CHAPTER 71
Joint Operations Center, Bagram Airfield
“What the hell is going on?” Scott looked at the thermal sensor from the Predator floating over the valley. An armada of vehicles was coming up the valley, each vehicle loaded with small white thermal dots signifying an army of men.
“Sir, it’s a pile.”
The airman moved the thermal sensor on the aircraft. In the hillside above the valley two white dots were moving back up the valley. Farther up, three more white dots were on the ridgeline.
Scott could see two white dots next to the lead vehicle. The truck remained motionless. Its lights stood out in the thermal-registered darkness like the beacon of a lighthouse.
“We need some help.”
Prevatt sat in the chair in front of the terminal. “I have a fully loaded Predator on station to the south. I can get it up there in thirty minutes.”
“But can we get them out of there?”
Prevatt was silent for a moment.
“You had a mission of Blackhawks, but the wind and altitude killed it.” Even in perfect weather, Blackhawk helicopters could, at best, climb to a ceiling of fifteen to twenty thousand feet, which barely puts them in the valleys of these ranges.
“Sir, we have another problem.” The junior airman zoomed the view on another terminal out to a hundred-mile radius. It was the radar for the sector. Several objects were moving in from the south.
“Pakistani Air Force.”
“A flight of helicopters.” The airman spoke up. “On the other side of the front.”
“Maybe they can help,” said Scott.
“I don’t think so, sir.”
“What’s wrong?”
“They will assume that no one is friendly up there,” Prevatt cut in, “and if we tell them otherwise, they will probably take your men down just out of spite. Remember: They’re missing a couple of freshly stolen nukes. They are royally pissed off. I expect they’ll shoot at any moving target. Period.”
“What are our options?”
“Your men could pull back into the mountains and wait a couple of weeks.”
“That’s not an option. One of them is very sick.” Scott knew that Parker would never make it another day, let alone another week. Plus, he was contagious. “By now, more than one.”
“We have a Marine special-ops team about an hour south of here,” said the younger airman.
“If an Army team can’t get in with Blackhawks, what are the Marines supposed to do to get there in time?”
“They—ah—have another way of getting there.”
Scott looked at the convoy of trucks moving up the pass, then to Prevatt. “What do you think, Colonel?”
Prevatt shrugged. “It’s our only choice.”