Beyond the Checkpoint

by Addison M. Conley

  Smiling, Ali said, “So, I assume a FOB isn’t a remote car key.”

  “Forward operating base. The smaller ones are called COPs for combat outposts. You’ll get to see several on your tour.”

  “I’m assigned to headquarters in Kabul.”

  “There’ll always be a few side trips. Don’t want you to miss your chance to visit a few garden spots.”

  She leaned towards him. “Why are there Russians on base?”

  “They’re not. Those women are from Kyrgyzstan. They work in services like the barbershop. By the way, where’s your safety reflective belt? It’s required when walking around, especially on Disney. The police will stop you if you’re not wearing it.”

  “My belt’s in my bag.” He seemed to have a sense of humor. She replied in deadpan voice with a hint of a smile creeping into the corner of her mouth. “What’s Disney? I can barely stand roller coasters, but Magic Mountain’s okay.”

  He chuckled. “The main road through the base, and one of the few that are paved. It’s named after Army Specialist Jason Disney who died at Bagram in 2002.”

  Ali pointed at the tent. “Why am I in there?” This time, she stared him down.

  “Sorry. One of my assistants made a slip up. Don’t worry. You’ll be in Kabul soon enough.” He smirked. “Got you a first-class ticket. Grab your gear and let’s go.”

  As Ali walked into the briefing room, Major Stewart approached her.

  “Ms. Clairmont, I’m sorry about the tent. I can’t believe they stuck you with uncleared foreign workers. I’ll make sure it doesn’t happen again.”

  “No worries, Major.” Ali shrugged and breathed in Lynn’s fresh shower scent.

  “We leave tomorrow on the midday helo flight. Let’s meet up for a late breakfast and head over to the terminal together.”

  “Major Stewart, Ms. Clairmont is leaving later today.”

  Lynn turned to the man. “Excuse me? And you are?”

  “Ben Williams, NGA Logistics.”

  “I want Ms. Clairmont traveling with me. That’s not a request.”

  “With all due respect to your rank ma’am, she isn’t under your command until she reports in Kabul.”

  Lynn squared her shoulders. “NGA assigned her to my team. She travels with me.”

  “We canceled her helo flight, and it was immediately filled. She’s scheduled for the Rhino at 1600. The last I checked, there were two empty seats, I could book one for you, if you prefer.”

  Lynn heard a man clear his throat behind her. She spun around and snapped to attention as the colonel in charge stood in the room.

  “I’m sorry there’s been a miscommunication, Major Stewart. The Rhino is NGA standard procedure. I approved her travel.”

  “Yes, Colonel. In that case, I would like a seat on the Rhino.” Everyone immediately hushed.

  The colonel looked like he’d bite off Lynn’s head, then he chuckled. “Fine with me. Mr. Williams, see if you can iron out Major Stewart’s new arrangements with NSA. I’m pressed for time. Let’s start the meeting.”

  Ali sat back and soaked up the briefing, and the meeting flew by in no time.

  “Major,” Ben squared his shoulders, “NSA demands that you remain on the helo roster for tomorrow. You’ll have to meet up in Kabul. Ms. Clairmont’s gear is already in the truck.” He turned to Ali. “The shoppette and coffee shop are on the way. If we leave now, you’ll have an hour to relax. My assistant will drive you.”

  Lynn turned to Ali. “I’ll go with you and buy you a coffee.”

  Outside the tiny Green Beans Coffeehouse, Lynn seemed preoccupied. Ali assumed it was because of the uncomfortable exchange back at the meeting.

  “Where are you from, Major?”

  “Sacramento, California. All of my family lives there except for an aunt in Virginia and one in Florida.” Lynn’s tone showed her affection for her family. “Where did you grow up?”

  “Fairfax, Virginia.”

  “Ah, so you’re used to the hectic pace of Washington, D.C.”

  “I wouldn’t go that far. I can’t stand the traffic. Fortunately, the new NGA headquarters is being built outside the Beltway.”

  The driver shouted, “Time to go.”

  “Take care, Ms. Clairmont, and I’ll see you tomorrow in Kabul.”

