hopped out of the vehicle and stood at attention as Clark, Chen, then Sterba debarked. I exited last.
When my feet hit the ground, I was greeted with two perfectly synchronized salutes and a “Welcome back, Lieutenant!” Firm enough to satisfy even the toughest drill sergeant.
I returned the salute, “No need to show off, lads. The Americans know you’re just a couple of bloody wankers!”
Chen and Clark looked aghast at my response.
Sterba knew better, and while he addressed me, his eyes were on the two men. “These boys from your silly little summer camp in New Zealand?”
One of the soldiers turned to me. “Is this the Hollywood poser Fish said would try to hit on us?”
Joe and the boys laughed. Blustering out of the way, I introduced Nigel Johns and Hahona Mana, otherwise known as Peeps and Hona, from the New Zealand SAS. By the looks on their faces, my former squadron mates seemed to be happier to see Lieutenant Commander Chen than yours truly.
“Get your tongues back in your mouths, boys.”
Peeps turned to me with a cheeky smile. “Right, then. Let’s get you set up.”
And with that, they took us to the hangar.
Through the door of the familiar space, I noticed how quiet it was. In my year-long Afghanistan tour with the SAS, the building was a hive of activity. We had thirty men here, along with a support staff of forty more. Today, only two men were left in country along with a few technicians to mind the gear.
I was, however, very pleased to see an MH-6 Little Bird front and center, just inside the main hangar doors. This egg-shaped helo was small, and great for weaving in and out of tight environments. It was perfect for what we had in mind.
“Poms were kind enough to loan it to us,” Hona said, pointing to the helo. The Poms were, in Kiwi slang, the British.
“Good on them. It’s perfect, Hona. Nice work.”
Turning to Chen, Hona said, “Commander, you can set up over there. You’ll have a secure link to your drone and radio contact with us.” He pointed to a set of tables containing tangles of wires and switches.
Turning back to me, he said, “We have some kit ready for you and the Chief. Over here.”
Sterba and I walked with him to the bunk area, where two bunks were covered with everything we’d need.
“Kit up, and we’ll meet by the Commander in ten.”
W e met at the tables where Chen had set up. And while not exactly the senior officer, I had assembled this little team, and someone had to take the lead.
“Ok, boys - and Commander, sorry - Karzai is due at Darul Aman Palace at 10:00 hours for a ribbon cutting, followed by a meeting with the full National Assembly. Mullah Zahir has purchased a BM-21 Grad multiple rocket launcher, and we suspect he will use it to take out Karzai and the Assembly at the palace today.
“Our mission is to locate the launcher and relay the location to the Afghan National Army. They’re skeptical it’s out there. But if it is, they want the takedown.
“Commander Chen will be here on the drone feed churning the images. As she gets likely targets, she will relay the coordinates to Sterbs, Peeps, Hona and I in the Little Bird for a closer look.”
“Afghan national forces have been alerted to our overflight, so they shouldn’t shoot us down. But this is Afghanistan, so you never know,” Peeps interrupted.
“Understood,” I said to Peeps. I then turned to Clark. “If we identify the launcher, you will call in the troops. Despite the drawdown, ISAF is still our point of contact. But go to the locals directly if they’re slow to react.”
Clark nodded.
“We will stay in the area to help coordinate ground forces. Peeps, Hona, and Sterbs will be ready to assist if necessary.
“Questions?”
“I have a couple dozen,” remarked Sterba. “But time is tight, so we’ll have to play this one loose.”
He wasn’t kidding. We were flying by the seat of our pants here. Frankly, I hoped our conclusion on how the pieces of the puzzle
When my feet hit the ground, I was greeted with two perfectly synchronized salutes and a “Welcome back, Lieutenant!” Firm enough to satisfy even the toughest drill sergeant.
I returned the salute, “No need to show off, lads. The Americans know you’re just a couple of bloody wankers!”
Chen and Clark looked aghast at my response.
Sterba knew better, and while he addressed me, his eyes were on the two men. “These boys from your silly little summer camp in New Zealand?”
One of the soldiers turned to me. “Is this the Hollywood poser Fish said would try to hit on us?”
Joe and the boys laughed. Blustering out of the way, I introduced Nigel Johns and Hahona Mana, otherwise known as Peeps and Hona, from the New Zealand SAS. By the looks on their faces, my former squadron mates seemed to be happier to see Lieutenant Commander Chen than yours truly.
“Get your tongues back in your mouths, boys.”
Peeps turned to me with a cheeky smile. “Right, then. Let’s get you set up.”
And with that, they took us to the hangar.
Through the door of the familiar space, I noticed how quiet it was. In my year-long Afghanistan tour with the SAS, the building was a hive of activity. We had thirty men here, along with a support staff of forty more. Today, only two men were left in country along with a few technicians to mind the gear.
I was, however, very pleased to see an MH-6 Little Bird front and center, just inside the main hangar doors. This egg-shaped helo was small, and great for weaving in and out of tight environments. It was perfect for what we had in mind.
“Poms were kind enough to loan it to us,” Hona said, pointing to the helo. The Poms were, in Kiwi slang, the British.
“Good on them. It’s perfect, Hona. Nice work.”
Turning to Chen, Hona said, “Commander, you can set up over there. You’ll have a secure link to your drone and radio contact with us.” He pointed to a set of tables containing tangles of wires and switches.
Turning back to me, he said, “We have some kit ready for you and the Chief. Over here.”
Sterba and I walked with him to the bunk area, where two bunks were covered with everything we’d need.
“Kit up, and we’ll meet by the Commander in ten.”
W e met at the tables where Chen had set up. And while not exactly the senior officer, I had assembled this little team, and someone had to take the lead.
“Ok, boys - and Commander, sorry - Karzai is due at Darul Aman Palace at 10:00 hours for a ribbon cutting, followed by a meeting with the full National Assembly. Mullah Zahir has purchased a BM-21 Grad multiple rocket launcher, and we suspect he will use it to take out Karzai and the Assembly at the palace today.
“Our mission is to locate the launcher and relay the location to the Afghan National Army. They’re skeptical it’s out there. But if it is, they want the takedown.
“Commander Chen will be here on the drone feed churning the images. As she gets likely targets, she will relay the coordinates to Sterbs, Peeps, Hona and I in the Little Bird for a closer look.”
“Afghan national forces have been alerted to our overflight, so they shouldn’t shoot us down. But this is Afghanistan, so you never know,” Peeps interrupted.
“Understood,” I said to Peeps. I then turned to Clark. “If we identify the launcher, you will call in the troops. Despite the drawdown, ISAF is still our point of contact. But go to the locals directly if they’re slow to react.”
Clark nodded.
“We will stay in the area to help coordinate ground forces. Peeps, Hona, and Sterbs will be ready to assist if necessary.
“Questions?”
“I have a couple dozen,” remarked Sterba. “But time is tight, so we’ll have to play this one loose.”
He wasn’t kidding. We were flying by the seat of our pants here. Frankly, I hoped our conclusion on how the pieces of the puzzle
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