by Peter Telep
‘We need to find Delgado,’ said Pepper.
‘That’s up to the major,’ Ross said.
Adamo lifted his hand for a farewell shake. ‘Well, Captain, Sergeant, maybe someday we can all get together for a beer. Until then, stay sharp.’ Adamo gave them a curt nod as he shook hands, then faced the Marines and cried in Spanish, ‘What kind of disorganized dumb-ass bullshit is this? Bag up those bodies and get ’em loaded. Let’s go, Marines!’
NINETEEN
As they humped back through the jungle toward the trucks, minding their steps and the booby trap markers they’d set in place, Kozak asked Pepper to go back over the intel they’d received from Adamo:
‘So the guy who died was the cabdriver.’
‘Correct.’
‘And the guy we let go was really the package.’
Pepper sighed. ‘There it is.’
30K, who was standing beside Kozak, said, ‘That sneaky little runt. He was right there all the time. Son of a bitch!’
Pepper closed his eyes. ‘I’d like to get my hands on him for just ten seconds.’
‘Hey, it ain’t all bad,’ said Kozak. ‘Mission accomplished. The package was rescued. Our cover remained intact. And the Colombian special forces guys get credit for bringing down a cocaine lab, a narcosub, and the dry docks. Woo-hoo.’
‘Yeah, woo-hoo,’ said Pepper darkly. ‘But this ain’t over. I just hope the major agrees with me.’
‘Oh, he will,’ said 30K. ‘And when we’re done with that little lollipop kid, he will definitely believe in Ghosts.’
Kozak had heard enough of the chest drumming, so he drifted back toward the captain. ‘What do you think, sir? You think we’ll be going after him?’
‘Not sure yet,’ said Ross. ‘No word back from Guardian. For now, we deliver the cabdriver’s body.’
‘Do we know what really happened?’
‘I’ve been playing it over and over. We’ve got the FARC, Los Rastrojos, and some new Islamic terrorist group in a possible alliance. We’ve got a missing CIA agent who was either trying to expose this alliance or was part of it. We have a connection via the sub’s parts to a port city in Libya.’
‘Man, it all sounds very actionable to me.’
‘Me, too.’
Kozak braced himself. ‘You mind if I ask you something?’
Ross gave him an odd look.
‘Oh, it’s nothing personal. Just curious. How’d I do?’
‘What do you mean?’
‘Out here.’
Ross almost smiled. ‘Let the After Action Report reflect that Staff Sergeant John Kozak performed his duties admirably and in the best interests of the United States Army.’
Kozak didn’t hold back his grin. ‘Thank you, sir. Just want you to know that I, uh, I really believe in this. You know, what we’re doing. I’m always thinking about all the people who came before us, the guys who died for our country. What we’re doing is important – even if we’re getting screwed over by the CIA.’
Ross finally beamed. ‘I appreciate that, buddy. I really do. And I’m glad you’re not too pissed off having to take orders from a Squid.’
‘No, sir.’
‘You think I’m a Squid?’
‘Sir, I didn’t say that, sir.’
‘Relax, I’m just messing with you.’ Ross lowered his voice. ‘Only guy I’m worried about is 30K. He’s got an issue with me, doesn’t he?’
‘He’s cool, sir. I wouldn’t worry.’
‘You don’t sound like you believe that.’
Kozak hesitated. ‘He’s got some trust issues with everybody. Sometimes I think he’d rather operate alone. Funny because he’s one of those guys who’s always had a problem with authority figures, and he winds up in a place full of authority figures. Ironic, huh?’
‘Yeah.’
Kozak thought a moment. ‘You know what? You should ask him about his nickname.’
Ross chuckled under his breath. ‘Are you serious?’
‘That’ll get you talking.’
‘Okay, but I have to be honest. I figured you guys already had a name for me.’
Kozak shrugged. ‘Not that I know of.’
Once they had reached the Hummers and the M35, Ross told Pepper he was riding with 30K, and that drew the man’s curious stare.
‘It’s not that you smell, but I want to talk to him,’ Ross whispered to Pepper.
‘Ah, gotcha. Good idea.’
