Gooseberry Island (8 page)

“Our latest intel puts Raqeeb at the same location, his mother’s flat, every Saturday night. So we’ll need you on a rooftop across from that flat. You’ll go in under the cover of darkness, twenty-three hundred hours on Wednesday.”

“Wednesday?”

“Yeah, you’ll need a few days to get settled in and learn the environment.”

David nodded, continuing to study the photo and burn his enemy’s face into his spinning mind.

“You’ll draw an SR-25 from the armorer. He’s expecting you.”

David nodded again. “Got it, Top.”

“And you’re being assigned Corporal Michaels as your spotter. He’ll carry your ammo and whatnot.”

“Perfect. Nate’s a good man,” David said, and he was right. For whatever reason, Nathan Michaels had proven himselfto beunusually talented when sniffing out bad guys.

“Given the location, I was tempted to send you in there alone,” the First Sergeant admitted.

“Because two men means twice the risk of getting caught?”

The First Sergeant nodded. “Exactly. This mission’s going to require as much stealth as you can muster, so you boys will have to pull off a quick hit and run.” This meant they’d be stripped of any identification and, if caught, they were pretty much on their own.

“Understood, Top,” David said.

“Son, Raqeeb is a real bad guy. Who knows how many American lives you’ll be saving if you can bag him.”

“If Raqeeb shows his face, I’ll do my job. You have my word on it.”

He searched David’s face. “Remember, McClain, your mission is to ascertain the target and remove the threat—nothing more, nothing less. It’s imperative to keep any and all emotion out of it. Emotions jeopardize missions and put our lives in harm’s way. You understand?”

“I do, Top. One shot, one kill.”

“Good. And if you and Michaels can slip out right away, great. If not, you’ll need to wait it out until the right opportunity presents itself.”

“So no backup on this one then?”

“We’re rangers, McClain. Obviously, if the shit really hits the fan, we won’t leave you out there for dead. But for the most part, you boys will be on your own. It’s up to you to get out of there.” He peered hard into David’s eyes. “You up for this, son? I realize it’s a lot to ask. But you’re our best chance at…”

“I got this, Top. Like I said, I’ll do my job.”

The First Sergeant smiled and placed his hand on David’s shoulder. “Hoo-ah,” he said.

“Hoo-ah,” David echoed.

David sprinted down to the communications tent and logged onto his email account. He was happy to find that he had a message from Lindsey in his inbox:

Hi handsome,

Just been thinking about you and wanted to drop you a quick line to let you know that you’re not alone, even if it might feel like you are sometimes over there.Keep your attitude positive and strong, David, and know that you’re in my prayers.

Love,

Lindsey

Love,
he repeated in his head and grinned. These whispers from home made all the difference in his darkened world. He hit reply and wrote:

Beautiful, I’ve been thinking of you too—always! I’ll be in touch in a few days. Getting farmed out to another unit. No big deal. Just work. I’ll be dreaming about you the whole time. Love you, David

Dressed as Afghan locals, David and Nate slithered through several back alleyways, moving quickly within the shadows
. As though they’d been residents all their lives, they reached their location, accessed the building and ascended the stairs. Once they reached the rooftop, they chalked the door so that no one could follow in their quiet footsteps.
The downside
, David thought,
is that we’re trapped like rats
.

While David put in his ear piece and checked that his microphone was strapped to his neck where it could pick up the slightest whisper, Nate conducted a communications check over a secured net.
Seems odd,
David thought,
considering we’ve been told we’re pretty much on our own out here
. He looked at Nate, thinking,
No matter how this goes down, the cavalry isn’t coming for a while
.

The radio stuttered one last time. The commo check was successful, and both soldiers went silent.

The mission was specific and clear; he and Nate were tasked to remove one target, a high-ranking official within the Taliban ranks. According to current military intelligence reports, Mullah Abdul Raqeeb visited his mother in the neighborhood, though the frequency varied from weekly to once a month. It didn’t matter. Their job was to secure a position—unseen—and remain there until they could obtain their target and complete the mission.
One shot, one kill,
David told himself again. A second shot might give away their position as the enemy would be looking for muzzle flashes, echoed sounds, or movement.
Movement is our greatest enemy
, David reminded himself. And they’d do whatever they had to do to get out of there alive;
either get out right away or wait for as long as needed
. This took discipline and minds that could wander to kinder places without giving away their position.

From the moment they lay prone on the rooftop, David went through the checklist—an invisible range card—in his head. Methodically scanning the street below, he studied left to right and back again; it was an invisible grid that covered every inch.
Rooftops, no movement,
he mentally checked off.
Her windows, nothing. Southwest corner, no one. Street is clear. Southeast corner, no one.

