“How’d that make you feel, Sergeant?”
“Feel? I haven’t been asked of my feelings in a long time, ma’am. I guess I was pissed off. We all were. Don’t know if that makes sense or not, but we’re the front line, there to protect all men and women in the Armed Forces.”
“You’re the baddest dogs on the block and you were leashed.”
“Damn right!” York said, a near smile forming on his face. “Ramirez said we’re going in and nobody complained. We were hungry, pissed off. We posted up on the southern ridgeline. We flanked them, taking two good angles of fire. Once we got within two hundred meters or so, we engaged.”
“What happened next?”
“We sent them presents, courtesy of Delta.”
“You fired and—”
“—and we opened the gates of hell.”
48
“What were their numbers?” Elizabeth asked. “How many?”
“You ever been in a car wreck?” York thought a moment, recalling. “You see, things slow down, but your mind’s working overtime in combat. So you get these flashes, that’s it. Not full memories.”
“I understand. Your best guess, please,” she beckoned.
“Hundreds,” York replied. “Had to have been.”
Elizabeth sighed. Then, she changed the topic, saying, “Let’s go back a bit. You engage a few dozen Taliban. Outnumbered. Were you scared?”
“We had a job to do. We don’t give two shits how many we’re up against. We just knew one thing: those bombs were meant to kill our men. We decided to take ’em out. Wasn’t really a tough call, and I don’t care what anyone thinks. We made the right one,” York said.
“I agree. But why, once on top of the ridge, did you continue? Why not head back? Especially when communications began to go out. Especially when ordered.”
“Ah, you’re taking it too personal. It wasn’t a far climb down, only a few hundred meters past that. No biggie. We weren’t due back for a few days, had time to spare,” York said, shrugging his shoulders as if he didn’t care.
“Was it a long fight?”
“Firefights don’t usually last long, though it feels like an eternity sometimes. I’d say this one was long, though. Perhaps thirty minutes? Might not sound long to a civilian, but trust me, it is. Gives you a complete adrenaline dump, wears on your body, your mind.”
“I understand,” Elizabeth said. “Go on . . .”
“We’d advance, kill a few, advance more. They were soon retreating, stopping only to take a few shots, then they’d continue on. It was pretty easy to catch up.”
“And they made their way east, correct?”
“Yeah, up the ridge. It was a small mountain, I guess, their only real way out considering we had them pinned down. The climb wasn’t even that tough, really. Nothing they weren’t used to. We killed a bunch, the rest ran up the trail, toward the top of the bluff.”
“Then what?”
“The fuckers stopped. It was their only way out, we had them flanked and pushing hard. They could have gone down the other side, the trail was manageable. They could have sought cover, hidden in the rocks and even returned fire. But they didn’t. They just froze,” York explained.
Elizabeth tilted her head at this, curious. “Why do you think that is?”
“Who fucking knows? Taliban’s different. Anyway, we were closing in. Our tactics were superior, we felt confident. Ramirez killed two at the base, I took out a few halfway up the trail. Even got a three hundred meter shot uphill with a decent crosswind,” York bragged.
Elizabeth attempted to act unimpressed, her face a mere scowl. She’d known many Special Forces, had worked with them to a great extent. This bragging was normal, she knew this, but something about York’s demeanor, something about his tone, his look, did impress Elizabeth.
Strange, she thought.
York continued, “Popped a few more ragheads up the trail, whole team got a few. We reached the summit, and about twelve were left. Fuckers were just standing there. Not shooting, just staring in the opposite direction,” York said with a laugh.
“Quite odd, I’m sure,” she noted.
“I guess. Can’t ever expect anything from them. They’re not like us, ya know? They looked away, and we had to fire a few rounds into the air to get their attention, though they must have heard us coming up,” he said.
“And then you shot them?” she asked.
“Yup,” he grinned.
“Thing that bothers me is this . . .” Elizabeth began. “. . . why did they freeze? What were they looking at?”
