rad returned to the empty briefing room and sat down. He could see the men were gathered around the picnic table outside again and assumed they were discussing the upcoming mission. He didn’t want to join them just yet. He knew there would be questions from Wynn, and he wasn’t ready to answer them. Hell, he didn’t even know if he had the answers.
Sitting down on the couch, with his head leaned back and his eyes closed, he thought about his conversation with Angie. Had he said too much? Acted too concerned? Had he and Lauren been too sociable out on the landing zone? Or was Angela just grasping for straws?
He groaned and sat up straight. Here he was worrying about Angie’s next move when his thoughts should be on Lauren. Had she landed yet? Even though McDunna had made light of her getting out of Pakistan to do the briefing, he knew she had a long ordeal to get back in. She would probably be dropped miles away from the village where she lived and would have to trek over dangerous terrain to either reach a pre-arranged ride or wait for cover of darkness and hike in herself. He knew she had the training, the background, and the smarts to do it—but it was still risky, and he hated the thought she would put herself in that type of danger. He hated even more that he had no way to contact her now, and no timetable as to when she would contact him.
Rad raised his hands to his head and rubbed his temples. Like Lauren said, he had to keep his focus on the mission. That’s what she wanted him to do. That was his job. He leaned back again and closed his eyes. The voices outside the window created a soothing hum that lulled him into a half sleep.
“You okay, man?”
Rad looked up to see Wynn standing in the doorway. “Yeah. I’m great.”
Wynn closed the door behind him and stared at Rad a moment. “Nothing personal, but you don’t look like it.”
Rad shrugged. He didn’t even know where to begin.
“So I take it you just found out with the rest of us.” Wynn sat down beside Rad. “That’s some tough shit to handle, dude. Especially at a time like this.”
“I’ll get over it.” Rad leaned forward with his elbows on his knees. “Anyone else say anything?”
Wynn nodded. “They figured it out. Be impossible not to.”
“Okay.” Rad stood. “I’ll come clean at the next meeting. I don’t want them to think I’m hiding anything.”
To synchronize their preparations for war, he had called team meetings where he handed out to-do lists like taking inventory, requesting gear, and prepping weapons and radios.
“You sure you’re good to go? To lead this thing?”
Rad looked over him. “Why wouldn’t I be? Same shit, different day.”
“’Cause you got a no-count love affair going on brother, that’s why.”
Although he was one of the most sensitive and emotional men Rad had ever met, Wynn was also a sparkplug for jokes and pranks. “I’m almost afraid to ask.” Rad gazed at him inquisitively. “What in the hell is a no-count love affair?”
Wynn leaned back and crossed his arms. “There ain’t no countin’ what you’ll do for it.”
Rad rolled his eyes. “Don’t worry. I got my head in the game, man. Not on her.”
And I’ve never wanted anything more than to get this guy. Rad gave his friend a smile and squeezed his shoulder. He was excited about this mission and felt honored to lead it. The man they were targeting had killed Americans and continued to organize fighters to ambush U.S. troops.
He wanted nothing more than to show the terrorists they had underestimated their enemy—in fact, picked a fight with the wrong one. This group of men had the skill and the courage to prove just that. They feared no one, and held back nothing, because they knew their enemy only understood one thing—brute force.
Rad glanced out the window at the sound of voices and watched a cluster of men hurry toward a vehicle parked outside. “Mail’s here.”
Wynn jumped off the couch. “Awesome!”
Mail was as close to a holiday as you could get on a military base. Rad walked out and leaned his shoulder against the doorway as the men ran around waving envelopes, acting like kids at Christmas.
“Radcliff, Michael.”
“Here you go, boss.” Pops took the stack of three letters and walked it over to Rad.
“Looks like you’re a pretty popular guy.”
Rad joined the other men, sitting on the ground with his back propped against the building. The first one he opened was from his mother in Texas. It was long and detailed and made him smile. She talked about everything from the weather to family matters, relatives, and general news about home. The next one, from his sister, was shorter, but it was filled with news from the states and an update on how Tara was doing. He hadn’t heard from her in more than two weeks and was relieved to finally get word.
