CHAPTER 14

Manas Air Base, Kyrgyzstan

Sunday 9 Jul 06 2200 hrs KGT

Phil sat down and pushed a fresh cup of coffee toward Sergeant Major Shirazi.

“Thanks, Sir,” he said.

Phil, Kurt, Shirazi and O’Donnell were sitting at a table in the transient dining facility of the bustling Manas Air Base waiting for the final leg of their journey to take place. They’d come in on an Air Force C-17 Globemaster III one hour ago together with twenty other passengers and numerous pallets of cargo, some here for the base and the rest for KAF.

They’d been lucky to grab this flight both because of its timing and also because they didn’t have to fly on what O’Donnell had called a cattle truck; a C-17 configured to its maximum one hundred thirty-four passenger carriage capability using palletized rows of five-across seating and the sidewall seats of the aircraft. The way they had come here was much more comfortable with room to spread out and with cargo pallets to climb and stretch out on for some sleep and less competition for the limited on-board toilet facilities.

Another hour of cargo unloading and loading and aircraft servicing and they’d be off for the rest of their flight into KAF.

“Do your guys use this base?” Phil asked Kurt.

“I don’t think so.” He replied. “Our people stage through Camp MIRAGE in the Emirates. I wouldn’t rule out we’ve put something through here but mainly it’s for your air-to-air tanker fleet and as a transit center for your troop rotations. Come to think of it, I think the Aussies and Kiwis stage through here as well as several of the European countries. It’s quite the facility they’ve set up here.” They were in the middle of probably a hundred or so of what Shirazi had called BATs—Big Ass Tents.

Phil turned to Shirazi and asked, “Did you get a chance to get through the file?” He’d had O’Donnell reduce the contents of the accordion folder that the Commander USSOCOM had given him into pdf files which had then been copied to encrypted classified level USB thumb drives. Kurt and Shirazi had each been given one to use on their TEMPEST-level laptops.

“Yes, Sir.”

“Any preliminary thoughts?”

“There’s something hinky in the report from State, Sir. It doesn’t quite jive with the others even when you consider how many holes there are in those reports. I can’t put my finger on what exactly it is yet; it’s mostly just a gut feeling right now.”

Phil glanced at Kurt. “That pretty much makes it unanimous doesn’t it?”

Kurt nodded. He too had expressed the same impression when he had first reviewed the files in Tampa.

“What’s the plan for tomorrow?” asked Kurt.

“Rest and regroup mostly,” answered Phil. “I got a flood of emails once we touched down. ODA 053 is deployed. On top of that we may or may not be able to get in to see the Brits for a few days. They wouldn’t say why but told me to contact them on secure channels once we’re on the ground.”

Kurt pulled out his Blackberry. “Might as well take the opportunity to clear up my in-box. I’ve got about seventy that came in during the time we were in-flight.”

“I know what you mean,” said Phil. “On average I get over a hundred a day of which ten need to be dealt with, another ten provide useful information and the other eighty are useless crap I really don’t need.”

“But they all take time to classify, file or delete,” said Kurt quickly letting his thumbs travel over the device’s tiny keyboard all but oblivious to the bustle of activity all around him.

 

— § —

 

The whistling, whining noise within the cargo hold of the plane was all pervasive but adequately held in check by the earplugs Phil had put in prior to liftoff. He had nestled himself into one of the plane’s outboard, starboard aluminum and canvas jump seats and had reimmersed himself in Brian’s dog-eared copy of A Game of Thrones. He’d just gotten to the part where the character Tyrion was watching the sellsword Bronn butcher his horse when he felt a nudge on his left arm.

Kurt motioned at the book and mouthed something incomprehensible.

Phil held up his finger and then removed the earplug from his left ear. “What did you say?” he half-shouted.

“I said are you enjoying the book,” asked Kurt.

“Yeah, it’s pretty good,” he replied.

“I hadn’t figured you for a fantasy novel fan,” said Kurt.

“I don’t read them as a rule. This is Brian’s. He brought it home this summer and said that I really had to read it. I’m really quite enjoying it. I had some trouble getting into it for the first fifty pages or so but after that it really drew me in pretty quickly.”

“Any word from Brian yet? Do they let boots near telephones or email? Is he even at a base yet?”

“Yup, nope, and not yet. He sent me an email yesterday telling me that he’s taking the train to Fort Benning tomorrow. His Basic Combat Training course starts later this week.”

“You good with this?” asked Kurt.

“Yeah,” Phil paused a few beats. “Yeah. I think I am.”