She turned to him, saying, “Commander McClain was too close. His emotions would have hindered his judgment,” she said.
“The Commander is a professional,” Clements defended.
“No doubt, but this mission is out of the ordinary. Quite different, and McClain’s team wasn’t needed. Now, one last time . . . everyone in?”
“Hooah!” they responded.
“Great,” Elizabeth said, a bit relieved. She knew they would accept, but something in the back of her mind had worried her, still did. “You six men have been in Afghanistan for four years. Most of that time, you’ve been with Task Force 88. You specialize in asymmetrical warfare, guerrilla strategies, close quarters combat.”
“Stuff like that, yeah,” Dale acknowledged.
“That’s exactly what I need here. In ancient times, war was won by sheer numbers. But asymmetrical war has changed the tide of war over the years. We’re getting better at it, and I’ll say I picked Delta for certain reasons,” Elizabeth said.
“’Cause we’re the best, we know that,” Thompson gloated.
“Yes, you are. Also, your specialties. Desert and mountainous navigation. Close quarters battle. Less emphasis on hostage rescue. I’m betting on your superior tactics, gentlemen. I’m betting on creative thinking on this one.”
The Special Activities Division fell under AWG, or the Asymmetrical Warfare Group. These men were hand-selected to work for the CIA. The Special Activities Division, for all intents and purposes, answered to nobody. They had no rules, for they didn’t exist. Mostly comprised of Special Operators, these were the elite of all elite.
Asymmetrical Warfare wasn’t only a modern technique. In ancient times, guerrilla ambushes, night attacks, hit and runs were used to win battles, to demoralize. But after World War II and the end of the modern century, this unconventional approach was utilized more and more.
Asymmetrical Warfare is simply a term used when two unevenly matched groups face one another in combat. The smaller unit can’t hope to match a larger force with conventional methods, head-to-head, so they use unconventional means to win the battle. They pick and choose when and how to engage. They use unsavory tactics, they remain unpredictable. Ambush and surprise.
A volunteer armed force tends to fight more fiercely than a conscripted one. Slaves never make good soldiers, nor do drafted soldiers. They fight with less enthusiasm, less motivation. Wars are won by men who want to fight, and as the modern ‘war on terror’ became commonplace, the need for Special Operators increased.
And these six members of The Unit were the best. They knew quite well how to exploit an enemy’s weaknesses.
They’d done it many times against the Taliban.
“Before we get into the details, I’ll say this,” Elizabeth continued. “You have a free pass to do what you want. Your only job is to kill. This is not a hostage rescue situation. I want that clear.”
“We can do that,” Dale said with a nod.
“You’ll be highly outnumbered. Maybe five to one. Maybe more,” she said.
“That’s the way we like it,” Dale added.
“All right, the mission . . .” Elizabeth began.
56
“The SOG guys did it in Vietnam,” Elizabeth said. “The CIA invented the concept once they realized their methods weren’t working. They’d send in three man teams, give ’em a license to do what the hell they wanted.”
Colonel Reynolds nodding, adding, “My father was SOG. He said few returned, most never heard from again. You are all under the direct authority of the CIA right now. Special Activities Division, like Elizabeth said. Unlike Delta, you abide by no rules, follow no laws. What you do on this mission is highly classified, and anything and everything is allowed.”
“So we can blow shit up,” Thompson said.
“That’s what we do,” Marcus added.
“You can and will kill with no mercy,” Reynolds replied. His face was stoic, yet his body tense. “This is the most covert operation you’ll ever be involved in. Make no mistake, the CIA will have plausible deniability. Once you go in, you’re alone. Elizabeth and I will monitor the mission from here, we’ll update the INTEL, do what we can to help. But if you get captured, injured, even lost, you’re on your own. You die, you weren’t here. Your family will get a story about dying in a training mission. You know the drill. If you get into trouble, if you’re getting overwhelmed, there’s no cavalry. None. Nobody will come looking for you.”
“Understood, Colonel,” Dale said, recognizing how serious the situation was.
