by K. D. Lamb
On board the aircraft carrier, Glenn Carson was immediately taken to the ship’s hospital, where he was found to be in grave condition. Within twenty-four hours, though, he was out of danger and had improved enough to be upgraded to “critical” status. He remained in a medically induced coma, and it was decided that for the next few days he would stay on board the ship. For that reason, Fields was informed that he, too, would be continuing on the carrier for the time being. Israel needed to complete the long-awaited mission.
Paul Fields was not happy about it when he was so informed by the commander. He paced back and forth like a caged tiger. “Fine! I understand that I need to remain on board for a few days. But I would like immediate access to a telephone and computer to contact my family and my company.”
The Israeli commander frowned and shook his head. “I’m sorry, but that won’t be possible for at least twenty-four hours. We will be running sorties all day. We have worked very hard to rescue you. Our troops and aircraft have been put in harm’s way. We have a mission to accomplish, and we will succeed. Tomorrow, or rather later this morning, we will be running combat missions all day. But rest assured that the people who need to know about your recovery have been so informed.”
Fields was not assured at all. “Why? We’ve been rescued! Well, except for Kendall Radcliffe. What happened to her, anyway? Where is she?”
“Unfortunately, your rescue helicopter was about to take small arms fire. There was a platoon of soldiers in the building on its way up to the roof. The pilot had no choice but to take off with those already on board.”
Fields was uncomfortable having been rescued at the expense of Kendall’s being left to her own devices on the roof of the AIDC building. He had the decency to be embarrassed. He got rescued, but one of his employees, a female at that, got left behind.
“So, what’s happened to her? Is she dead? I saw the explosion. You blew up the goddamned building right after we took off! Why, in God’s name?”
The commander took a deep breath and maintained his composure. “Mr. Fields, it was necessary to take out that building. You have no idea what was going on in that building.”
“And you do? How?”
“We are not without our resources. I’m sorry, but that information is classified.”
“And what about Kendall Radcliffe? Is she classified too?” Fields barked with as much sarcasm as he could muster. He was shocked when the commander muttered under his breath, “Possibly.”
“What did you say? Is there something I need to know about Ms. Radcliffe?” Fields was a little taken aback at the subtle implication that Kendall’s being left behind might not have been an unfortunate or unplanned event.
“We’d like to speak with you about her, as well as the time you spent in Afghanistan, as soon as you’ve had some rest and a meal. Now, if you will follow Captain Abrams, he will show you to your suite on the lower deck.”
Fields was getting the distinct impression that he had gone from one kidnapping situation to another … of sorts. But this time he had a few more resources at his disposal.
As Fields turned to follow the captain, the commander spoke one last time. “Oh, and Mr. Fields, we will be posting an officer outside your room, should you need anything. Please don’t plan to wander about.”
Fields was furious and utterly deflated. That was precisely what he had planned to do: wander about. Now he knew for sure something was amiss. As he lay on his bed, he alternately worried about Carson, Kendall, Orion, and his family, in that order. He vowed that when he got out of there someone was going to have some explaining to do.
He was also intensely curious about Kendall. What was her role in all this? Was it just happenstance that she ended up on their charter flight? He replayed the events in his head. She hadn’t mixed her luggage with theirs. But she could have engineered it from behind the scenes, he reasoned. He was letting his imagination get the best of him. He fell into an exhausted sleep full of images of shootouts, chase scenes, computer hacking, rooftop rescues, bombings, fire, and death. He awoke bathed in sweat.
As rescues go, Mossad Director Benjamin Zimmerman was pleased. Those that counted had been rescued, and Israel would look like a hero in the world’s eyes. The ones not rescued would not be missed should they perish in Afghanistan … like Rashid Sharif, who no one knew about anyway, or Kendall Radcliffe, who if need be would be made to look like an instigator or willing participant with the drug kingpin, the late President Mujtaba Shazeb. The AIDC building had been destroyed, and along with it, the critical Afghanistan computer network that kept the infrastructure going on a daily basis.
The country had been brought to its knees and would soon descend into chaos. The president and his sons were dead … presumably. With a quick communiqué from Rashid during the time he and Paul Fields were deactivating the AIDC network, the Mossad had received the passwords and financial accounts to President Shazeb’s personal business enterprises. The Mossad had now liquidated and closed all of the president’s personal accounts. Zimmerman was a little surprised how few millions had been in Shazeb’s accounts, and had a queasy feeling in his stomach. He chose to ignore it … for the time being. All evidence of those accounts had also been destroyed as a result of the bombing. The only other location of the personal account information was at the Shazeb Palace. And the Mossad had craftily taken care of that … unbeknownst to Rashid.