  “Sure thing, Major.”

  Ali reasoned the major rarely deviated from protocol. While civilians were more casual, addressing folks by their proper honorific was the military way. And she’s welcome to address me anyway she wants. The woman is totally hot. Ali grinned as she walked to the truck.

  She slid into the back seat of the truck next to a young man who introduced himself as Lieutenant Paul Taylor.

  His palm was sweaty. “I’m a little nervous. My buddy had a bad experience on a Rhino.”

  The driver followed a route away from the airfield. Maybe there’s another airstrip. When he stopped next to a small building, Ali froze.

  “The Rhino’s an armored bus?” The man didn’t answer her. She took another look. “And the double-cab pickup with a machine gun in the bed is the security escort? Are you kidding me?” Her last words rose in volume, and a mix of anxiety and dread settled in her stomach.

  “It’s time to leave.” He motioned for them to get out.

  “We will be like fish in a barrel if that thing breaks down!” She turned to Paul. “Sorry.” The color drained from his face.

  “I wasn’t asking you to move. I was telling you. Now!”

  They unloaded, and the driver didn’t bother waiting around. A long trail of dust drifted in the air as he sped away.

  Shortly after the Rhino departed, Paul tugged on his neck guard. “I’m burning up, and I can’t breathe in this tin can.”

  Beads of sweat glistened on his face. They were required to wear their body armor vests, but Paul wore all the pieces. The groin plate and neck guard were uncomfortable. Ali’s were in her backpack.

  “I’m hot, too.” Ali checked the overhead vents. The air was warm, and no matter how she turned the ports, only a small amount came out.

  “Let’s talk about fun things. It will help take our mind off the situation. Where are you from, Lieutenant?”

  “Please, call me Paul. Albany, New York is my hometown.”

  She let him do most of the talking, as it seemed to calm him.

  “What’s your job, Paul? If you can say.”

  “ISAF headquarters was recommended to round out my career. I thought that I’d be working with NATO representatives, but I was switched at the last minute to be the aide to a full bird colonel.”

  “Sounds like it may have a few perks. That is, once you’re out of this tin can.” She smiled.

  “Possibly.” He leaned over. “I don’t know if it’s true, but apparently the colonel’s been passed over for promotion. He has gone through two aides and has a rough reputation. It’s going to be a challenge because I’m up for promotion to captain soon.”

  “Which means a lot of taking it in the chops.”

  “You got it.”

  The convoy arrived in Kabul around sunset. Ali lightly punched Paul. “Logistics straight ahead. If this guy is rude, I might just slap him and blame it on a work-related psychological breakdown. They always say us civilians aren’t as disciplined as the military.”

  “Well, I feel like a zombie, and I’m hungry.”

  They both snickered at their lame jokes.

  “Welcome to Camp Eggers. I’ll take your gear and drop you at the chow hall.”

  Wow, what a pleasant change. Ali happily stripped off her body armor. The evening breeze cooled her sweaty skin.

  At dinner, Paul’s wicked sense of humor had her in stitches. They also filled the time chatting about travel and hiking trips. When the topic turned to games, Ali was delighted to hear Paul was a chess player.

  Her watch alarm went off. “Damn. Time to go. Hey, pick us up some extra drinks, and I’ll dump our trash.”

  “Yes, ma’am.”
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br />   Passing a group of young soldiers, one heckled. “You like a little chocolate, honey? Don’t you have the roles reversed?”

  Ali dumped the trash and tossed the tray on the carousel with a clatter. She turned around to face them and saw Paul standing next to the table.

  “Good evening, soldiers. Did I hear a derogatory comment?” After a couple of seconds of silence, Paul said, “Soldiers are not rude. I think you owe an apology to my colleague and friend.” Paul gestured to Ali standing several feet away, but his eyes remained on the men. “Snap to it!” The group jumped out of their seats at attention and apologized.

  “That’s better.” Paul leaned over and said something that she couldn’t hear.

  Outside, she waited until they were away from the building before asking him, “What was it you said?”