The Colonel needed to get that out of the way, he needed them to know this was no ordinary mission, that no evacs would be possible. They were used to such, but not to such extremes. They always had a way out, something this mission didn’t provide.
Elizabeth took over once more. “You’ll meet the last two members of your team soon, but let’s get to it. I’m sure you’ve already heard, but I’ll repeat it. Loose lips sink ships, and I’m sure word has spread by now. So, as you all know, three weeks ago we lost a dozen members of 1st SFOD-D. They were under McClain’s command, had another two dozen at the ready. They went on a recon mission, engaged some Taliban, and entered a valley.” Elizabeth turned to Michael, motioning, then turned back.
A map appeared on the giant screen. Michael clicked a few buttons, the map zooming in on the Khost province, then deeper in, showing a landscape of nothingness.
“This is the valley they entered. They came from the west, climbed this ridge,” she said, pointing.
“What’s our reference point?” Dale asked.
“This valley is un-named,” she replied. “You do have GPS coordinates in your files, though.”
“It’s not named? These rags name all their places,” Thompson said.
“Not this valley,” Elizabeth said. “If you’ll notice, this area is shaded red. It’s a no-fly zone. Been that way for over twenty years, and I don’t expect it to change. Since we’ve been in Afghanistan, this valley has remained untouched.”
“Why’s that?” Dale asked.
“We’ll get to that. This Delta team, they climbed the ridge, and went down, despite orders to the contrary. They alleged there’s a village here,” she pointed to the center of the valley.”
“Don’t see one,” Clements remarked.
“It’s there. We estimate a few hundred. Maybe a thousand.”
“That where they got wasted?” Clements asked, knowing the bitter truth that the Delta team were long dead.
“Actually, no. Our last reports were that they found nothing in the village. No Taliban, no resistance,” she replied. “Then, we lost contact.”
“How’d that happen?” Dale asked, curious.
“Our redundant systems all failed,” Elizabeth said. “We had no visual, no voice contact. We heard some garbled bits and pieces, but even running it through our computers, we can’t tell what was said. Our last communication was that the village was clear.”
“Voice and video went out? How?” Dale asked.
“We don’t exactly know, though we have a few guesses. Even worse, we had no aerial surveillance. No coverage. As I said, it’s a no fly zone, so we couldn’t allow pilots in. We did, however, fly two drones over, and repositioned a satellite once we realized there was a problem.”
“You must have something,” Dale stated, not understanding.
“Everything was inoperable once they entered that village,” Elizabeth replied.
“How do you know they weren’t attacked by Taliban hiding out? Shit, if the village is that big . . .” Dale began.
“Remember Colombia, Sergeant Comstock?” she asked.
The other five Delta members turned to him, a curious look on their faces.
“Yeah. So?”
“Same thing . . . they weren’t killed by the villagers. They weren’t killed by Taliban,” Elizabeth stated.
“Then who the fuck killed them?” Clements asked in a loud voice.
Eli
zabeth ignored him for the moment, continuing, “There’s a cave. It’s on the far eastern side of the valley. This valley is right next to the border of Pakistan, and that western ridge is big, separates the two countries. It’s all mountains, a large range. The western side of the valley is highest, sits about six thousand feet high. The cave is hidden fairly well, approximately a hundred meters up.”
“So, you think they decided to check the cave?” Dale asked. “How’d they see it if it was hidden?”
“I know they did, Sergeant. The team went in. One of the villagers pointed it out. They proceeded up, found a path and climbed. Cave entrance is about twenty meters tall, thirty wide. By this point, we weren’t sure if they were receiving communications or not, but they’d been told to pull back. Went in anyway,” she said.
“That’s Delta,” Thompson smiled.
“They went in looking for any signs of resistance. After their firefight, having killed about thirty, they figured the cave might hold some more. Or they could get some INTEL. The team went in, and all hell broke loose.”
“How many were they up against?” Dale asked.