Director Zimmerman knew that he had to be patient for the first communication from Rashid … if he perchance survived. In his mind, the execution of the rescue plan had been flawless. He could not imagine that Kendall was still alive. There was no way she would’ve been able to jump the ten feet between buildings. He knew that Rashid could do it, but doubted that Rashid would have stayed behind and been blown up with her … no matter how much he liked her. And if he had remained with her, then it would be a shame, as he was a valuable Israeli asset. A lot of investment had gone into his training. Ultimately, he had done his job. He had masterfully orchestrated the events leading up to the rescue, the president and sons were dead, the Afghan government offices destroyed, and the personal financial accounts siphoned off. The only remaining task was the strategic bombing of the poppy fields, manufacturing locations, and all transport trucks before they reached the Pakistan border the next day.
For the good of the nation of Israel, the Mossad and Israeli leaders had made a strategic decision that no word would leak out about the rescue of the Orion executives until after all the bombing was through the next day. That would only amount to a delay of twenty-four hours. After that, a huge PR event would be set in motion, complete with the appropriate fanfare and parade of heroes.
The plan was for the Orion executives to be displayed on live TV … or at least Paul Fields to be on camera. Carson would hopefully have sufficiently recovered so that his rescue would be seen by the world as a godsend as well. The Orion families and the U.S. would certainly understand and forgive the holdup on the announcement, so that Israel could complete the planned day of bombing without interruption or delay.
The various international spy agencies were abuzz. Covert operatives all over the world had detected that Afghanistan had gone dark. That meant either an upgrade in Afghanistan’s internal network that caused a severe country-wide shutdown that included the military’s systems, or that something unexpected and possibly disastrous had happened at the top of the leadership chain of command—with or to President Mujtaba Shazeb.
No one was particularly worried at either scenario. While the Afghanistan computer systems were considered to be sophisticated due to the last five years of heavy-handed modernization attempts, it was generally viewed that there were not enough computer science experts within the Afghan government and military to maintain those systems in prime working condition. If those in charge did not know what they were doing, as was suspected, it would not be hard to envision a catastrophic shutdown.
Certainly eyebrows were being raised within the whole internat
ional intelligence community. No one wanted to think about the alternative, that something untoward had happened to President Shazeb. It was generally believed that he’d become nothing but a tyrant and brutal dictator. His unsophisticated PR attempts had shown the world a somewhat modern society, with every citizen benefiting in some small way financially, through the sharing of oil and gas revenues. But for the past couple of years, the word was that Shazeb was hoarding hundreds of millions of dollars for his private coffers.
The future of Afghanistan was in doubt. Shazeb looked to be nothing more than another dictator who would run the country into the ground while the world pretended not to notice. But because it had stayed out of other countries’ businesses primarily by minding its own business and curtailing or brutally repressing any would-be home-grown terrorists for export, the country of Afghanistan had uneasily and reluctantly earned the begrudging respect of the international community. That translated to being left alone to run its own country as it saw fit. While it was true that the Afghanistan leaders kept its youth and young men within the borders of the country, President Shazeb had contributed tens of millions of dollars personally toward supporting terrorists in the Middle East. But the rest of the world had no inkling of that. So long as it wasn’t bombing any other country directly or exporting mayhem and disillusioned youth to exact vengeance and rage on other countries, the world had left Afghanistan to its own devices.
The same begrudging respect could not be said for the Shazeb boys, Saaqib and Ahmad. Their brutality and ruthless actions were legendary. Most countries avoided any attempts at crossing them or engaging them. As far as the world cared, those boys bore watching. If and when one of them succeeded his father, it would most certainly become an international issue. But with the current worldwide climate of aversion to interfering in any country’s governance, not to mention directing it toward the head of the country’s own kin, the boys’ behavior was observed and cautiously ignored … for the time being.
Nevertheless, the international intelligence community was on heightened alert. All available eyes were directed toward Afghanistan to get an idea of what was happening. The U.S. Department of Defense sent up Unmanned Aerial Vehicles, or drones, over Afghanistan to surveil the country. The smaller UAV MQ-9 Reaper was used for reconnaissance, to get closer to the ground for real-time pictures. The MQ-9 Reaper captured the first images of the destroyed AIDC building, followed by the burnt-out shell of President Shazeb’s former palace.
The Secretary of the Navy noted that Israel had an aircraft carrier positioned in the Arabian Sea just off Pakistan … in international waters. This was the ideal location if one were to launch an action in Afghanistan. While that was not unusual, as it patrolled those waters several times a year, it was more than coincidental that it was in perfect position for any strategic military activity in Afghanistan.
The U.S. leaders contacted their appropriate counterparts in Israel to find out the reason, if any, for the aircraft carrier’s presence at that precise location in the Arabian Sea. Of course, Israel denied any pending military action involving Afghanistan.
With the confirmation that the AIDC offices had been destroyed and Shazeb’s palace gutted, it was pretty clear that the president was either dead or on the run. Since he or his boys were not beloved around the world, the U.S. decided to observe from afar. At the same time, the Department of Defense raised the alert status for all the U.S. military branches.
A warship, destroyer, and aircraft carrier were deployed to the Arabian Sea, with several more standing by in the Indian Ocean, ready to assist. But it would be at least two days before any U.S. ship reached an area within striking distance of Afghanistan. In the interim, the U.S. would need to rely on its small contingent of troops at the al-Masanah Base, northeast of Muscat, in Oman.