  “I told them to respect all women. Also, your retired father was a tough old general that made me promise to watch out for you,” he smirked.

  “Wow. That was creative.” Ali laughed. “I’m glad we met. We could both use a friend in this place.”

  “And it’s not against regulations since you’re with JETT and not in my chain of command. Besides, how many nerds around here like chess? You know I’m going to crush you.”

  “I have a few Irina Krush moves. Better watch out.”

  Paul stopped her before they reached the office. “It’s a shame that crap still exists despite all the progress in our country and the military.” He glanced around. “And while I relish being in your company, no offense, but you’re a tad too old for me.” His serious face broke, and he bent over heaving out coughs of laughter.

  Ali’s face broke into a broad smile. With her hands on her hips, she said “Okay, buddy. This old woman is going to whip your ass at headquarters. Better stay out of my way.”

  “Yes, ma’am.” Paul nodded. “But seriously, I’ve got your back.”

  “I appreciate that.” Ali stuck out her hand. “Let’s shake on friendship, but watch the old lady name calling, or I’ll beat you with my cane.”

  Chapter 4

  May 2008 – Kabul, Afghanistan

  Ali drummed her fingers as she scanned the available file of helicopter reconnaissance photos. These are not the quality I expected. The interactive map was due in six days. Embedding the right images in the digital product would provide more information to execute the raid. Her stomach growled.

  “Where the hell are those guys?” She mumbled, leaning back in the desk chair and surveying the operations floor. The JETT workstations were in the back-corner row facing toward the center. She liked the location. It gave her the opportunity to see everything, and the privacy to work relatively uninterrupted.

  Six weeks in Afghanistan had gone by quickly, and Ali easily fit into working with JETT. She loved the Operations Center. While the worn paint, the lack of windows, and the outside perimeter double-fence topped with concertina wire made the place look more like a prison, it had a unique vibe. All the analysts, operators, and briefers from different services and agencies melded into one cohesive unit that provided the guts of the intelligence to drive combat operations.

  Whoosh.

  “Yes!” The screen filled with an email on the Al Qaeda network they were trying to pin down. She made a few notes and forwarded the message to the other JETT members.

  “All right, Ace, leftover heaven awaits you.”

  Ali smiled at the nickname. “About damn time, Henderson. Chow line is only open for another forty-five minutes. Bet they served steak tonight, and you ate it all up. Where’s the rest of the team?”

  “Stopped at the rec center. Several care packages were in the lobby.” He tossed her a tube of hand cream. “I snagged it before it was gone.”

  Ali rose to high-five him, but the six-foot-one hulk moved his hand high and grinned before lowering it for her to reach.

  “Anything interesting happening?” He asked.

  Her hands flew up, palm upwards. “Another power outage for about five minutes until generators kicked in and servers rebooted. I had problems with the satellite link, but thank God I didn’t have to go on the roof and reset the box. This shit is getting old.”

  “I heard they’ve got new generators coming in, which should take care of things.”

  “I hope so. Someone’s going to get hurt if this happens in the middle of a mission.” Ali slipped on her jacket. “Oh, I forwarded an email on Al Qaeda number three. I hope we take him down soon. Looks like your genius in signal and electronics intelligence is paying off. Some coordinates also appear to match our other suspect’s location.”

  “I’ll check it out. What else are you working on?” He stuck a piece of candy in his mouth. Ali wondered if he ever stopped eating.

  “Spatial-temporal analysis—”

  “Hold on a minute. In English, please.”

  “I’m trying to identify unusual enemy patterns by tracking their activity from reports, then geographically plotting the data with time stamps. If I’m lucky, I might be able to predict future weapons deliveries.”

  He crossed his eyes, stuck out his tongue sideways, and titled his head. Ali grinned and tossed a small squishy ball at him. “The final product will be an interactive map with ground and helicopter reconnaissance photos embedded and other report links. Speaking of which, I need more recon photos. You do remember how to take a picture with a camera?”

  “Of course. I have my special flock of pigeons out back. Now, get going.” Henderson thumbed toward the door. “The beautiful night aroma awaits you. Better take your scarf.” His white teeth gleamed.