Ross climbed into the passenger’s seat of the lead Hummer, settled in, then looked over at 30K. ‘What’s wrong?’
‘You’re riding with me?’
Ross nodded. ‘Yeah, Pepper smells.’
30K smiled. ‘He does, doesn’t he?’
‘Seriously, I thought we should talk.’
30K swore and said, ‘What’d I do now?’
‘Nothing. Start the engine. Let’s go.’ Ross leaned back and tapped the leg of the Colombian SF guy manning the fifty. ‘Stay frosty, big guy. They get another chance to ambush us, they will.’
‘No problem,’ said the gunner.
30K led the convoy of vehicles out of the clearing and back down the jungle road, the potholes now filled with water, the cab rattling like Ross’s father’s old ’68 Ford pickup. The once gray sky had washed off into streaks of gray and white as the storm’s feeder bands passed through.
They sat in silence for a few minutes, then Ross cleared his throat and asked, ‘Why don’t they call you Jimmy?’
‘They could, but everyone calls me 30K.’
‘Where’d that come from?’
‘If I tell you, sir, you have to promise you won’t share the story with anyone – and you won’t turn me in.’
‘Are you about to confess to a crime?’
‘Sort of.’
‘Maybe you shouldn’t tell me.’
‘No, I think you’ll like it. It involves the CIA. See, when I was in Afghanistan, this CIA ops officer I knew was paying off this warlord to get intel. But the warlord was a real dick and screwing everyone over. He was storing all this cash – I’m talking about American dollars – in his compound. So me and a few guys were out on patrol and got wind of this. We broke in there one night and stole the money. We split it up. We each got 30K. It was my plan, so the guys started calling me 30K. And ever since then, the name stuck. Later on, I felt bad about it. I was telling myself that the CIA was wasting American tax dollars and we were doing a service by saving the money and pumping it back into the economy. But that still didn’t feel right. I spent about a thousand bucks on booze, then I gave the rest to charity.’
‘Wow, that almost sounds like a plot from a movie.’
‘I know, right? But that’s how I got my nickname.’
‘So how elaborate will the story be this time?’ asked Pepper, who was behind the wheel of the second Hummer.
Kozak shrugged. ‘He’s a pretty amazing bullshit artist.’
‘Maybe he’ll tell Ross the truth.’
‘The truth? I wonder if he even knows the truth. Every time someone asks him about his nickname, he comes up with a different story. He told Ferguson he won 30K in the lottery so his friends started calling him that. He told me an old girlfriend gave him the name, that it was also the name of a mom and pop bar where they’d met.’
‘And he told me his father said he’d never amount to anything, that the most he’d ever make in his life was 30K a year, which you told me is bullshit because his father left when he was a baby, so he never met the guy.’
‘Yup. So who the hell knows why they call him 30K. But there it is …’
Pepper nodded. ‘So, you had a little talk with Ross.’
Kozak nodded.
‘And how’d that go?’
‘Very well.’
Pepper’s voice softened. ‘I want to share something with you, just so you don’t get into trouble with him.’
‘What is it?’
‘I found out some stuff about Ross through a mutual friend. Before he joined
the Ghosts, I’m talking about a couple of years ago, there was an accident. His little boy was killed. Broke up his marriage. Nearly ruined his life. You know it’s hard, but if you try hard enough, you can get past the deaths of your buddies in combat. We all know what we signed on for. We know the risks. We go on in their name, their memory.’
‘That’s right,’ said Kozak.
‘But losing a child … how do you let that go?’
Kozak pursed his lips. ‘You don’t. So what’re you saying? You think Ross is messed up?’
‘No. I just get the feeling that he’s still torturing himself over it.’
‘You said it was an accident.’
‘I don’t know the details, but I just got that feeling. Anyway, I think he jumped at the chance to become a Ghost so he could get away from it all. New job, new people, you know, not be around everyone saying, “I’m so sorry.” Trouble is, I screwed up. I told him I knew. I told him I’m sorry, and he really locked up.’
‘Then don’t talk about it.’
‘Damned straight. Don’t bring it up.’
‘Unless he wants to talk about it.’
