Disavowed by C. G. Cooper Page B

like to see what happens to you if you stick around.”
    The American looked from the newest arrivals to his own men. Some of his mercenaries were already backing away. They knew they were outnumbered, probably two to one.
    “This isn’t over. We’ll see each other soon,” the man said, locking his glare on Cal.
    Cal grinned, lifted his hand and extended his middle finger.
    The spook barked a command, and his minions slithered back into their vehicles and sped off into the night.
    “I assume those are your friends?” Cal asked, pointing to the rooftops where the shadows were slipping down from their perches.
    “Right. Some old SAS dogs and the odd Royal Marine. I think you’ll like them.”
    Cal nodded. “I’d say I owe them a pint or two.”
    Kreyling’s only visible eyebrow arched. “Don’t let them hear that. They’ll drink you broke if you let them.”
    Cal clapped his friend on the back and motioned for him to lead the way. He was looking forward to meeting Kreyling’s friends.
     
    +++
     
    1:39am
     
    The Hind touched down just outside of a small cluster of homes on the edge of Kandahar. Andy was on his third bag of IV fluids. The medic pulled out the IV line and moved on to securing his gear and opening the side hatch.
    His face still covered, the pilot met them at the open door, a steady stream of desert sand blowing in from the prop wash. He put his mouth close to Isnard’s ear.
    “There is a man in that orchard,” the pilot pointed into the inky blackness. “He will escort you the rest of the way.”
    “Thank you for helping us,” said Isnard, for once at a loss for the right words.
    The pilot nodded. “Do not give up on my country, Mr. Isnard. Despite what your papers might say, there are still those of us who believe in a free Afghanistan.”
    He shook Isnard’s hand and returned to the cockpit. The medic waited for the Marines to debark. Isnard had to help Andy out, struggling to keep his friend upright. The fluids had brought color back to his face, but Andy still needed medical attention. His legs wobbled as he moved.
    They ducked down as the helicopter rose into the air and flew north, the sound of its powerful engines fading into the blackness. Alone again.
    They didn’t move, letting their senses adjust to the darkness, taking in their new surroundings. A dog barked in the distance, followed by a car backfiring. Other than that the night was quiet, subdued.
    When Isnard was confident that they weren’t walking into an ambush, he eased Andy to his feet, and they made their way toward the walled orchard. They could only hope that this would be the last leg of their journey.
     

Chapter 21
    Kandahar, Afghanistan
    6:27am AFT, August 25 th
     
    Cal and his team said their goodbyes to the Brits who’d saved them five hours before. Over celebratory drinks, for which the former commandos kept a healthy stash in their posh accommodations, Cal learned that the British government was taking a more active role in the region. They were even calling in retired operators like the ones who’d come to Kreyling’s call. According to one particularly crusty former Royal Marine colour sergeant, it was all because of the Zimmer Doctrine.
    “I’ve gotta hand it to your president,” he’d said. “Took a lot of balls to stand up there and say what he did. Good to know you boys are back in the fight.”
    There was a level of excitement in the air that Cal hadn’t felt since just after 9-11. The troops were restless, like baying hounds pulling at their master’s leash. These men had spent their entire adult lives training for war. It was all they knew. Some were married with families, others were terminal bachelors. But together they were family.
    The Jefferson Group men fit right in with their cousins from across the sea, trading stories and swapping ribbing between men of battle. It was obvious to Cal that Kreyling had passed the word: “These Americans are with me.”
    Cal watched their