Chapter 21

Four days later

 

After months of training and weeks of planning and anticipation, the night was finally upon them. Rad sat on his bunk, staring into space, trying to visualize the coming mission he both dreaded and desired. Even though he had no appetite he forced down an MRE, not knowing when he would be able to eat again.

Leaving just enough time to get to the rally point at the fire pit, Rad went through his usual ritual before a mission. First, he re-checked everything he carried in the lower pockets of his cargo pants, making sure assault gloves, leather mitts for fast-roping, and extra batteries were easily accessible. After checking his ankle pocket, where he kept an extra tourniquet, he moved to the pockets on his shoulder. On the left, he kept a couple hundred dollars—American cash—in case he was compromised and needed to buy a ride or bribe someone. On the opposite side he carried his camera, and in the back of his belt, a fixed blade knife.

Satisfied with that part of his routine, Rad picked up his kit for inspection. Two radios were mounted on either side of the front plate with three magazines for his assault rifle and a frag hand-grenade mounted between them. He also carried a breaching charge in the back, as well as several chemical lights in the front of his vest. Visible only to those wearing night vision goggles (NVGs), the lights were used to mark rooms or buildings that had been cleared and were considered secure.

Rad picked up his helmet and switched on the light to make sure it worked and checked the NVGs. He then picked up his rifle and tested the red laser, visible to the naked eye, on a wall by his bunk, then flipped down the NVGs and did the same with the infrared laser. Pulling the bolt back, he chambered a round, and then double-checked to make sure it had seated. He confirmed the safety was on and rested the weapon back against the wall.

The final step was to pull the small laminated booklet—his cheat sheet—out of a small pouch in the front of his vest. Flipping past the first two pages, which contained an aerial view of the compound and radio frequencies, he continued to the page that displayed the names and photos of everyone expected to be in the target house. He studied the images as well as the height, weight, and known descriptions again, trying to commit each to memory.

With his camouflage uniform on and gear ready to go, Rad grabbed his boots and laced them. His mind now began to focus on the significance of this mission and the work that needed to be done. He pushed all thoughts of Lauren from his mind as he carefully double-wrapped the laces and tucked them into his boots.

Finally, Rad hoisted his sixty-pound vest over his head, tightened the straps, and touched everything again to make sure he could reach it. He then connected the antennas to the radio and put his earbuds in position. In his right ear would be the troop net, where teammates would communicate with each other during the mission. His left ear would monitor the command net, allowing him to communicate with other team leaders and officials.

Rad checked his watch. He could hear guys moving around, packing their bags and slamming the door as they headed to the fire pit, but he had one more ritual to complete. Dropping to one knee and bowing his head, he said a prayer for the success of the mission and the safety of his men, ending with “And protect Lauren with your merciful hand. Thy will be done. Amen.”

“You ready for this?” Wynn patted him on the back when he got to the fire pit, his spirits obviously high.

“Can’t wait.” Rad gave him the thumbs up.

McDunna soon arrived and without fanfare, they loaded onto a bus for transportation to their waiting Black Hawks. With the engines running and rotors spinning while the pilots went through final checks, the choppers made conversation impossible—but that did not stop communication. As he stood in line waiting to load, Rad noticed a few hand gestures between teammates loading on the other chopper. These men would be all business in a few minutes, but now they were more like children on a playground, talking smack using only hand—or finger—signals, and smiling as if this was nothing more than an exciting fieldtrip.

Since he would be the first one down the rope, Rad was the last to board and barely had enough room to wedge his large body into the helicopter. Predictably, no one asked whether or not he was comfortable. The door clicked shut, the bird lifted, and they headed for the border.

Rad tried to scrunch around to make more room, which only caused someone’s knees to gouge into his back more intensely. He closed his eyes, trying to convince himself he was comfortable, and tried to relax and snooze. It seemed like only moments later the radio crackled to life with the first transmission of the night. “Crossing the border.”

Damn. We’re really going to do this.

After closing his eyes again, he let his thoughts drift until he heard the radio come to live again with the call, “Ten minutes.”

Those words were enough to shake him from his groggy sleep. He wiped his eyes and wiggled his toes to start working the circulation back.

“Five minutes.”

All other thoughts disappeared and it became just another night of work. Rad pulled on his helmet and snapped the chinstrap. Pulling his NVGs down, he made sure everything was in focus by turning his head side to side. Then he pulled his gun in tighter to his chest, so it wouldn’t hang up on the rope, and checked his safety one last time.

The cabin was now full of movement, yet quiet, as everyone performed the same checks.

“One minute.”

The crew chief slid the door open and Rad slid the fast rope system into place, checking the pin and then giving a tug to make sure it was secure. The crew chief repeated the last steps to double-check him before Rad slid his legs out over the edge of the helicopter.

It was pitch black down below. Rolling blackouts were common, but it hit Rad as uncommonly good fortune that one would hit this area at exactly this time.