‘Yeah. Leave it up to him.’
TWENTY
30K sensed that Ross didn’t believe his story, but he didn’t care. The captain was trying to have a feel-good moment, and 30K figured he’d be cordial but wouldn’t go out of his way to be buddies. He’d rather maintain a professional relationship until Long John Silver proved himself –
And the only way that would happen was over time, over blood, sweat and tears.
The record was one thing. The ‘show me in the field’ was another, and while Ross had earned himself a few points during this operation, he had a long way to go, and 30K would be there every step of the way, keeping score.
‘Anything you want to know about me?’ Ross asked.
‘Not really, sir.’
‘I see.’
A particularly awkward silence followed, then suddenly 30K blurted out, ‘You married?’
‘Divorced.’
‘She got sick of the long deployments?’
‘Not exactly.’
‘I don’t care what they say. If your wife is hot, and you’re gone more than half the year, she’s going to cheat on you. It’s not a physical thing for them, it’s an emotional thing, and they need that. If you’re not there to give it to them, then they find it someplace else. It’s nature. No one can stop it.’
‘So yours cheated on you?’
‘Cheated? I never let it get that far. I like a nice twenty-four-hour relationship. Doesn’t give ’em much time to cheat.’
‘Sounds like you keep a tight schedule.’
‘Hell, yeah.’
‘Works for now, but when you get to be my age, you start thinking about a family.’
‘Damn, that’s the last thing I want. My mother raised me alone. My piece of shit loser of a father walked out when I was a baby. I’d kick his ass now if I saw him.’
‘That’s too bad.’
‘Yeah, I guess I got some daddy issues. Not sure I’d ever know how to be a father.’
‘Maybe one day. That kid looks into your eyes and calls you Dad. That’s hard to beat.’
‘How many you got?’
‘I had one. A little boy.’
‘She got him in the divorce?’
Ross didn’t answer at first, and when 30K looked over at him, he had his eyes closed.
‘Sir, you all right?’
‘Yeah, man. Let me call the major back. Harass him a little. See if he’s got new orders.’
‘Cool.’
30K swallowed and adjusted his grip on the wheel. Whatever happened to the captain’s little boy didn’t sound good. Mental note: Don’t go there again.
Still, the captain’s honesty regarding his personal life had just scored him a few more points. Not many. But a few.
TWENTY-ONE
Ross was preparing several arguments as to why he and the Ghosts should remain on this mission, not the least of which was because Saif Hamid was involved. Second, Ross planned to remind Mitchell about the SEALs who’d died in Wardak Province and add how the SecDef and National Command Authority had undoubtedly known that the Agency was involved in something borderline illegal in Colombia – and that’s why they wanted the Ghosts involved instead of allowing the CIA’s own paramilitary officers to conduct the rescue. Admittedly, the latter was speculation, but he’d offer that opinion nonetheless.
Ross placed the video call to Mitchell, inserted his earbuds, and to his mild surprise, all of his potential arguments were for naught – because not sixty seconds into the conversation, he realized he would have been preaching to the choir:
‘We IDed one of the dead at the sub dry dock as Juan Marquez, a lieutenant with Los Rastrojos and a liaison between his group and the FARC,’ Mitchell explained. ‘Turns out he used one of his known aliases to do business with Fadakno in Tobruk, but he wasn’t just buying compressors for narcosubs.’
‘Oh, really? So what’s up with Tobruk?’
‘The port might be a distribution hub for Colombian cocaine being smuggled into Europe. Hamid’s group, the Bedayat jadeda, may be using their old al Qaeda contacts to reopen those markets. Obviously we want Hamid, but let’s see how deep the rabbit hole goes. The SecDef and National Command Authority aren’t getting straight answers from Langley, and we’ve been ordered to find out what the hell’s going on out there.’
‘Roger that, sir. Any word on Delgado? He report back in?’
‘Nothing. And even if he does contact the Agency, once again, they’re tight-lipped about everything.’
‘I hope we’re returning the favor and keeping our operations compartmentalized. If Delgado’s gone rogue –’
‘No worries there, Captain. Colonel Evans knows how to deal with them.’
