SPECIAL FORCES MESS HALL, CAMP RUSSELL
The Special Forces eating area was teeming with operators, each sitting in their respective group. All manner of conversations were taking place, ranging from the war in Afghanistan and old Soviet tactics to fly fishing techniques to be practiced while holidaying in New Zealand, or ‘anywhere green and cold for that matter,’ said one guy, sick of the sand pit. It wasn’t Duck a l’Orange or lobster today, but the braised beef and Singapore noodle made a nice change.
Matt noticed that the men sitting opposite him had fallen silent and were staring open-mouthed. Looking over his shoulder, he saw the source of their shock: standing behind him was Allie van Tanken. How could anyone look so beautiful in a t-shirt and cargos? Matt asked himself.
‘Uh, sure, Allie – have a seat.’ Matt moved over to make a space for her beside him.
The Dutch officer sat down with her plate of food and looked around at the other five men sitting along the table. They all watched her, the meals in front of them forgotten.
‘So, guys, perhaps you could leave Matt and I to talk for a bit,’ Allie suggested. ‘It looks like you have finished eating.’
‘So is this like a date, ma’am?’ said Ben Braithwaite, clearly relishing the opportunity to have a dig at his boss.
‘No, not this time, Corporal – but soon, perhaps.’
Matt laughed, simultaneously reminding himself that Allie was joking; she was a professional colleague, and he should be looking on her as nothing more.
‘Clear out, lads,’ Matt said. ‘I’ll see you back in the common room later this evening.’
With a bit of good-natured grumbling the guys did as he asked, Cinzano tripping over his own feet as he left.
‘How is everything, Matt?’ Allie asked, fixing him with a concerned gaze.
‘Yeah, good – it turns out you were right, Allie: my guys and I were being set up as bait. But I think it’s sorted now. General Towers is here at the moment and our CO has been relieved.’
‘But that doesn’t explain the leak, does it?’
‘Does it explain the leak?’ Matt frowned. ‘No,’ he said slowly. ‘I guess it doesn’t.’
Allie leaned in closer. ‘Listen, Matt, I plotted the IED strikes in Uruzghan over the last couple of years onto the map this afternoon, and I found something interesting . . .’ She briefly outlined what she had seen in her trends analysis.
‘So what do you think this big plan might be, if it’s not just ongoing combat between us and them?’
‘I’m not sure, Matt. Perhaps you’ve already averted it by destroying his cache. Just remember, though – it seems that there is more than one bomber. Rapier’s a guy, but he’s not necessarily the guy. I just thought you should know.’
Matt looked at the Dutch officer intently; the mess had started to clear out now and there were only a handful of people sitting around talking over coffees. ‘I have this overwhelming urge to kiss you, Allie,’ he confessed. He grinned sheepishly. ‘I’m sorry if that’s too forward.’
‘Better save that for our first date.’ Allie winked, then stood up. ‘See you soon, Matt.’
Matt watched Allie leave and wondered what it would be like to be in a relationship with a woman like that. She was an enigma to him; she wasn’t soft at all but she was feminine. Nor was she needy. In fact, to Matt she seemed strong and, if anything, he was more attracted to her because of that. Matt thought back to Rachel, and to other girls in his life. He had loved them at the time, but there was always something missing for him. This was it; he had finally met a woman who was self-assured and demanded to be treated like an equal. That ‘soon’ couldn’t come quickly enough for him.
• • •
Sam rose quickly from his desk and hastened to the door of the CO’s office, only to remember that the CO wasn’t there anymore. He took a step backwards, not really sure what to make of this new information. Perhaps it was nothing. He looked down at the handful of pink papers he was clutching then moved back to his seat. The phone report was detailed and the list of numbers on Faisal’s phone linked him to networks all over the country and abroad. Sam’s junior analyst had highlighted one number in green no less than thirty times over the last five months of recorded history. It was a mobile number from Kandahar – and it belonged to Stephanie Baumer.
Sam tapped his pen on his desk and looked at his own phone. Reaching over, he picked up the handset and punched in Steph’s desk extension.
It rang only once before it was picked up. ‘Hello?’
Sam thought Steph sounded tired. ‘Steph, it’s Sam Long here. I think we need to have a chat.’