“Don’t know for sure. Can only assume the village, I guess.”
“But you said there was no threat in the village.”
“Maybe they knew of the cave. Don’t know.”
“Sergeant York, why do you think they froze?” she asked.
“Fear,” he replied. “Though they weren’t afraid of us. Something else, but not us.”
“After you killed the enemy, you went downhill. Swept the village?”
“Yeah, went right on in.”
“How many do you estimate?” Elizabeth asked.
“Few hundred, maybe a thousand. Hard to know.”
“Anything abnormal?” she asked.
“No, not really. Thing is, the village was pretty big. Lots of people, but when I checked the maps, the GPS, I couldn’t find it. Not completely surprised, but still . . . it should have been there.”
“And no Taliban according to your reports.”
“Negative. Seemed like normal folk. Most wary, but lots happy to see us. We get that in parts, but in Khost, they usually hate us. Chatted with the locals, took a look around, nothing.”
“So you think you got all the insurgents?” she asked.
“I do,” York said. “Look, I know it sounds crazy, but no way we missed them. Too much open landscape. The fuckers froze, and I can’t say why. But you see, the Afghanis are different. Can’t always understand them, don’t try to. I do respect them, though. They’re a formidable enemy, more so than the Iraqis in my opinion. Maybe it was fear, maybe just stupidity,” York said.
“You sound irritated by this,” she asked.
“You a shrink?”
“No.”
“Good, ’cause I hate shrinks. I am pissed. Thinking back, it’s like they led us there. Like it was okay for them to give their lives so we’d enter the valley. I even remember thinking how stupid they were at the time, but looking back, we were the stupid ones.”
“You did nothing wrong, in my opinion,” she said.
This brought some comfort to York. “They purposely chose death instead of entering that canyon. They could have hidden in the village, taken up position, something. Anything. But they chose death. Knew it was coming. That’s not something done lightly. They knew they were dead men, and figured our bullets would be quicker, easier.”
Elizabeth shook her head, face filled with disbelief. “They refused to enter the valley . . .” she mumbled.
“I’m pretty sure I know why,” York said.
49
One helo and two Apache gunships revved their engines, rotors spinning, last minute checks. They were fully armed, ready for their cargo.
Outside the hanger, men prepped the helicopters.
Inside, Delta stood, dressed for combat, smiles on their faces. It was about time. In the distance, walking across the tarmac in their direction, was Colonel Reynolds. He wore desert fatigues, worn and comfortable boots, a small pack on his back. In his hand was a beat up looking Remington .308 bolt action rifle.
Clements turned, saying, “Dale, what the fuck is going on, brother? What’s all this?”
“We’re getting some combat time, that’s what,” Dale said, his voice low.
“That’s not what I mean. It’s obvious they’re prepping us for something big. Guessing we’re going after those Delta boys. Shit man, it’s been three weeks. Maybe we’ll find bodies, maybe there’s another reason.”
“So?”
“So, this Colonel really our CO? We really doing some CIA shit, aren’t we?”
Dale turned to Clements, looking him square in the eyes. “I’ve been doing CIA shit this whole time, brother man.”
“Say what?” Clements asked, eyes wide.
“We’re Tier One. Our missions get reported to Langley. They call the shots, not the Army.”
“But we’re Delta.”
“Not anymore. You see that file? We’re Special Activities Division right now. Congrats, you passed your training,” Dale said with a smirk.
“And that Marine, he’s going with us?” Clements asked.
“On this run, looks like. Don’t you know he’s famous, though? Long range kinda guy. Heard he still pops Taliban at seven hundred meters. I’ll take that on our side any day.”
“Shit, me too, Dale. Just wondering is all.”
“Look, shit might be fucked up. Have lots of questions myself. But for now, let’s get off this base and get some practice. I think we’ll need it. And don’t worry about the Colonel. He seems to enjoy a good fight too. You do know, he’s a pretty famous sniper. Might be good to have on our side. Hooah?”