“We don’t know. We assume dozens, maybe more. It was certainly a trap. Your fellow members of The Unit, they did well. Got lots of kills. Died like heroes,” she said.
“Thought COMMS were out. How do you know this?” Dale asked.
“I was told this information by a reliable source.”
“How if they’re all dead?” Dale asked.
“Because, Sergeant, one lived. One survived,” Elizabeth said.
Surprised looks crossed their faces.
“Say again?”
“A Sergeant C. York, 1st SFOD-D, lived through the ordeal, though badly injured,” Elizabeth explained.
“What’s his condition?” Dale asked.
“Physically, he’s okay. He lucked out, that’s for sure. Would have died too, but was knocked out. Mentally, he’s having problems. He watched his teammates die,” she said glumly.
“Damn,” Clements whispered. He turned to Comstock, asking, “You heard of him? York?”
“No, don’t think so,” Dale replied.
“He’s been here only six months or so,” Elizabeth said. “Spent a few years in Iraq.”
Silence filled the room. Death was a certainty in war, but they gave the fallen men a moment of quiet. These were Delta who perished, their own, their brothers.
Finally, Dale looked up, asking, “Who was sent in next?”
“Nobody. Operations were shut down.”
“What? Why?”
“Major McClain threw a fit. You know him, he wanted to go in. Had his boys ready in an hour. Even convinced Kline to have some Rangers ready to go too.”
“Then what happened?”
“Once CIA caught word, they shut it all down.”
“Left them to die,” Dale said, glaring.
“They were already dead, Sergeant. The Army caved. They knew the area, knew the Delta boys weren’t supposed to be there. They disavowed everything, issued a cover story about a helicopter crash a few hundred miles away, and washed their hands of it. CIA took over from there.”
“Elizabeth, you could have done something,” Dale replied, annoyed. “You could have sent McClain’s team in.”
“I tried. The ball wasn’t in my hands until recently, Sergeant Comstock, and I don’t appreciate the insinuation. This valley, this cave, is of the greatest National Security risk perhaps ever,” she said gruffly.
“What do you mean?” Dale asked.
“This valley is the best kept secret in the world. This valley makes Area 51 seem like an amusement park. This is the real deal, gentlemen. My superiors needed to figure this out, to come up with a course of action. Though I might have acted differently, there’s one thing you must know. I agree with their decision. This valley is too important. It’s more important than a Delta team, and had York not survived, we might not be here today.”
“But we are here, and our brothers from The Unit got killed and the CIA, the Army—they did nothing,” Dale replied.
“It was the right call,” Elizabeth stated firmly.
57
“We have a policy in the Army, ma’am,” Jefferson said, interrupting and not caring. He was an intimidating man, his voice deep, booming. “Especially in The Unit, we have but one rule. Nobody gets left behind.”
“I understand, Sergeant,” she defended herself.
“No, you don’t seem to. And I get you’re top dog and all, but that’s just plain wrong. You didn’t follow what is tradition.”
“Sergeant Jefferson, if it would have been my decision, I would have allowed Major McClain to go in. To get his boys back,” she said, staring sharply. “That understood?”
“I hope that’s true,” Jefferson replied. “’Cause I’d sure like to know who made that call. Wouldn’t have been McClain, I know the man. Wouldn’t have been Kline, either. Who left ’em to die?” Jefferson was angry at the notion. He’d have risked life and limb to help any member of The Unit.
“It’s true, man,” Dale said to Jefferson.
Jefferson turned, saying, “What is, Dale?”
“She’s no liar. She would have sent them in.”
Jefferson eyed him, saying, “I’ve known you awhile now, Dale. You know this broad or something?”
“I do. I’ve done a few . . . tasks for her. She would have sent someone in to get our boys,” Dale said.
Jefferson nodded, though not quite satisfied. Turning back to Elizabeth, he asked, “Then who should I blame? The President? Who?”
“The President wouldn’t know of such important matters, Sergeant. I answer to only twelve, and you’ve been around long enough to know what that means. They didn’t make this decision lightly. They knew Delta was dead. They had to shut it down.”