There was silence on the other end of the line then Steph gave a nervous laugh. Sam could hear the murmur of voices in the background; she obviously wasn’t alone. Lowering her voice, she said, ‘Really, Sam? What is there to chat about exactly?’
‘Well, we could start with you telling me why it is that your phone number was found on a cell phone belonging to one of our targets, Steph.’
Steph’s voice was barely a hiss as she replied, ‘Is that so? Well, I’ve already talked to Geoff Langston about this, Sam. One of my contacts was missing at the time, perhaps in Pakistan.’
Sam glanced again at the report he was holding and leaned back in his chair. He felt himself becoming increasingly suspicious. ‘Well, his phone wasn’t in Pakistan. Interestingly, you called the number at almost the exact time when the assault team made entry in Tarin Kowt. That’s a strange coincidence, don’t you think?’
‘It’s a coincidence, Sam, and that’s about all it is; I don’t see how it’s strange at all.’ Steph was sounding more confident now. Her tone became aggressive. ‘Sam, I’m not sure exactly what you’re implying, but you had better tread carefully. I could elevate this up the chain of command, if you like?’
‘There’s no need to be like that, Steph. I’m merely asking for the facts. The way I see it, the SOTG cleared a building and lifted a guy who had your number in his phone, and we were not given any warning that an informant would be on the target. I just wanted to make sure that there wasn’t a breakdown in procedure.’
‘I have many contacts working all over Afghanistan and chances are some of them are going to get caught up in raids from time to time. I don’t see the issue. Now if you’ve quite finished, I have reports to write.’
Sam looked over the paper again.
‘Well, Sam?’ she said impatiently. ‘Are you done prying for today?’
Sam sat straight bolt upright, the information jumping off the page and almost knocking him from his seat. ‘What the fuck?’ Sam couldn’t believe his eyes.
‘Goodbye, Sam.’
‘Not so fast, Steph.’ Sam leaned over his desk, frowning as he scanned through the dates in his head. ‘It looks like you’ve called this number the day before every operation Yankee Platoon has been on over the past three months.’
‘What are you talking about, Sam?’ The CIA analyst sounded anxious now.
‘That’s no coincidence, Steph. Jesus, have you been tipping off the Taliban?’ Sam couldn’t even believe he had said the words out loud.
‘No, Sam, don’t be stupid!’ He heard her suck in a breath. ‘I’m not the only intelligence officer who controls human informants,’ she said meaningfully.
Sam thought about it for a moment, trying to figure out who she might mean. Then it occurred to him. ‘Do you mean Allie van Tanken, the Dutch intel officer?’ he asked.
‘Let’s not talk about this any further over an unsecure line. Perhaps we had better meet; I can explain to you what’s happening, bring you into the compartment, so to speak. But you have to keep this to yourself. Can you do that, Sam?’
Sam felt uneasy. The thought of uncovering another compartmented mission was truly worrying.
‘Okay, Steph,’ he said finally. He looked down at the times and dates of the calls; it was a worrying coincidence indeed. Then he noticed something that his analyst had missed. In the next column of outgoing calls there was a number that Faisal would ring not long after the call from Steph. The number seemed familiar. Maybe it was a pattern in the zeros that he had seen before. He couldn’t be sure, but it was familiar.
‘Good. When are you in Kandahar?’ asked Steph.
‘Next week, I think.’
‘Right, well, we can meet then and I’ll explain everything.’ She hung up abruptly.
Sam replaced the handset. What the hell did it all mean? he wondered.
Sam typed the new number that he had found into his database, not really expecting anything to come from it.
‘Holy FUCK! You’ve got to be joking.’ Sam was gobsmacked. Faisal Khan was calling Matt’s terp, Nadeem Karne, not long after talking to Steph. It was clear from the report in front of him that Steph was the leak; that much was certain. But what was she leaking? And now it was clear that she wasn’t the only leak, or the most dangerous.
Sam thought about the decisions that he now faced; expose Steph, alert Matt to the leak from inside his own platoon or deal with Faisal directly.
‘Faisal Khan,’ said Sam under his breath as he read the name from the top of the report. ‘Hmm, perhaps if you were lifted off the street, you might be able to answer a few simple questions and shed some light on all of this, Mr Khan . . .’