“OK, listen up. It’s twenty-three miles from the base to the ridge. The helicopters will drop two teams on the ridge and the third closer to the village, and we will hike down and set up before sunrise. When the ambush starts, the Russian guards will likely call Fedorov, who will send Taliban to the ambush site. They would make the five miles from the village quickly, so the third team is going to use mortar fire to slow them down. All teams need to complete the ambush and return to the ridge in no more than one hour from start to finish.”
Abel raised a hand. “How are we engaging the vehicles?”
“The two Barrett rifles will fire on the vehicles from forty-five degree angles, starting the battle. We’ll use explosive rounds to penetrate armor and vehicle bodies. After that, we will only use the Barretts for targets of opportunity so as not to hit our people. I will be on the first rifle.
The second shooter will be responsible for killing Ali Shirazi once the vehicles are stopped.” He paused, and his gaze swung over to Rachel. Her face was drawn, her fingers digging into the seatback beside her as she waited for his next words. “Rachel, you will be the second shooter.”
She let out the breath she was holding. “I won’t let you down.”
“I know you won’t. Sara, you will be responsible for taking Masoud Akbari captive and obtaining information about the remaining terror cells. You will have support.” Stryker gestured toward the team leader.
“I’ll do my part,” Sara said.
“One challenge will be the hike to the ambush site in the dark. We’ll have night vision gear but will need to estimate the time necessary to get into place. Then on the way out we need to plan for wounded and picking up the Barretts and shell cases.” He looked around at the gathered faces, each of them prepared and determined. “Some things we cannot plan for. Should the unexpected happen, go to our second extraction point. We will have backups in place. Our plan is to get in and out quickly, leaving no evidence. I know I can depend on every one of you.”
They all nodded their understanding. Stryker looked to the team leader to see if he had anything to add, but he shook his head.
“Once we get to the base,” Stryker said, “we will go over this again in more detail and fine tune any changes. Any questions?”
No one offered anything. Rachel gave him a very small smile, quickly gone. “All right then,” he said. “Get rest while you can. You’re going to need it.”
The team members returned to their seats, but Stryker asked Rachel and Sara to stay a moment longer. Rachel was almost thrumming with energy after Stryker confirmed she would be taking out Ali, but a dark anxiety haunted her eyes as she looked at him.
“You two have the most critical assignments. If for some reason Rachel does not get the chance to kill Ali, then you kill him, Sara. In the same way, if you are hurt, designate another team member to capture Masoud. We get only one chance to make this happen, and many lives depend on us.” He met Rachel’s gaze. She looked back at him, unflinching. “Rachel, you and Sara take care of your team, and Herb will take care of the Hatchet Forces. Once your jobs are done, go to the helicopter even if Herb is still cleaning up.”
Rachel took a step closer to him. “Will you be with us?”
“I might move to higher ground to set up and wait for the Russians and Taliban to arrive. I might be able to buy everyone more time if the mortar fire doesn’t slow them down enough.”
Rachel shook her head. “I don’t like it.”
Sara placed a hand on Rachel’s arm. “You need to focus on what’s best for the mission, not just best for you. Stryker knows what he is doing.”
When Sara met his eyes, he felt he finally saw through her gaze to the woman behind it, like an understanding passed between them. Nothing was more important than putting a stop to the evil these men had done, the fear and pain they spread. Nothing.
Sara returned to her seat, and Stryker and Rachel were relatively alone. The plane hit a brief moment of turbulence, and Rachel lost her footing and fell against him. He wrapped an arm around her to steady her as the “fasten seat-belts” light came on. Neither of them moved to sit down. Rachel leaned closer to him, her breath soft against his ear as she whispered.
“I’ve lived with this hatred for Ali all my life. For a while now, I’ve felt the hate is destroying me, but I haven’t known how to get rid of it.” She closed her eyes and rested her head against his shoulder. “I want my life back.”
He slid his other arm around her and pulled her into a tighter embrace. “I know. It’s almost over, and Ali will not get away this time. You can find some peace and move on.”
“I hope you’re right,” she said in a small voice.
“I hate to ask you this, but can you put the mission ahead of your feelings?”
She was quiet a moment. “Yes. I’m ready. But I don’t want you heading off to be a hero. You don’t need to do that.” Her fingers brushed at the back of his neck. “Isn’t there anything you want to come back for?”
He kissed the top of her head and then gently disengaged from her. “I might change my mind.”
Chapter 37
Shindand Air Force Base, Afghanistan
July 2011
“Welcome to the base,” Herb said. “For the next twenty-four hours, you will practice for the ambush and shoot your weapons on the off-site range, which has easy access by car. Each person’s gear has been placed in the rear of Hangar 2 with a number attached. Sparks has the master list.” He jerked his head toward Sparks, who waved cheerily. “Go see Sparks and get your gear. Should there be any problems with it, tell us immediately. The ambush is the day after tomorrow, so we need to be ready.”
A few minutes later, Stryker approached Sparks, who was busily matching soldiers with their gear designations. “I’d like you to take me and Herb for a flight over the area. I want to locate sniper positions and trails down from the ridge to the ambush site.”