He and Nate needed to become quickly acclimated to their new environment. It could mean the difference between success and failure, life and death. David was cast into a heightened vigilance that teetered on sheer panic. The sounds from the street below were so foreign and frightening at first. His heart beating hard in his ears, he told himself,
Control your breathing…and do your job!
These words had been pounded into his head since the first day of training: controlled breathing was critical to success. He took three deep breaths and resumed his scan.
Rooftops, no movement. Her windows, nothing. Southwest corner, no one. Street is clear. Southeast corner, no one.
He took more deep breaths.
Slow down
, he told himself, firmly.
Relax
.

Night crawled into day, but neither he nor Nathan was able to sleep.

In the morning, David went through his usual checklist as he’d conducted hundreds of times already.
Rooftops, no movement. Her windows, nothing. Southwest corner, no one. Street is clear. Southeast corner, no one.
He looked sideways toward Nate, who was going through the same relentless scan. Their job was to pick up movement or anything out of the ordinary. When the environment and everything in it became normal—which didn’t take as long as David once thought—the intense vigilance was driven by a deep-seated training, which proved just as effective.

The position of the blinding sun, as well as shadows creeping up the walls, were just some of the things to be taken into account. Besides wind and elevation, these would be factored in before taking a shot. The trick was to be three chess moves ahead of an enemy that only knew how to play checkers.

With the hot wind whistling over the black rooftop, the sounds from the street below soon became familiar. Each one was distinct in its own right: a vendor hawking his wares in his foreign tongue; window shutters opening and closing at the same time each day by an old woman hanging out the day’s wash; children playing soccer; an old man with a limp, dragging his dead foot behind him. Even civilian vehicles began to sound very different from military vehicles.

Rooftops, no movement. Her windows, nothing
, David checked off.
Southwest corner, no one. Street is clear. Southeast corner, no one.

To help pass the time, David eventually created a backstory for each of these people;
the old man’s a war hero, the limp a souvenir from an incoming mortar round.
David also imagined several of the kids playing professional soccer as adults.

And then there was always Lindsey.
I wonder what she’s doing right now,
he thought.

With her motion sickness wristband fastened securely, Lindsey met Courtney and Christine on the dock a half hour early for the whale watch and checked in.

A preoccupied teenager shuffled them onto the boat where they met an earthy, crunchy naturalist. “I’m Jenna,” she said. “Our captain for today is George Cournoyer, and Randy will be our first mate.”

“What does the first mate do?” Christine asked, ready to get the day underway.

“You’ll see him preparing the boat to depart and dock. He fixes things, helps in the galley…pretty much everything.” She sized up the two women and smiled. “Now tell me what your jobs are today.”

They stared blankly.

“To listen, be safe and have fun.”

“Fun, fun,” Christine repeated, being a smart ass.

Watching the whales along Stellwagen Bank promised to be the experience of a lifetime. Cape Cod was the feeding ground for the world’s largest mammals—majestic creatures that could measure up to seventy feet long and weigh sixty-five tons. With her Red Sox ball cap pulled down tightly, Lindsey felt excited.

As they moved across the bay, the harbor slowly faded away and the shores of Cape Cod became visible. They could make out the tip of the Cape by the Provincetown monument and the Race Point Lighthouse. The weather was so clear, Jenna pointed out the crest of the Boston skyline.

The sea conditions were fair. After Courtney concluded her tough line of questioning, the three ladies sat back and enjoyed the smooth ride on the open deck. There was no better place.

“How’s David?” Christine asked Lindsey.

“He’s good,” Lindsey quickly replied.

“At least that’s the story she’s sticking with,” Courtney said, half-joking.

“He’s fine,” Lindsey said, trying to convince herself just as much as her friends.

Their cruise out to the whales took all of an hour. As Jenna was describing the maritime colleges on the Cape, one of the giants surfaced, blew a stream of water straight into the air and looked at them. Jenna went right to work. “If everyone will look on the right side of the boat, you’ll see our friend the fin whale.”

People quickly shifted positions.

“Weighing up to sixty tons, the fin whale is the second largest of the great whales and can reach a maximum length of about eighty feet. It’s one of the fastest of the great whales and has even been called the ‘Greyhound of the Seas.’ As you can see, fin whales are black on the right side of their lower jaw and white on the left. The reasons for this are unknown, but it may have something to do with their feeding habits.”

The loner whale submerged itself and disappeared.

“The finner eats small fish as well as krill. Fin whales used to be hunted in the Antarctic, but their numbers became so few that they’re now protected.”

“Did you see that?” Lindsey asked the girls, excitedly.

“How could we miss it?” Courtney asked.

“And we’re just getting started,” Jenna added.

Twenty minutes later, three more monsters swam alongside the boat. “These are minke whales,” Jenna explained. “At a maximum of thirty feet, the minke is the smallest of the grooved whales. There are northern and southern minkes. The northern minke can be distinguished by a broad white stripe on its flipper that does not appear in the southern breed.”

