it recognizable.”
I thought for a second. “It’s going to be disguised. If the full National Assembly is meeting with the president, there will be plenty of security. Hell, the Taliban have tried to take out Karzai a half dozen times already. The disguise for the truck would need to be simple, something they can remove quickly. If they gave it a wrapping - maybe to look like a bread truck - the geometry should be really close.”
“They have bread trucks in Afghanistan?” Chen asked.
“Who knows. But we do know that most trucks in a city like that are small. We’re looking for the odd one. The one as big as a house.”
Sterba returned with a grim look on his face. “ISAF can’t move on this. Too thin for them.”
“What can they do?” I asked.
“Not much. They’re alerting local forces, but they can’t connect with Karzai’s security directly. Remember, a lot of the shine has worn off.”
“Can JSOC at least get us a ride there?”
“Nope. Nothing today.”
“Darn it.”
Landon returned from the living room where he had been making his calls.
“Langley has a few men on the ground in Kabul. They are going to notify the locals and begin to run their own search. But you know what it’s like there, Jackson. Big city, lots of torn up buildings, and plenty of places to hide.”
“Can you get a drone orbiting the palace site, covering a suitable radius?”
“Yes, I heard you and Haley talking. I’ve requested a UAV, which will give us better resolution than satellite.”
Chen looked up from her keyboard. “A drone would be perfect.”
“Nice work, Landon. How about getting us there.”
“Took care of that, too. We have a C-37 coming up from Singapore for us now. We can be wheels up in about six hours.”
“You can rustle up the Air Force’s version of a G-5 with just a couple of calls?” Joe asked, amazed.
“Even dinosaurs know a few tricks,” Clark replied.
Part IV
Afghanistan
30
O ur eight hour flight to Kabul was overnight, and we did our best to grab a few hours sleep not knowing what the morning would bring.
Two hours out, Chen was able to get a datalink with the UAV orbiting the palace. She sat in the sleek jet hunched over her computer, watching the screen turn pictures into numbers.
We knew chances of a hit were low. The Mullah’s forces would likely keep the Grad hidden from ground security that would be undoubtedly patrolling the city in advance of the event. It would be hidden in a patch of trees covered with camouflage netting or simply parked inside a warehouse or workshop.
Clark and Sterba were on and off the phone with their superiors, getting more frustrated by the minute.
“They’re not changing a thing,” Sterba admitted. “Karzai’s meeting with the National Assembly is still on. The Afghans think we’re overreacting to bad intel and need to butt out of their national business. And frankly, our forces aren’t too convinced, either.”
“The issue here is that Langley and JSOC haven’t heard anything about this threat other than our warnings. We’re not going to get any support other than the drone. If we get visual confirmation, they’re willing to step in,” Landon explained.
“By then it could be too late,” Sterba concluded.
We’d have to do this on our own. Assuming Chen could find the Grad, we needed quick mobility to the vehicle, and a way to defeat the men guarding and operating it.
And if the CIA and our special operations command wouldn’t help, there was one last card to play.
Sterba read my mind. “Any of your old squad mates still in town?”
31
W e touched down at Bagram Airfield, about 25 miles north of Kabul, at 06:30. As we taxied across the ramp to hangar Lima Six, the impact of the international draw down was clear. What was once a bustling city of its own, the massive airfield felt almost empty.
The aircraft hatch opened up to reveal an old, open top Land Rover. As the stairs unfolded, two men in battle dress
I thought for a second. “It’s going to be disguised. If the full National Assembly is meeting with the president, there will be plenty of security. Hell, the Taliban have tried to take out Karzai a half dozen times already. The disguise for the truck would need to be simple, something they can remove quickly. If they gave it a wrapping - maybe to look like a bread truck - the geometry should be really close.”
“They have bread trucks in Afghanistan?” Chen asked.
“Who knows. But we do know that most trucks in a city like that are small. We’re looking for the odd one. The one as big as a house.”
Sterba returned with a grim look on his face. “ISAF can’t move on this. Too thin for them.”
“What can they do?” I asked.
“Not much. They’re alerting local forces, but they can’t connect with Karzai’s security directly. Remember, a lot of the shine has worn off.”
“Can JSOC at least get us a ride there?”
“Nope. Nothing today.”
“Darn it.”
Landon returned from the living room where he had been making his calls.
“Langley has a few men on the ground in Kabul. They are going to notify the locals and begin to run their own search. But you know what it’s like there, Jackson. Big city, lots of torn up buildings, and plenty of places to hide.”
“Can you get a drone orbiting the palace site, covering a suitable radius?”
“Yes, I heard you and Haley talking. I’ve requested a UAV, which will give us better resolution than satellite.”
Chen looked up from her keyboard. “A drone would be perfect.”
“Nice work, Landon. How about getting us there.”
“Took care of that, too. We have a C-37 coming up from Singapore for us now. We can be wheels up in about six hours.”
“You can rustle up the Air Force’s version of a G-5 with just a couple of calls?” Joe asked, amazed.
“Even dinosaurs know a few tricks,” Clark replied.
Part IV
Afghanistan
30
O ur eight hour flight to Kabul was overnight, and we did our best to grab a few hours sleep not knowing what the morning would bring.
Two hours out, Chen was able to get a datalink with the UAV orbiting the palace. She sat in the sleek jet hunched over her computer, watching the screen turn pictures into numbers.
We knew chances of a hit were low. The Mullah’s forces would likely keep the Grad hidden from ground security that would be undoubtedly patrolling the city in advance of the event. It would be hidden in a patch of trees covered with camouflage netting or simply parked inside a warehouse or workshop.
Clark and Sterba were on and off the phone with their superiors, getting more frustrated by the minute.
“They’re not changing a thing,” Sterba admitted. “Karzai’s meeting with the National Assembly is still on. The Afghans think we’re overreacting to bad intel and need to butt out of their national business. And frankly, our forces aren’t too convinced, either.”
“The issue here is that Langley and JSOC haven’t heard anything about this threat other than our warnings. We’re not going to get any support other than the drone. If we get visual confirmation, they’re willing to step in,” Landon explained.
“By then it could be too late,” Sterba concluded.
We’d have to do this on our own. Assuming Chen could find the Grad, we needed quick mobility to the vehicle, and a way to defeat the men guarding and operating it.
And if the CIA and our special operations command wouldn’t help, there was one last card to play.
Sterba read my mind. “Any of your old squad mates still in town?”
31
W e touched down at Bagram Airfield, about 25 miles north of Kabul, at 06:30. As we taxied across the ramp to hangar Lima Six, the impact of the international draw down was clear. What was once a bustling city of its own, the massive airfield felt almost empty.
The aircraft hatch opened up to reveal an old, open top Land Rover. As the stairs unfolded, two men in battle dress
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