“I can do that. I’m a little in demand right now though.”
Stryker pulled the list out of his hand, drew out a knife, and stabbed it through the list to pin it to the wall. “You’ve been relieved. Do you have any aerial photos?”
Sparks stared at the list. “Um. Herb has them. They’re good quality, and recent too.”
“Good. I’m going to check my gear and then I’ll be ready. What’s my number?”
“How should I know? You just decapitated my list.”
Stryker grinned and leaned around two other soldiers to see the list. He headed off to the hangar. After checking his gear, he stowed it in the barracks and went to meet Sparks and Herb at the helicopter. As Stryker climbed in, Sparks started the jet turbine and eased the blade into rotation to prepare for lift-off. He called the tower and reported he was departing to the northwest toward Herat on a training flight.
“I already let the base know that Alpha would be conducting training flights for the next several days and nights,” Herb said. “It’s not out of the ordinary.”
Sparks lifted off, and in less than twenty minutes, they were flying over the mission area. Stryker found the road, and Sparks pointed to the clearing on the ridge where they planned to drop the team. Stryker found two good sniper positions less than one thousand meters from the road and marked them on his map. The ambush site, located past a bend in the road where it straightened out for a quarter of a mile, had cover on both sides to hide the teams. It would be perfect.
Stryker had seen what he needed, so they headed back to base. Once on the ground, Stryker asked Sparks and Herb what the plan would be on the morning of the attack.
“We’re thinking we will put the two Hatchet teams down shortly after sunset and then your team before midnight,” Herb said. “By using different drop and pickup points, we space out the helicopters to leave less chance of discovery.”
Sparks nodded. “After the ambush, the Hatchet teams will meet their helicopters several miles southeast of the ridge where the Israeli team will be inserted. Helicopter prese
nce in one location will be kept to a minimum.”
“Makes sense. I guess my last concern is how we handle wounded.”
“I had Alpha fly a medical team in,” Herb said. “They’ll be set up in the hangar. If some of the wounded are critical, Alpha will fly them to a hospital in Kabul that treats contractors and the military.”
“I like your planning,” Stryker said. “You did a good job.”
“Aww, stop,” Sparks said. “You’ll make me blush.”
“I was talking to Herb,” Stryker said. Herb laughed.
They strolled through the hangar and on toward the dining hall where they could get something to drink. Stryker asked Herb if he planned to talk with Fedorov.
“I’ll call him the day of the meeting and tell him to call me when the Iranians arrive in the village. I’ll threaten him again if he balks.”
“Rachel tells me Abel can jam communications from the vehicles,” Sparks said. “If he does, the Russian will never know what’s going on five miles away. Fedorov will think they’re late.”
“Jamming the comms might give the strike teams a lot more time,” Stryker said. “I’ll speak to Abel about it.”
Stryker asked about the gun range and found out the Hatchet teams were there, practicing. As Stryker waited, he continued to fine tune the ambush with Sparks and Herb, with a final plan to put all of the teams into their areas at sundown the day before. It would give each team more time to dig into their positions and make changes as necessary. Stryker liked the idea even though they would need to remain in position all night and half the next day.
Herb left to review the equipment lists, and Stryker pulled Sparks to the side of the dining hall where they could speak in private. “Sparks, in all seriousness,” he said, “how are you moving around and getting things done without higher authorities in the Agency being involved?”
“The Agency is only involved with shipping, some equipment, and a safe house. The only information sent up channels involves the use of the safe house.” Sparks smiled. “I never told anyone about the Mossad. Daniel revealed their interest when he called to inform them about the threats to the United States.”
“The Iranians must have gotten information about me from some other source. After this operation is over, we’ll need to put on hold any arrangement until the CIA resolves the mole issue.”
“I’m worried too,” Sparks said. “Worried I might leave on one of these trips and Jackie won’t see me again.”
Abel entered the dining hall, saw them, and started walking their direction. Stryker bit off what he was about to say and instead motioned Abel over.
“Gentlemen,” Abel said, “how goes the planning?”
“Abel, are you sure you can jam phones and radios in the Iranians’ vehicles? It’s critical that we know.”
Abel rested his hands on hips. “I can jam transmissions within a hundred meters in all directions. Of course, it will jam all of our communications as well.”
Stryker thought a moment. “What if you jam everything just before we attack, and then after their phones and radios are secured, you turn off the jamming so our communications are back in service?”
“I can do that.”
“Tell your team members what you’re doing so they can go to hand signals during the attack.”
“I’ll tell the Hatchet teams about the jamming,” Sparks said. “It will also mean we can use the third team for the attack instead of mortar fire on the Taliban, right?”
“Yes,” Stryker said. “If the Russians can’t call for reinforcements, our best option is to complete the ambush and get out before the Taliban even arrive.”
Herb strolled by the doorway, and they called him in. They gave him the details, and he was in favor of the plan.
“What are your plans personally during the ambush?” Stryker asked.
Herb tilted his head to the side, and his neck popped. “I’m going to lead the Hatchet teams, just as I did many years ago.”
