23 August 2008
ONLY TWO DAYS remained until Nomad, the Jalrez Valley clearing operation. After the memorial service, Hill and his command team had met with LTC DeMartino, his immediate boss, and COL Johnson, the Brigade commander, to update them on preparations for the op. Hill also looped them in on the evolving insider threat situation on Airborne, including the initial detentions.
1SG Tommy Scott made a key suggestion and Hill implemented it: D Co temporarily transferred Kassiss and the Dalmar brothers to the National Directorate of Security (NDS), an Afghan government version of the CIA. Prisoners required guards. Scott reasoned that the move would reduce Dog Company’s manpower requirements while preventing knowledge of Kassiss’s and the Dalmars’ detention from spreading to the other LNs. It wasn’t the best-case scenario. The NDS was known by human rights groups to torture prisoners and extort their families for money. But Hill felt the local NDS had good oversight, and they maintained a detention facility less than a mile from Airborne.
Next, Hill moved to improve operational security for Nomad, asking all Afghan workers to remain on the FOB overnight. The LNs didn’t like it, but with the number of D Co soldiers wounded in action or reassigned without replacement, Airborne had plenty of tents, cots, and floor space to accommodate them comfortably.
The CI hunt continued, and each LN underwent screening at three separate stations. XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX Again, Dave marshaled the data and fired it over to Ben Travlin at Bagram.
He also spent significant time considering Sammy.
Did Dave know the young Afghan was a spy? Not for sure. Failing the XXXXX wasn’t completely damning in and of itself. Still, Sammy was the CO’s terp. He would be privy to mission planning and rehearsal sessions. Also, if there were bad guys on the base, he would likely know something about it. Perhaps he was the leader, a willing participant, Dave thought. Or maybe he was being threatened. “Keep quiet or we’ll hurt your family,” that kind of thing. It wouldn’t be the first time Dave and his team had seen either of those scenarios.
Meanwhile, rehearsals for Nomad continued with various units running through their individual missions: The Afghan National Army commando element, trained by U.S. Special Forces, would air-assault into the western end of Jalrez Valley within range of Airborne’s 105 mm artillery. The ground element—CPT B’s Special Forces (SF) team, the Caveman Police Mentorship Team, and three Dog Company platoons—would focus on objectives in an eastern subvalley closer to Airborne. This ground element would attempt to herd the Taliban from east to west, with the air assault element serving as a backstop for fleeing fighters. The ANP were read into the plan, but again, generically. They would not be told the location of the mission’s objective.
Hill had considered Dave’s warning about Sammy. He tried to balance it with his firsthand, daily observations of the terp, and the fact that he had already passed the earlier XX screening. Hill was certain Sammy would again come up clean. Still, he was keeping the terp away from command-level meetings about Operation Nomad.
LT Mason Ward and 2nd Platoon had arrived at Airborne the day after the ramp ceremony for Carwile and Conlon at Bagram. Operation Nomad would be the Jolly Rogers’ first trip into the Jalrez Valley since rejoining Dog Company. Hill decided to send Sammy, an experienced hand, into the valley with them. It seemed to be that middle ground Hill was seeking—a way to partition Sammy from the data that would flow through the TOC during Nomad without shaming a friend who had not yet been proven guilty. Plus, as short as Dog Company was on manning, every friendly Hill could send into Jalrez would count.
On 23 August, Dave’s team began to focus on intercepting enemy reports prior to the mission start time of 0100, one hour past midnight on 24 August. The Dirty First, the Jolly Rogers, and the Shockers got busy resetting their trucks and checking their weapons. Day waned into twilight. Soldiers wandered in and out of the chow hall and their hooches, snatching rest where they could.
With five hours to go until launch, CPT B found Hill in the TOC. “Bad news,” he said. “Nomad leaked.”
Hill was stunned. “How could that be? We’ve got every worker locked down here on the FOB. We’ve got all their cell phones.”
“Someone must have snuck in another phone or had one hidden on the base,” CPT B said. “Here’s the worst part: Our sources in Jalrez say that enemy leaders in the valley are starting to bug out.”
“You’ve got to be kidding me.”
“Nope. We also have reports that insurgents are planting IEDs along Route Montana in preparation for our movement into Jalrez. The general has delayed the op twenty-four hours to give us time to come up with a plan for clearing our routes.”
CPT B paused, then added, “Roger, there’s more.”
Hill braced himself.
“I just got word from the OEF Special Forces command. The team that was going to take custody of the prisoners isn’t coming.”
It was bad timing, CPT B explained: The SF team would participate in Nomad, but would then immediately transition to another high-priority op. The general’s twenty-four-hour delay had crowded the prisoner-pickup plan out.
Hill went silent. This was worse than canceling Nomad. At least then there might have been a chance that the OEF guys would still swing down and pick up Airborne’s detainees. Without an OEF unit to receive the detainees under OEF rules, Airborne’s spies had just defaulted to ISAF rules of engagement.