“Which are these?” Christine asked.

“These are our northern friends coming by to say hello.”

Some of the kids on the boat waved at the threesome. Suddenly, two more appeared and then another five.
We’re in the middle of a herd
, Lindsey thought.

Caught up in the moment and forgetting themselves, Courtney and Christine started waving until the first whale headed in a different direction, leading the rest away from the boat. Lindsey saw this and laughed.

After an hour of scanning the water, someone yelled out that they’d spotted something off the port side. Jenna hurried over and surveyed the scene. “Those are Atlantic white-sided dolphins, also known as jumpers. They’re sometimes found in herds that can number into the hundreds. They’re cautious around boats and won’t swim in bow waves.”

One of them leaped from the water and was followed by another. And then they went under and were gone.

“These two look like stragglers,” Jenna said. “They feed on squid and fish, and it’s believed that dolphins can communicate with each other by making sounds like barks, groans, chirps, and whistles. They also communicate by means of body posture and by slapping their flukes on the water’s surface.”

Lindsey inhaled deeply and looked around. She exhaled in a purr, feeling such peace among all the natural beauty that surrounded them.
It’s so amazing,
she thought,
I really have to share this with David when he gets home
.

I have to pee
, David thought, still lying on the rooftop and looking through the cross hairs of a sniper scope. He slowly placed his arm beneath his prone chest and checked his wristwatch.
Two hours ’til dark
. He pulled his arm back out and placed it back on his rifle.
You don’t have to pee that bad,
he lied to himself.
And worse case, just go in place.
He smiled.
I’m guessing that Nate’s already pissed himself a few times anyway.

It took real discipline to suspend all movement and noise—even heavy breathing. For those who smoked, they couldn’t. For those who snored, they couldn’t sleep—or it could spell death.

It was human nature for people to take even the smallest things for granted, and David and Nate quickly learned that deprivation was the greatest teacher of appreciation. Three hots and a cot had been replaced by vacuum-sealed dehydrated meals and seated cat naps. Squatting now took the place of sitting comfortably on a toilet, followed by waste retrieval in a Ziploc bag. There could be no evidence of their presence left behind—none.

For David, a sweet kiss and warm hug were replaced by daydreams and a longing for Lindsey, until he could no longer afford the bittersweet luxury while carrying out their mission.

When the scan became subconscious—like driving a car home without knowing how you got there—David’s thoughts could safely drift to home, all the way back to Lindsey.
I wonder what’s she’s doing right now,
he wondered.
Rooftops, no movement. Southwest corner, no one. I bet she’s at the beach, looking up at the stars and thinking of me. Southeast corner, no one.
And then David allowed his mind a brief glimpse of a happier time in a much safer place.

David and Lindsey sat on their bench, watching as the moonlight illuminated the amazing canvas before them. While the waves kept rhythm to the pulse of life, the night sky was filled with a million stars keeping watch over all of it.

Lindsey lay with her head on his shoulder, the two of them gazing up in quiet reflection.

“Are you afraid, David?” Lindsey asked out of the blue.

He nodded. “I am,” he admitted. “Every time I look at you for too long, I’m scared that I’ll never remember what life was like before I met you.”

“Good answer,” she said, playfully slapping his arm. “What I meant was, are you afraid of going over there to Afghanistan?” She locked onto his eyes.

He never hesitated. “Absolutely not,” he said confidently.

“Not even a little?” she asked, surprised.

He shook his head. “Long ago, I made a habit of not fearing what I don’t know,” he explained. “And as a soldier, fear is your worst enemy. My job is to focus on the task at hand, the mission, and trust that my training and the men I serve with will get me to the other side of whatever I have to face.”

She looked back into the night sky, thinking about what he’d just said, and then nodded. “Good,” she whispered. “That makes me feel better.”

“Good,” he repeated, grinning.

And then Lindsey’s smile passed much too quickly from his mind. Out of the corner of his eye, David spotted movement on a rooftop adjacent to their location, one story higher. While focusing on their frontal scan, David and Nate had nearly been caught and didn’t even realize it.

Oh shit,
David thought, and threw a pebble at Nathan to get his attention.

Nate looked his way. David slowly pointed at the Afghan local on the next rooftop. Nate low-crawled to David’s position, where they covered themselves in the thick black tarp they’d brought along for such a situation, camouflaging their position.

Within seconds, David began to sweat profusely, while his breathing quickened.
I’m cooking in my own juices
, he thought, but realized that he needed to remain calm if they were going to survive in the heavy boiler bag.
Survival depends on a man’s ability to control panic,
David told himself.
A thinking man has a better chance of living another day.

He could feel Nate lying next to him, trying to calm his own breathing. David recited the Rangers Creed in his head, followed by several “Our Fathers.”

Remember your training
, David told himself.
Revert back to your training…