Once a combat commander, always a combat commander, Stryker reflected. He realized he was beginning to really like Herb Miller.
A few hours later, the two Hatchet teams returned from the range, and Stryker found Rachel and the two Barretts. One of Herb’s men drove them to the range, which looked new and had pistol and rifle stations. The longest range was 1,500 meters, which caught Stryker’s interest. He and Rachel donned ear protection, and he used his laser range finder to measure the distance to the steel target. The range was 1,512 meters, and he dialed the information into the computer along with the wind. He took aim. The rifle fired and the steel plate rocked as they heard metal strike metal. Stryker fired one more round and was satisfied with the results.
Rachel used Stryker’s range finder, estimated her target, and dialed in the distance and wind. She took her time to fire the round and heard the hit as the metal plate dropped. Rachel fired another round with the same results. Stryker and Rachel then moved to the 200 meter range and fired several clips through their AK-47s, which were being used so shell casings and bullets would match those used by the Taliban.
They returned to the base and went to dinner, where everyone was full of energy. With the ambush just one day away, a buzz of excitement ran through the conversations, familiar to Stryker from many missions gone by.
He thought of all the men, high on adrenaline the night before, who had failed to come back from those missions. He carried his tray to a corner of the room, unable to join in, and ate alone.
Halfway through the meal, Rachel sat down next to him, so close their trays touched. She didn’t ask, and she didn’t say a word—she just sat beside him and ate in silence. At one point, she reached over and took his hand. He squeezed it, and she smiled. It was enough.
Chapter 38
South of Herat, Afghanistan
July 2011
Each soldier began dressing several hours before dark. They put on tactical pants and shirts covered by tactical vests, gloves, goggles, and small backpacks with hydration enclosures. They wore soft boonie hats and carried communication gear, pistols, knives, and ammunition clips attached to their vests. Their AK-47s hung from tactical slings. Night vision goggles were in their packs with some power bars and special tools for the rifles.
Stryker and his team would leave first with the other teams following every hour thereafter. When the time came, Stryker viewed his team of Mossad agents and motioned for them to climb aboard the helicopter. Sparks had already begun spooling up the turbine and gave them a thumbs up as they lifted into the air and away.
Twenty minutes later, Sparks set the helicopter lightly down on the ridge in complete darkness as he had done so many times before. The team was out of the helicopter in minutes with all of their gear and Sparks lifted off.
Once on the ground, Stryker told the team they would go down the ridge single file with some of them helping to carry the Barrett rifles and ammunition. Stryker had everyone test their communications, which all came in loud and clear. He grabbed one of the Barrett rifles, which weighed over thirty-six pounds empty, and slipped it over his back. One of the other team members who looked like a weight lifter took the second rifle for Rachel, putting it on his shoulder. Two more members took a .50 caliber ammo bag each. The team adjusted their night vision goggles and started down the ridge. Rachel walked close behind him.
The trip down seemed slow because Stryker stopped frequently to listen for unusual sounds. He was in his element now. Even as a young boy moving through the forest, he had been able to read nature. He understood the noises of the night, even in a place as different as this. He could tell animal sounds from human, and he had learned to trust his instincts. So far, all seemed well.
After they traveled down the ridge for close to an hour, Stryker believed they were getting close to his chosen position. “Let’s leave my gear here,” he said.
The team with the ammo left one bag, and Stryker set down his Barrett and pack and marked the site on his portable GPS so he migh
t easily return later. Stryker relieved the man carrying Rachel’s rifle and thanked him. Stryker told the team they needed to move two hundred meters to the left of Stryker’s position and follow him. After twenty minutes, he found Rachel’s position beside a large boulder, and they unloaded the rifle and ammo pack.
“Good luck,” Stryker said over the comm. “When you’re in your final positions, let me know. Abel will jam communications when the convoy is sighted, and we’ll revert to hand signals from that point on.”
All members acknowledged the information and started down the hill toward the road.
Stryker checked to see his transmit button was off and turned to Rachel who did the same. It was close to midnight, and Stryker would stay with her until 4:00 a.m. helping her set up. Rachel laid out her shooting mat and set the rifle on its bipod. She got out two magazines and her range finder and opened the ammo bag. Stryker helped her find the special explosive rounds and loaded both magazines. She had brought four magazines, and they loaded the other two with regular AP rounds.
“Use the explosive rounds on the car engines,” he whispered to her, “but they are also good on people.”
“I understand,” she murmured.
“You will probably get only one shot at Ali as he exits the car. I’ll fire on the first vehicle to bring the other to a stop. You’ll be able to fire on the second one and look for Ali. If you can’t find him, shoot targets of opportunity to help the teams on the ground.”
“I understand.” There in the darkness she leaned over and kissed him softly on the mouth. “Thank you.”
He returned the kiss. Her hand went to the side of his face, but as the length of her body began to press against his, he eased her back. “We should stay alert.”
She turned away from him, her breaths quick and short in the silence. She knelt by the rifle and checked the scope, even though she had already done so.
Operations Compromised Page 20