‘Good. Your friend Adamo told me about Hamid’s connections in Afghanistan and the link to Wardak Province.’
‘Hamid’s a scumbag of the highest order, and I can’t think of a better Ghost Team to bring him in.’
Ross made a face. ‘You want him alive?’
‘C’mon, Captain, you’ve been down this road before.’
‘With all due respect, sir, I have. We often assume they have valuable intel, that we need to bring them back alive and question them. Maybe even use creative interrogation techniques. But in the end, most of them don’t know shit, don’t give up shit, and need to be put out with the rest of the garbage. Sir.’
Mitchell paused to consider that. ‘Take him alive. If possible. Terminate his command.’
‘Roger that, sir.’
‘All right then. You and your team will proceed to Tobruk. I’ve contacted Mohammed Darhoub. He’ll meet you at the airport. Darhoub’s from the Transitional National Council, their military council rep. I’ve worked with him before. He’s a good guy. He’s already offered a platoon of NLA troops.’
‘NLA? Is that the National Liberation Army?’
‘Exactly. They’re the guys who took over after Gaddafi’s army fell. Most of them come from the original Free Libyan Army, and I’d say more than half of them are officers who defected from Gaddafi’s forces. I wouldn’t say they’re the highest-caliber operators, but they’ve got courage in spades. Trust me on that.’
‘I will, sir.’
‘And oh, yes, in regard to the Fadakno Company. They’re an Iranian distributor/wholesaler of valves, flanges, fittings and pipes to the Tobruk Refinery. Their home office is in Tehran.’
‘So Hamid is supported by the Iranians?’
‘We can’t confirm that. The office may be just a front for his operations, and he might’ve bribed the management team, leaving the Iranian government out of it. That’s what I’d do if I were him. Bringing in the Iranians and the Quds Force opens him to security leaks.’
Ross nodded.
Mitchell went on: ‘The Tobruk office includes two large warehouses out near the piers. The place is manned by five employees
who may or may not be aware of Hamid’s operations. Darhoub sent a few men over there, and they’ll keep a safe distance for now. He just called to say there’s been no unusual activity thus far, just the regular trucks coming to and from the airport, along with cargo being loaded on to ships. They could be smuggling cocaine right now.’
‘That’s good. Maybe they haven’t been tipped off, which means we’ll need to move quickly.’
‘And we will. I also called the ISA for HUMINT and SIGINT support.’
Mitchell was referring to the United States Army Intelligence Support Activity (aka ‘The Activity’ or ISA), an Army Spec Ops unit that gathered actionable human and signals intelligence in advance of operations like theirs. They worked for both the regular Special Forces like the Rangers, Delta Force, and SEALs, as well as the GST. They changed their code name every two years, and currently they were known as WOLF’S EAR. Anyone who’d ever worked with them would confirm that they were the unsung heroes of countless operations, providing crucial information and pathfinding in some of the most hostile regions on the planet. They were, arguably, the most underrated, least known group within the Army.
‘I’ll take all the help I can get,’ Ross told the major.
‘Good. I’ll have transport waiting for you in Bogotá.’
‘We won’t be late.’
‘If there’s any change, I’ll update you ASAP. Try to get some sleep.’
‘Thank you, sir.’
‘And Captain, one more thing. I almost forgot to ask. How’re you getting along with your new team?’
Ross smiled thinly and stole a look at 30K, who was concentrating on the road. ‘These guys are top-notch. Proud to be here, sir.’
Mitchell cocked a brow and scrutinized Ross, who finally crumbled under the major’s gaze:
‘All right, sir. They don’t hate me that much. But honestly, like I told you, this is exactly what I need.’
‘Very well then. Good hunting, Captain.’
Ross ended the video call and glanced over at 30K. ‘Hal tatakallam al-lughah al-’arabīyah?’
‘Of course I speak Arabic,’ 30K answered in English. He then rambled on in what he called ‘the ancient tongue,’ talking about the weather, the long drive, and even demonstrated that he knew a long list of curse words and vulgar expressions, laughing through them. The GST’s language school and his twisted sense of humor had not failed him, he said.