That meant the ninety-six-hour clock on Kassiss and the Dalmar brothers was already forty-eight hours old.
XXXXXX reports streamed in from sources in Maidan Shar and Jalrez Valley, so many calls that CPT B and Taz, Hill’s intel sergeant, often had to put one source on hold to speak to another. Again, the news was bad. Word of the operation was completely out. Sources reported multiple IED emplacements along the only road into Jalrez. Also, a new wrinkle: A couple of sources mentioned a possible eighty-man attack on a U.S. base in Wardak Province, but did not say which one.
In the TOC, a live drone feed showed the enemy digging into fighting positions and planting explosives. All Hill and CPT B could do was watch.
By the morning of August 24, insurrection was brewing among the sequestered Afghan workers. Some began demanding their phones. Others threatened to quit their jobs. Indignance broke out: They had not been officially detained, and yet were being “watched” by armed guards. Several attempted to leave Airborne against instructions.
Dave continued administering XXXXXXXXXXXXX while Ben Travlin pushed back assessments as quickly as the Bagram analysts could turn them around. Airborne’s list of suspects was growing, as was tension on the base. In addition to Kassiss and the Dalmars, CI had identified several more suspects. The situation was beginning to spiral. Dog Company needed a new plan.
Hill called an all-hands meeting. A contingent of Dog Company and SF leadership assembled in the Airborne conference room. Hill updated the group and briefed a plan for arresting emerging suspects. Dog Company’s Headquarters Platoon, led by Kay and Scott, would handle these detentions. The rest of the company and the Special Forces team needed to finalize preparations for Nomad.
Scott reminded Hill that the situation could be volatile since the workers were on the verge of mutiny.
“Do what you have to do,” Hill said. “We don’t have time to fuck around.”
One of the suspects CI had identified was the FOB fuel truck driver, “Kader.” As XO in charge of coordinating logistics, Kay knew the FOB fuel point well. He volunteered to detain Kader. Another lieutenant volunteered to go with him. Kay directed a soldier to covertly check to see whether Kader was in his little hut, then went to his desk to ensure that his sidearm was loaded. He also grabbed spare magazines.
The soldier returned from the fuel point. “Yes, sir. He’s there.”
“Thank you,” Kay said. He thought about the terrain in the area, where diesel was stored in “blivets,” bladders made from heavy, rubberized nylon. Berms protected the blivets on three sides to mitigate fires and the chance of perforation by shrapnel from incoming artillery or rocket fire.
If I were Kader and looking to escape, Kay thought, how would I do it?
He decided he should approach from a direction that backed Kader into the berms in the event he tried to run.
Kay took off his desert camouflage blouse. He would look less formal wearing only his sand-colored T-shirt. He reholstered his weapon and, with the other lieutenant, walked out of the TOC to the fuel point. Diesel fumes hung thick in the area, and Kay hoped he would not have to fire his weapon.
The two officers scanned for any other local nationals who might come to Kader’s aid. Seeing none, they stood before a small hut with walls of corrugated aluminum. Kay rapped on the metal—tap-tap-tap—as if dropping by for a visit. With the other officer at his shoulder, he stood at the doorway and looked in. Kader was inside, lying on a pallet covered with a thin mattress, his head on a pillow. He was wearing a blue head wrap and a dishdasha, the traditional ankle-length white tunic. Both were stained with diesel and grease.
Kader sat up, and Kay saw that the Afghan had kept his hand under his pillow.
Kay left his 9 mm Beretta holstered. He did not want the situation to escalate. As he now did not trust any Afghan on the FOB, he had not brought an interpreter, so he said in English, “Come outside.” Kay gestured with his left hand.
Kader met Kay’s gaze with a blend of surprise and defiance. But he remained still, his hand hidden.
Kay raised his voice. “Come outside.”
In one fluid motion, the Afghan stood, pulling a small blade from beneath the pillow. Instantly, Kay and the lieutenant drew their sidearms and burst into the tiny room. “Get on the ground! Get on the ground now!”
Kay motioned with his arm—Get down!—and a thought arrowed through his mind: If he moves toward me, should I shoot?
“Get on the ground now!” Kay yelled again.
But Kader did not move. Tense moments ticked by as all three men stood freeze-frame still, Kay and the lieutenant with guns drawn, aimed at Kader, who stood rigid with his knife hand at his side.
To break the stalemate, Kay reached up with his left hand and racked the slide on his pistol. The weapon ejected an unspent round, inserting another into the chamber.
Kay’s message needed no interpreter: I. Will. Shoot. You.
Kader tossed down his knife and lowered himself to the floor, belly down. The lieutenant took an angled stance, holding his weapon on the Afghan as Kay zip-tied his hands behind his back and cinched them tight. A search revealed no more weapons on Kader’s person. Kay kicked over the pillow on the Afghan’s pallet. Underneath was a cache of contraband: a cell phone, a couple of SIM cards, and two more knives.