Rad glanced over his shoulder. Ten of the most highly trained and seasoned soldiers the world had ever known sat calmly behind him, their well-worn boots ready to touch the ground. They were on the verge of launching a raid in a foreign land that was among the most desolate and inhospitable places on earth, yet he knew every last one of them looked forward with great anticipation to what lay ahead.

Hearing the engine noise change as the helicopter hovered, Rad waited for the “go” as they hit their predetermined fast-rope point. Finally, he saw the outline of the target’s house. About the same size as other compounds, it lay nestled on its own terrace and was surrounded by eight-foot walls on three sides that jutted out and overlooked the valley. The side nestled against the mountain had no wall, the mountain itself providing the defensive barrier.

As he got the “go,” Rad threw the rope and dropped out of the chopper. Hurrying to get out of the way of the remaining men coming down the rope, he turned his head back and forth as he ran, swinging his gun from nine to three at the ready. All appeared clear.

We’re in the hornet’s nest, Rad thought to himself as he made his way to his first target. As others headed to the main gate, he approached a small detached building that was presumably a guest prayer room. As he checked the room and found it clear, he heard, “Breaching charge ready” in his ear and knew Bipp was getting ready to blow the main gate. Rad threw an infrared chemlight by the door as he left the building to notify anyone wearing NVGs the room was secure.

Moving back to the gate, Rad noticed the compound where Lauren lived to his left. It appeared dark and sinister, and he wondered for a moment if Lauren was hiding within, watching the assault unfold. He hoped not. Too much could go wrong.

Rad listened as Bipp announced the charge getting ready to blow. In anticipation of the blast, everyone dipped their heads to protect their eyes. There was a quick flash, followed by an explosion and a shock wave that blew a hole in the gate. Wynn was the first one up to it, kicking and pulling the metal wider so everyone could fit. Guys piled through and peeled off toward their planned objectives.

Arriving at their next target, a building to the right of the main house, Wynn took a position to the left of the door while Rad tried the knob. Finding it locked, he took a position on the other side of the door, covering Wynn who pulled out a sledgehammer. A couple of good whacks resulted only in a battered handle. Wynn turned to the window and tried to smash the glass, but the bars were too narrow to get the hammer through.

With the element of surprise gone and time slipping by, Rad decided to use an explosive. He pulled the breaching charge off his kit and moved in low to affix it to the door.

From across the compound came an explosion as another team attempted to gain entry by blowing a side gate of the compound. “Failed breach,” came over the radio. “Moving to Delta gate.”

Geez. They should be inside by now, and they are still trying to gain entry on the west side.

Rad did the calculations. It had been about five minutes since they’d hit the ground and twenty guys were swarming the compound. Taking into account the noise of the helicopters and the sound of at least two charges blowing, there was no way everyone in the compound was not awake.

Pushing these thoughts away, Rad took a knee to the right of the door and peeled the adhesive backing off the breaching charge before setting it across the mangled knob and lock.

Without warning an AK-47 round tore through the door to the right of his head. Rad rolled away as bullets cracked just inches away. Pieces of wood and shards of glass from the window beside the door hit his shoulder and tore into his skin.

Whoever was inside didn’t stop, but continued firing blindly, now aiming chest high. Intelligence data gathered on this building had revealed this door as the only entry and exit point. The occupant apparently knew he was trapped, and was not going to go down without a fight.

Wynn, covering the door from the left, fired back as Rad opened fire from the ground. He felt a searing burn from the shrapnel in his left shoulder but didn’t stop to think about it.

Rolling clear of the dangerous area in front of the door, Rad jumped back to his feet and ordered the man inside to come out in what little Arabic he knew. When the response was more gunfire, he stuck the barrel of his gun between the bars on the window and fired toward the terrorist’s likely position in the house.

Everything went silent.

With no time to spare, Rad went back to the explosive charge to blow the door. He was about to attach the detonator when he heard the latch on the door unlock. He looked around to see if Wynn heard it too and saw he was backing away. Neither one of them had anywhere to move for cover, and no way of knowing if they were going to get sprayed with an AK or hit with a grenade. Backing up seemed like a good idea.

After they had taken only a few steps, the door opened a little wider, and a woman’s form appeared. Rad breathed slowly and concentrated on her every move. If she was wearing a suicide vest both he and Wynn were dead. But trying to figure out whether she was or not was like predicting if and when lightning was going to strike.

Through the sweat running down his face and the grit that remained in his eyes from the rotor wash on the landing, Rad could barely distinguish that the woman had something in her arms. His finger slowly applied pressure to his trigger as lasers from both him and Wynn danced around her head. It would only take a split second to dispatch her.

Then he saw the bundle was a baby. Behind her, three more kids came out.

As Wynn moved the woman and kids away to another team member who did a pat down, Rad stood to the left, pushed the door open with his rifle barrel, and spotted a pair of feet lying in a puddle of blood with toes pointed toward the ceiling.