As a result of the financial disaster of 2008, followed by a decade of high unemployment and recession, hard times were felt all around the world. There were simply not enough resources to keep all the U.S. bases running at full capacity. Many bases had experienced downsizing or even closure as funding dried up and congress refused to continue pouring money down the drain.
The U.S. had effectively stepped back from the world, choosing to isolate and regain its strength internally. U.S. presence around the world was not as visible, and it was no longer expected to automatically come to the aid of a struggling country every time it was needed. Nevertheless, this time the feeling was strong that U.S. military assets needed to be close at hand should they be required.
The U.S. intelligence community was already edgy over the mysteriously missing Orion people and the inability of the experts to locate them. There was an overwhelming feeling among the U.S. spy agencies that the Afghanistan events gave rise to a foreboding state of affairs. This time the U.S. could not afford to ignore world events. Besides, it had not had a naval exercise in over six months, and this would serve that purpose. But the irregularity of not informing the nearby countries, as was the standard operating procedure, would need to be adroitly handled by the most experienced and diplomatic of the U.S. top brass.
The U.S. scrambled to understand what was happening in Afghanistan and position its military to render assistance or intervene should whatever was occurring in Afghanistan spill over into the neighboring countries. It was definitely behind the eight ball and knew it. It sorely lacked critical intelligence and for the first time felt helpless as to the seemingly major events that were unfolding. It had been reduced to that of a spectator. What would be the upshot?
In the meantime, within twenty-four hours things disintegrated as strategic bombing and military sorties were begun in Afghanistan. Every U.S. spy agency and its international counterparts and nations sought to pore over the images coming to them from their respective countries’ drones. Nothing made sense. Why would ordinary farms, warehouses, and trucks be bombed with such precision and forethought, and all within one area of Afghanistan? It soon became clear that this had to be the major drug operation that Israel had referenced days earlier.
But why had it necessitated the destruction of the Afghanistan government building and presidential palace? There was only one answer. The president and possibly elements of the Afghan government were the operatives behind the Afghanistan drug business.
Even if some or all of that was true, why hadn’t Israel just told the international community of its plans? Why the secrecy? Why the deception and outright misdirection by Israel?
There was definitely more afoot than the international community realized. By the end of the next day, the rest of the world would be reeling at the rapidly unfolding events. Even Israel would be taken by surprise, as the result of its strategic mission devolved into lawlessness and more bloodshed.
CHAPTER THIRTY
BRAKING HARD IN AN EFFORT to control the swerving and out-of-control vehicle, Rashid finally brought the skidding jeep to a halt. He then reached over and grabbed Kendall’s arm to silence her scream. She hadn’t even realized she let out a sound. Rashid quickly pulled the night vision goggles off his head and turned on the headlights.
As they blinked in the harsh light, a young figure stepped out from a confusing movement of dark bodies on the road. Rashid looked closer and realized it was hundreds of goats. A young boy of maybe fourteen approached their vehicle. He apologized for being in their way and shining a bright light at them.
He explained that he and his cousin were herding the goats up a little higher into the mountains where the prime meadows were. This was the best time of night to move the large herd, when few vehicles were on the road. They had run into a large rock face that forced them to move into the road for a few hundred feet. He assured Rashid they would be off the road and out of their way in five minutes. Rashid was very relieved at the simple explanation. He lapsed into casual conversation with the goat herder as the jeep crawled along behind the rambling animals. Rashid translated for Kendall as he chatted with the goat herder at the back of the pack. The boy smil
ed shyly at Kendall. He stopped to talk to them but then darted about to redirect a wayward kid.
Apparently, the boys were in charge of some four hundred twenty-five sheep for twenty-two families. Kendall was fascinated. She did not see any brandings and asked how they could tell the sheep apart. The young goat herder proudly proclaimed that he had learned over the years how to distinguish each family’s goats. He was easily able to tell them apart.
Rashid rooted around in the back of the jeep and offered the young man a bottle of water and a chocolate bar. The goat herder eagerly accepted but would not stop to indulge himself until he could share his treats with his cousin. For the children in Afghanistan who had nothing to speak of, any act of charity was met with delight and thankfulness.
The goats and herders turned to proceed up the steep mountainside. Rashid and Kendall continued on their way west. The young goat herder at the back of the pack smiled and waved as the jeep rolled past. Rashid decided to leave the headlights on.
Kendall was now wide awake and wanted to talk. “Rashid, where are we going?”
“We’re going over the Shibar Pass into the Bamiyan Province or Valley.”
“Why there?”
“I have a friend, Jangi Khan, who is a farmer. I know he will help us.”
“How do you know you can trust him?”
“Because one day when I was traveling in the Bamiyan Valley for President Shazeb, I came upon Jangi. His truck was broken down on the side of the road, and he was on his way home. I was driving a military transport truck, so I towed him home.”