“Then why we here?” Jefferson asked. “If no one’s supposed to go in, and if this ain’t no hostage rescue, why we going in?”
“Good question, Sergeant. We wouldn’t be, except for one little problem.”
“York,” Dale said, instantly figuring it out.
Elizabeth looked at him, nodding. “Sergeant York made it out alive.”
“You have first-hand INTEL, don’t you?” Dale asked.
“Yes. Much needed intelligence. Sergeant York’s testimony changed things. We don’t have a choice any longer. We have to go in,” Elizabeth said.
Dale nodded. “Fine. What’s our mission parameters, or is it simply to kill everyone in sight?”
“Officially, you’re to gather intelligence about the whereabouts of the lost Operators. We know they’re dead, but if you could confirm it, that’d help,” Elizabeth said. “Unofficially, you’re going in to inflict massive damage on an enemy to the likes you’ve never experienced before. I expect you to meet heavy resistance, heavy aggression. I expect you to return the favor.” Her stare was cold, menacing. She meant it, she wanted everyone in that cave dead.
“We can do that,” Clements bellowed. This mission wasn’t proving such a bad thing. He had no rules, could kill without worrying about fucking up. This didn’t sound all that bad to the man.
Dale glanced over, his friend’s confidence helpful, but the Sergeant had his reservations. “There’s forty capable Operators in Kabul. Why not bring them in? If the village has that many people, and if a dozen Delta can get taken out, we might as well come in full force. No Rangers, no air support—fine—but some more Delta would be nice,” Dale suggested.
“Your entry team is eight,” Elizabeth reminded.
“That makes no sense,” Dale said. He didn’t care if he was out of line, he would speak his mind. These were his men, his team, their lives on the line for what, he didn’t know. “The other two Delta?” he questioned, raising his eyebrows.
“No. One is a civilian, the other works for the Department of the Navy,” Elizabeth said. “DEVGRU.”
“What?” Clements shouted out, eyes wide. “Yer saying a SEAL is going with us?
”
“Yes, Sergeant, is that a problem?” Elizabeth asked sharply.
“It is, actually,” Clements responded, gritting his teeth. “I hate SEALs.”
58
“Well in that case, allow me to introduce Lieutenant Jeff Rivers. Like I said, he’s with the Department of Navy, though he works for Special Activities Division as a Special Operator,” Elizabeth said, motioning with her arm.
“Great, both a SEAL and a spook,” Clements muttered.
Elizabeth ignored the comment as the door opened. She went on, saying, “Lieutenant Rivers is a Tier One asset, has done work for my team on multiple occasions. He’s also been hand-selected for this mission, just like you men.”
“Hand-selected? Why?” Clements blurted out.
“Enough,” Dale cautioned.
“But Dale, there’s no ocean around here. No need for boats,” he said. He was both sarcastic and serious. Looking to Elizabeth, he said, “You’re really giving us a SEAL? Why not bring along a few guys from the Coast Guard while you’re at it?”
Rivers entered the room, still wearing the Hawaiian shirt with the same grin on his face, his AK-47 slung across his shoulder. He grinned at Clements, giving him a nod, then slipped his rifle from his shoulder. He placed it muzzle up, propped in the corner. Close-by. He nodded to Elizabeth as he found the nearest seat.
“Hi, Lizzy,” Rivers said.
She flashed a nasty look back.
Rivers then turned to Clements as he sat, sizing up the Delta member. “Yup, I’m a SEAL, all right. And like the lady said, hand-selected.”
“And yer operational?” Clements questioned him.
“You could say that,” Rivers replied.
“Well, I don’t mean to deflate your lifeboat, but there ain’t no water in these parts. Shit, hard enough to find a stream. Got that, frogman?”
“I’m DEVGU, actually,” Rivers said. “Though my time is occupied with Special Activities Division, like the woman said. I’ve been everywhere, including the water.”
Clements grinned, his lower lip packed with a fresh dip. “You sure you want some of this action, Vanilla SEAL?”
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