From behind him, Wynn squeezed his shoulder to let him know he was ready. Moving forward, Rad stepped over the body and kicked the terrorist’s AK away. It was obvious he was dead. The entire room was shredded from the gunfire, and the floor was slippery from dripping water pipes and blood. After checking the rest of the building, Rad found it clear.

“Shots fired. Building is secure,” Rad reported over the troop net as he tossed another chemlight at the front door. Then he moved toward the main building to backfill other teams.

Rad heard the boom from another breaching charge somewhere else in the compound as he made his way around the west side of the main house. His heart picked up its pace with anticipation as he thought about what they might find inside. Lauren had said the target and his father most likely resided on the third floor. If she was right, they would soon have their man.

Once inside the main door, the hurry and rushing turned into a slow, deliberate waiting game as Rad became stacked behind other men methodically clearing rooms. It was the impatient rhythm of battle—violent motion reduced to perfect stillness.

Listening to another door or gate being breached in front of him made the situation feel strangely surreal, like he was waiting to enter the house for Close Quarters Battle training. He’d done this hundreds of times, but this one was somehow different.

Rad heard a bop, bop coming from down a hallway ahead of him, and then the call over the radio. “First floor, secure.”

The house was dark and eerily still as the team made their way to the stairwell to check the next floor. They did their best to be quiet, but Rad knew whoever was hiding up there had had plenty of time to get a weapon and prepare a defense. On some raids his men would use a flash grenade to clear their objective, but this one was all about throttle control. Everyone in the compound had certainly heard the helicopters, the shots fired, and the explosive breaches. The fact that everything had grown quiet again would keep the occupants upstairs guessing about what was coming next.

When Rad made it to the second floor, he saw it had four doors, two right and two further down on the left. His teammates crept down the hall, backing each other up on doors before expeditiously clearing each one.

It appeared this floor was made up mostly of women and children because no shots were fired. At the “all clear” call, Rad turned toward the next flight of stairs. Wynn was already on the landing, holding security between the floors. Rad squeezed his shoulder to let him know he was ready. “Take it,” he whispered.

Everything was bathed in an eerie green hue as they moved up the stairs to the next floor. This was it. The culmination of Lauren’s work and the hours of training and planning that had gone into this mission were going to be decided in the next few minutes. They had to be ready for anything now. This terrorist was not going to go down without a fight. There was no margin for error.

As he slowly walked up the stairs, Rad continued to scan the top landing. Every sense was on overdrive and strained to its limit, but he didn’t know if he was breathing hard or not breathing at all. He was on autopilot.

Wynn stood outside the door of the first room and waited for Rad to signal he was in position. When he got the nod, he pushed the door open and immediately swept the room to the left as Rad followed and swept it to the right. Finding nothing but storage boxes, they exited and continued to the next room. After taking only a step, a man appeared at the next door and let go an un-aimed burst from his weapon. Rad hit him with two rounds and kept moving as two of his men went in to clear the room.

A quick movement from the end of the hall caught Rad’s attention. He let go a burst and stepped back into the doorway, waiting for return fire, but none came.

Assured he was covered from behind, he ran down the hallway and swung his weapon into the room where the man had disappeared. Rad found the man sprawled in the doorway reaching for his weapon and put another round in him to keep him down. Then he did a quick sweep of the room with his muzzle and settled on an old man lying in bed.

The man raised one hand as if surrendering, but then without warning drew an AK from beneath the covers with his other, and fired a round while letting out a banshee-like scream. Something clipped Rad’s arm, stinging him with a bolt of fire, but it didn’t stop him from discharging a burst that sent the man sprawling back into the bed in a spray of red mist.

“You okay?” Wynn nodded toward his arm after they had made sure the room was secure.

“Yeah, just a stinger.”

Wielding the rifle against his shoulder again, he took a deep breath and swung back into the hall to the last remaining door. Blood began to drip off the tips of his fingers, making him think that perhaps his wound was a little more serious than he thought. But he felt no pain.

With sweat dripping into his eyes, Rad moved forward as quietly as he could. His senses were hyper-alert, attuned for any sudden movement or noise. They had not yet found their target, and time was running out. The success of this operation depended on getting in and out in a set amount of time. Thirty minutes, with an extra ten minutes of flextime, was the deadline based on the volume of fuel held by the waiting helicopters and the length of time it might take Pakistan to assemble and launch their military. If Lauren’s information was correct—and he believed it was—their man had to be behind this last door.

Rad stood in the hallway and strained his ears. No sound. Standing with his back against the wall, he quietly reached over and tried the doorknob. It was locked. Wynn, in the same position on the other side of the door said quietly into his mic, “Going explosive?”

Rad made a split second decision that ran counter to his better judgment and training. Time was running out. He was so close to the terrorist, he could almost feel him.

Fuck the explosives.

Taking deep breaths, he counted to three, turned toward the barrier and let his foot fly. The moment his boot connected with the door, he heard a roaring barrage of gunfire.