  Just outside the door, Ali choked. Holding her breath, she pulled her handkerchief out of a pocket and tied it across her face. Tonight was wretched. God knows what the hell is in the air. The Afghans burned animal dung to heat their homes, and there was also the U.S. Army burn pit outside the city. The military swore it didn’t affect public health.

  The cloth over her mouth and nose did little to help, and the nights were always the worst. Between the air pollution and every fourth water bottle tasting like chemicals, she figured everyone got a dose of poison. Guess that’s why we get hazard pay. She picked up her pace.

  With minutes to spare, she hurried through the mandatory wash station and to the serving line. The young man gave her tonight’s meal—some sort of stew—then heaped extra noodles onto a separate plate. They knew her well enough not to put sauce on top.

  “Salamat,” she said.

  He slightly bowed, then lowered his face trying to hide a blush. Many of the Filipinos worked in the lower positions on base. Ali figured it was only polite to learn basic greetings, especially with the chow-hall staff.

  Unable to identify the meat by taste or texture, she pushed the stew aside and took a mouthful of noodles. Ah, that’s better. Smear enough Kerrygold butter and voilà. Delicious. She savored the simple pleasure and began reading the Stars and Stripes. Most of the newspaper articles were cheerful and aimed at boosting morale.

  “Mind if I join you?”

  Ali looked up into Lynn’s blue eyes.

  “Please do. What keeps you up tonight, Major?”

  “The top dog called a late meeting. Seems lack of sleep is a method he uses to keep us on our toes. I had to brief them.” Lynn scooped a big spoonful of the mystery stew into her mouth.

  “Better watch out. I swear that stew is half rubber, and I never get the biscuits. They’re like hockey pucks.”

  “There’s nothing I can’t handle. Why are you always alone when I see you at midnight chow?”

  Ali swallowed. “Peace and quiet.”

  Lynn cocked an eyebrow. “Yes, but at least one team member could keep you company. After all, look around. Have you ever been in a more romantic school cafeteria?”

  Ali chuckled. “I confess. I’m attracted to the long, folding picnic-style tables.”

  Lynn smiled. “They are charming. Now, please tell me the real reason? Are you having a problem with the team?”

&n
bsp; “No, oh, no.” Ali waved her hand. “I’m a bit of an introvert. I love the team, but just need some time to recharge my batteries.” Confess, you chicken. “And if we’re not swamped and everything’s on schedule, they let me take an extra half hour to skype or call home. I promise I don’t do it every night.”

  “It’s important to stay connected, especially in this place.”

  “Yes. I helped my cousin remodel half of my sister’s place, and now they’re finishing it off without me.”

  “Now you’re talking my language.” Lynn snapped her fingers. “What are your skills?”

  The beginning of warmth started on Ali’s neck and quickly blossomed on her face. “Interior decorating. Not hardly a skill. Well, I mean…I don’t have a degree or anything. I just dabble.”

  “Excuse me? I’d say that is a critical skill, and sometimes on-the-job experience is better than a degree. My family owns a construction business. I like to build things and worked there every summer in high school and college. But it’s the final decorating touches that make a home.”

  “Thank you.” Lynn’s compliment and smile sent a zing of excitement through Ali.

  “I remember you showing the team the photos of your house. It is gorgeous. You also mentioned selling it. Are you taking on another project or just want a different space?”

  “My partner and I split. She left me some steep bills, and I can’t afford to sell now. I’ll hang onto it and sell once the market improves.” Ali’s hand, which was lifting a carton of milk, stopped halfway to her mouth. Shit. Why did I say that? Lynn continued to chew her food but was staring down at her tray. Is she thinking about how to reprimand me? Or worse?

  “I’m sorry to hear that your relationship broke up.”

  After several long seconds, Lynn pushed the half-eaten dish away. The spoon rattled against the side of the bowl. Ali held her breath, fearing what was next.

  Lynn wore a scowl, and her eyes narrowed. “You’re right. The stew sucks. I’m going to grab another drink. Want one?”

  Ali released the air from her lungs and mumbled, “Sure.”