“Hooah!” Clements replied.
Moments later Colonel Reynolds motioned to the Delta team of six, waving them near the helicopters, and headed out past the horizon for some much needed action.
CENTRAL INTELLIGENCE AGENCY
Asymmetrical Clandestine Elite Services
Interrogation of Sergeant C. York
Army, 1st SFOD-D
Interviewer: Elizabeth (ACES)
Location: Khost Province, Afghanistan
Time: 0730 Hours Zulu
CLASSIFIED TOP SECRET
50
“How are you feeling, Sergeant?” Elizabeth asked. A few more hours had passed. Though she was in much need for information, she knew it would take time. Time she didn’t have.
“Fair, I suppose,” York responded.
“Did you get some rest?”
“A little.”
“And still no fighting. Looks like we’re making progress, Sergeant York.”
“Yeah, maybe,” he muttered.
“Did the books help? I didn’t know which genre you like, and there weren’t many selections on the shelves.”
“Yeah, sure did. Read a bit, got some sleep. Guess things are better, even though I’m still your prisoner,” he retorted.
“After this chat, you’ll receive some time outside. Sun’s going down, but a little fresh air might help. Does that sound good, Sergeant?” Elizabeth asked.
“Yeah, sure does.”
“Of course, rules still apply. Under guard and shackled. But an hour to look up at the stars.”
“I could use some exercise,” York stated. “Helps keep the anger down a bit.”
“Well, maybe we can arrange for your shackles to be off inside your room.”
“You mean, my cell?”
“You could at least get some exercise. We’ll go from there,” Elizabeth said, writing in her notepad.
“I’ll take what I can get,” York said.
“Good. Now, though you’ll likely remain a bit groggy, you’ve been off the meds most of the day. Is it helping?”
“I guess so. I’m not so jumbled.”
“Are you depressed, Sergeant York?”
“You going to put me back on anti-depressants?” he asked.
“No. I just assume you are.”
“Sure as fuck am. Try being a prisoner, tied up, beat up. Try being a member of The Unit that’s hidden away. Try getting asked a million questions. Try getting told you’re crazy. ’Cause lady, they think I’m crazy. You do too, don’t you?” York asked.
“No, Sergeant York, I do not think you’re crazy. Now, if we can make some progress, I hope to release you from this facility as soon as I think you’re ready. You’ll undergo mandatory counseling, and trust me, you’ll be under close scrutiny. But all in all, I hope to make you a free man soon. I hope to release you into the real world,” Elizabeth said, her voice opportunistic.
“Ma’am, Afghanistan is the real world.”
“I hope to get you back to the States in little time. Back to your family, back home. This incident has been horrific for you, I can only imagine. I hope with some time and help, you’ll go on with life,” she encouraged.
“You think I want out? I ain’t leaving the Army. I’m Delta, and intend to keep it that way. That is, unless they’re giving me the boot.”
“Your superiors speak highly of you. Commander McClain, even General Kline spoke nice words. I’ll see what I can do, maybe there’s a way you can stay. But to be honest, I doubt you’ll see combat again. But there’s many opportunities. Other members of The Unit would benefit greatly from your experience. Perhaps a training position. Perhaps strategy.”
“Go fuck yourself,” York exclaimed, leaning forward. His calm demeanor changed in an instant. “I’m sure you’ll report your opinion, just like the rest. That I’m not fit for combat. That I’m fucked up in the head. No longer an asset.”
“I didn’t say that.”
“But you will. Go fuck yourself,” he repeated.
“Now listen, Sergeant, I’ve done a lot to help you. I’ve done it quickly, to show some good faith. You’ve experienced something more horrific than any man I’ve ever known. Ever! You went up against something that no one else ever has, and you survived. You alone.”
“I sure fucking did,” he replied, as if uncomfortable of this fact.
