DUTCH INTELLIGENCE COMPOUND, TARIN KOWT
Allie van Tanken adjusted her reading glasses so that she could better see the military symbols on the operations map. The map was stretched out over a large trestle table positioned in the centre of the square room.
‘What do you make of this, Christopher?’ Allie pointed to a series of red dots signifying the IED strikes within Uruzghan province over the past two years.
Christopher placed The Devil’s Guard, the book that he was thumbing through, on top of the white book shelf. He looked over at where she was pointing. ‘Why are you even looking there?’ he said. ‘Shouldn’t we be searching for those French journalists? Anyway, it would seem that the strikes are mostly concentrated around the Mirabad Valley, with a few strikes further to the east as well – nothing special about that,’ he said flippantly.
Allie could tell that he had lost interest in looking at the same map all morning. She looked at Christopher over the top of her glasses. At ten years her senior, he should have been a major by now, but he had been passed over because of his love of whisky. She pitied him; he had once been one of the sharpest analysts she had ever met, but now he was just marking time until retirement.
‘No, Christopher, that’s not all. Look closely at the dates. See? There’s one in the east and then one in the west, then another in the east then another in the west. There’s a pattern.’
‘Yes, I see it.’ Christopher was interested now. He looked at the map more closely. ‘So the bomber must strike once in the east and then move to the west and set up another for the next day. Perhaps he’s a creature of habit – or maybe it has to do with the supply location he’s working from.’
‘No, it can’t be that – look at the distances. There must be two bombers working together, one in the east and one in the west. And look here: the pattern has definitely changed. The one in the east has continued his work, no change, targeting the entrances to bases or vehicle checkpoints – nearly all suicide bombings and probably detonated by someone watching. The one in the west has gone after the Australian commando platoon, just IEDs. Suddenly there is no pattern and they are attacks of circumstance and opportunity.’
‘Maybe it’s just a coincidence? Perhaps there’s a third bomber who’s working in the west against the commando platoon.’
‘I already thought of that. But if you look at the Australians’ missions in particular, they are getting hit on the last day of their patrol every time; sometimes the attacks are deadly and sometimes not, but they’re always on the last day.’
‘I’m not sure I follow.’
‘Well, it seems to me that the bomber doesn’t just know about their plan; Yankee Platoon is part of the plan.’ Allie moved a strand of hair from her face and tied it back into her ponytail.
‘Why do you even care about this Australian platoon? We really should be concentrating on the spotter network and their commentary on our Dutch air assets. What has this got to do with anything?’
‘It’s just that we know the Taliban have an informant. I think that what this means is that the information the informant is sending is about the Australian Yankee Platoon specifically. Now, everyone is looking that way, focusing on that – but what if there’s more to it than that? What if they are showing us one thing and doing another?’
‘That sounds complicated, Allie – too much so for the likes of some simple farmers.’
‘You’re a fool if you think we’re dealing with simple farmers here, Christopher. This has all the trademarks of a planned operation – the type of operation that would have been conducted in a European war . . .’ She thought about this, tapping her upper lip with her index finger. ‘Or perhaps in a time of supposed peace,’ she said slowly. ‘It’s a Cold War tactic, which means we’re dealing with a Cold War-trained operator. And if that’s the case, the next time we hear from them it might be a spectacular attack.’
Allie showed Christopher the shared intelligence that had come across their system that morning, the photos from a handset in Zabul. ‘Sam sent these across to me. He believes that these are the family members of Objective Rapier.’ Allie watched as Christopher looked over the photos, stopping at Omar Defari.
‘I see,’ Christopher said. ‘So you think that one of these guys could be the other bomber? Christopher moved the photo of Omar to one side. I take it that you also think that Quetta might be using Uruzghan as a central piece to their campaign planning this summer?’
‘Yes, I do. I think that the focus on Yankee Platoon is a decoy, that there’s something bigger going on. It might be time for me to talk to Matt Rix again.’
Allie was quietly pleased with this outcome; she had thought about Matt a lot since their first meeting. Perhaps this evening she would wander over to the Australian Special Forces compound . . .