When he got to the last piece of mail, Rad paused and turned it over. He didn’t recognize the handwriting, which was scrawled as if it had been written during a roller coaster ride. There was no address, just his name printed on a dirty, crinkled piece of paper that looked like it had been dug out of the trash.
Unfolding the letter slowly, he swallowed hard when he read the words:
Hey, Dude — Don’t worry about me. Just kick some ass. I got it on this side. – L.C.
“You okay?” Pops sat down beside him.
Rad folded the piece of paper back up and stuck it in his pocket. “Yeah, I’m fine.”
“Not bad news from home, I hope.”
“No.” Rad forced a smile. “It’s all good.” He stared into the horizon a moment as he visualized Lauren jotting down those words while heading back to Pakistan in the chopper. No wonder the writing was barely legible. She must have given the note to the pilot, who passed it on to someone else to put with the mail. They were words of comfort to him, yet written in such a way as to be inconspicuous if read by someone else.
“Looks like everyone’s about done.” Pops stood. “Ready to get this thing rolling? You’re the lead guy, you know.”
Rad nodded, although all he wanted to do was go back to his bunk and re-read the note. “Yeah, let’s go,” he said. “I got this.”
Chapter 20
Until they were given a “go,” Rad and his team had to continue to plan and prepare and think about the mission. The men fine-tuned things they didn’t like, but overall, they saw the true tactical genius behind it.
The first thing they examined was the infil. Tactics kept changing as the war had changed, and special operations were constantly being refined. The preference was to find a landing zone nearby and hike quietly to their target, taking the terrorists by surprise. In this particular situation, none of the routes worked. The location of the house and the mountainous terrain would require the team to walk up the streets, right through the center of town. The risk of getting compromised and the chance Ahmed would be alerted to the danger were too great with that avenue of approach. Flying in and roping down was the lesser of two evils. It would be loud, but it would be fast.
In addition to the assault teams clearing the buildings inside the compound, another team would rope in to act as external security. Two assaulters and a combat assault dog would patrol the perimeter to track down squirters—anyone who tried to escape. Two others, along with an interpreter, would deal with onlookers or local police.
Besides its location in a sovereign country and the fact that it was a Tier One target, there was nothing unique or difficult about the operation itself. In fact it probably wouldn’t be nearly as complicated or dangerous as the last mission this team had completed deep in the mountains of Afghanistan…
For that one, three assault teams had hiked in afte
r making their chosen point of entry by a landing zone a few clicks away. Following the point man, they’d moved in staggered formation down a narrow, rutted dirt road, following the contour of the mountain. They carried an arsenal of weapons—from pistols to machine guns—because once they hit the ground, there was a chance they’d need every extra bullet and grenade they could carry to get back out.
Their target was three separate houses, located pretty much side-by-side, and owned by brothers who were all arms dealers and violent criminals. The fact the houses were clustered together was helpful, but the fact they were located in the middle of an al-Qaida hotbed was not. Every military age man—or MAM—was considered an enemy combatant in this part of the world.
After hiking over dangerous mountain terrain, they passed into the town and advanced through a maze of narrow alleyways. Threading their way between houses, they needed no verbal communication to complete this well-orchestrated maneuver they had all done hundreds of times. Stepping over trash and avoiding sewer pits were the most difficult parts of the operation as they moved noiselessly in the dark toward their target.
When they neared the houses, everyone moved to their positions and checked in. “Alpha is set,” came over the radio.
“Bravo is set.”
“Charlie is set.”
Rad’s team moved forward wordlessly, creeping through the shadows to get a good vantage point of the building they would assault.
Rad heard Reese’s voice come over the radio. “Two sleepers on the front porch.”
Acknowledging the call, Rad continued moving. When he was about thirty feet away, one of the men on the porch sat up, stared straight at him, and picked up his gun. Rad froze but was not that concerned. As dark as it was, there was no way the target could actually see anything without night vision goggles like Rad was wearing. But when the man’s finger moved to the trigger, Rad tapped him with a suppressed shot no louder than a staple gun.
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