“I’m sorry, but there’s no way they’ll allow you back into combat. Doesn’t mean you won’t remain with 1st SFOD-D. Doesn’t mean you won’t be important.”
“What, some desk jockey? Maybe a pencil pusher. Or maybe I can spend my days yelling at new recruits. You think that’s why I’m here, lady? Maybe I’ll finish my service, grow to be an old man, and tell war stories that nobody will listen to. That’s my future?” he exclaimed.
“You really want to stay in? Full duty?” she asked.
“Sure as fuck do. And I’m sick of waiting. I’ll answer your little fucking questions all day, but I want out of this shit-hole. I’m ready for some action, and if you don’t allow it, I’ll find a way.”
“I don’t believe that’s wise, but we’ll speak on that matter later. You’ve been helpful and candid, so perhaps I’ll suggest active duty. We’ll see. We have much ground to cover first.”
“Then get on with it,” he demanded.
“Khost.”
“Khost. Yup, it’s hell on earth.”
“I’d like to speak more about the valley. The cave.”
“You watched the interrogations, right? You heard my answers,” he said.
“Many times. But I’d like to hear them once more, if you don’t mind.”
“What’s in it for me?” he asked, a grin on his face. “You gonna threaten to drug me again if I don’t talk?”
“I don’t work that way. Provided you remain calm and don’t pick fights, you’ll keep those privileges.”
“Privileges, eh? Wow, I’m a lucky man.”
“You should take what you can get, Sergeant York. Now if we’re bartering, what exactly do you want? I gave you books, some time outdoors, even a bit of exercise. Your meals are better. What else?” she asked bluntly. She had little time. Her team briefing would be soon, and she still had much to do.
“Take these off?” York requested, pulling his hands from the table, motioning to the chains. “And get me some smokes. Matches, an ashtray. A Coke, too. Shit, been weeks since I’ve had any of ’em.” York stared at the woman. This was the ultimate test, this would determine their understanding from now on.
Elizabeth thought a moment. She wasn’t the sort to answer on impulse. She weighed her options, then without saying a word, she stood up from her seat. York began to ask where she was going, but Elizabeth ignored the man. She proceeded to the door, rapped, and after a buzz the door opened. She was greeted by four guards,
anxious looks on their faces.
The dialogue lasted a few minutes. It appeared as if they disagreed, were trying to dissuade her.
Elizabeth always got her way.
The woman finally turned, the door shutting behind, and sat back down. She looked at her notes, ignoring York, remaining silent.
“What was that all about?” he finally asked. The quiet bothered him.
But Elizabeth didn’t answer. Instead, she held up her index finger, signaling for him to be patient. It took a few minutes of awkward silence before the buzz of the door sounded again. In walked five men.
Four were guards, heavily armed, carbines pointed in his direction. A large Sergeant spoke carefully to York, saying, “I’m going to undo these chains.”
“Really?” York said, looking at Elizabeth. It was almost humorous to him. Was this really happening?
“I’ll undo your leg shackles first, then your arms. You will remain seated. You won’t move an inch. Your hands will remain where I can see them at all times. Understood?” the Sergeant asked.
York glanced up, grinning. “Sure thing.”
“Not an inch,” the Sergeant warned again.
“I won’t give you trouble,” York promised.
The Sergeant nodded, leaning in closer, whispering, “General Kline has given me the order to shoot you if you try anything. Anything at all. I don’t want to do that, but I sure will. You will be alone with this woman, and I’ll be watching through that mirror. You make any sudden movement, I’ll assume the worse.”
“You’ll come in guns blazing and kill me dead,” York said. “Got it. I understand.”
“Good,” the Sergeant said. He then lowered down, bending and unclasping York’s leg restraints. A minute passed and he stood back up, right hand still on his rifle.
“The arms?” York asked. “You promised.”
The Sergeant grumbled, swung his rifle back, and pulled his pistol from the holster. He aimed it directly at York’s head. “Don’t move.”
Khost Page 21