Jericho 3 (19 page)

The target house was now clearly visible across the street. There was a large house on the corner of Bannu Road and the smaller street. On the other side of the target house, another property seemed to sit with a vacant area between them.

The target house looked different than the seven houses on the street. Datta Khel Village had less than 200 tribesmen and families. The target house looked half sheet metal and half rock. It had more of a commercial feel to it, if anything in North Waziristan could be called commercial.

Geek’s binoculars were fixed on the smoke that rose out of the stack on the target house. He gave the signal. Chip moved up to Omid’s spot, checked both ways, then crossed over the short front wall, over the street, over the target house wall, and up next to the house. He pulled out his thermal imagery scope.

Four people. Chip gave three long clicks and a short click over his comms. Each member of Alpha Team knew the code that they would soon face three adults and a child. Camp had already lobbied for the preservation and rescue of Miriam’s son. He was denied. But Ferguson did provide an acceptable condition. If the boy could be saved, Alpha Team could bind and gag him, put him in a different location, and hope that the child’s discovery was made long after the team’s egress back through the Hindu Kush.

Three adults and a child meant the team had to go in with silence and surprise. Manson and Colt were the weapons specialists. Master Sergeant “Manson” would not be using his M203 grenade launcher mounted on the 9-inch barrel of his M4 for this part of the mission.

Manson and Colt moved over the wall past Omid, crossed the street, and over the wall and next to the building where Chip was crouched. Chip showed them the imagery. Manson used hand signals to send Colt to the rear southwest corner of the house.

Manson put three short clicks in burst over the comms as the explosives guys crossed and joined Manson and Chip. They looked at the imagery, and Manson sent another soldier to the back of the house with Colt.

On signal, Manson and his soldier would enter from the front as Colt and his soldier entered from the rear. Chip would hold back and watch the imagery unfold. The comms guys stayed back across the street in case things got out of hand and a drone was needed. CW2 “Brick” along with three of the Alpha soldiers stayed at ready distance across the street. If things went bad, Brick and his team would have to deliver some quick justice.

Sanchez, Billy Finn, Camp and three more soldiers crossed the wall, then the street, then the last wall. They would either be the second wave of support or the janitors to clean up the mess.

There were seven sheep, a goat, and an old burro within the walls of the compound. The sheep were bleating but not anymore than usual. The animals huddled close to Alpha Team members on both sides of the house.

According to Omid’s intelligence report, the building was a rambler with two long hallways of interconnected rooms and shorter hallways. The imagery suggested that an adult and a child were in the second room up from the rear door. The second adult was in a center room, and appeared to be working at a table. The third adult was sitting in a chair in the front of the house next to the heat glow that was the open fire pit.

If Alpha Team simply kicked in the doors and started shooting, the Taliban, tribesmen and Pakistani forces, if there were any in the area, would be at the house within seconds.

A soldier held a lamb in his arms as Manson slid the front door open. Colt opened the back door as his soldier held another sheep. On cue, Manson and Colt battered the tin on the door. A loud metal clang echoed from both sides of the house as two sheep entered bleating from both ends of the complex followed by Manson in the front and Colt in the rear.

The man warming himself by the fire cursed at the animal barging in through the front door in search of warmth. Before he could make it to his feet, Manson pushed the Carson flipper on his razor-sharp, triple-point, serrated Tanto M16T tactical knife and with a swift thrust cut through the man’s throat with decapitating force. Manson quietly laid his lifeless body back into the chair as his head snapped back and blood gushed through the gurgling crevice that was recently his neck.

Both sheep bleated louder and ran panic-stricken down the hallways.

The man in the back bedroom emerged through the doorframe looking down the hall as one of the sheep ran past him. He kicked wildly at the passing animal as Colt’s white titanium spearpoint penetrated the back of the man’s neck and out the front side of his throat somewhere around the fourth cervical vertebrae, just as Colt had hoped. He fell to the floor where Jazz finished the work.

Seeing his father fall to the ground surrounded by two men who looked like snow, the boy screamed from his bed.

The man in the center room heard the scream and picked his AK-47 up from the table in front of him and managed one step before another Alpha soldier grabbed his head from behind, and with one violent heave, broke the man’s neck as the lamb jumped over his crumpled body on the dirt floor.

Colt got his hand quickly over the boy’s face before another scream could sound. Within seconds a rag was in the boy’s mouth, and two rounds of tape covered the boy’s mouth, head and hair. Colt flipped the boy on his stomach and plastic restraints joined his hands behind his back and around his two ankles.

Colt carried the frightened boy out of the room and over his father’s body as he took him to the main room. Within seconds, eight soldiers along with Billy Finn and Camp stood by the fire as three terrorists lay dead in the house. Manson sent four short clicks – all clear – across the headset comms and Omid moved over the wall, across the street, over another wall and in through the front door.

The boy’s face was filled with terror.

“Tell him we’re not going to hurt him,” Camp said as Omid entered the room. “We’re here to find an American soldier. Tell us where the soldier is, and you’ll live.”

Omid spoke to the boy in Pashtu. The boy seemed confused by Omid’s Persian accent with extra Dari words.

“Does he know where the American is?” Camp demanded.

Omid translated. The boy nodded and head-pointed down the hallway toward the room he had been in with his father.  Colt carried the boy down the long hallway with Manson in front, Omid and two others trailing behind. When they got to the door near his father’s body, the boy shook his head and nodded toward the rear door instead.

“Outside?” Omid asked in Pashtu. The boy nodded.

Manson opened the door. In the backyard, next to the far wall, they could see a small shack.

“In that building?” Omid asked. The boy nodded again.

Colt took the boy back to the main room by the fire. Manson and two others – followed by two sheep that appeared much happier outside of the building than they were inside – approached the shed. Chip followed the three Alpha Teamers from the front after he saw them heading outside in the snow toward the shed.

With four weapons drawn, Chip pulled out the thermal imaging scope.

No heat. Nothing in the shed. The boy was lying.

Manson unhitched the door and walked into the six-by-eight wood cobbled feed shack. Light pouring through the wood boards illuminated the frozen stiff body of Dean Banks, MD., Board Certified Gynecologist with the Bucks County Women’s Health Clinic, and US Army Reservist on a four-month deployment to Afghanistan, and a single, solitary AK-47 gunshot wound to the head.

Camp and Billy Finn walked into the main room where the man with the broken neck was still sprawled out motionless on the ground.

“What the hell?” Camp said in muted tones as Finn inspected the table next to the bed.

“Some kind of a laboratory?” Finn asked.

“Or a Flintstones-era surgical suite.”

Camp picked through a box of assorted trash. With his knife he pawed at discarded items, bloody gauze, injectibles, syringes and packaging.

“Poly Prothese PIPs?” Finn asked as he read the label on the packaging Camp pulled out of the trash. “What’s that?”

“Silicone breast implants,” Camp said in bewilderment.

Finn walked over to the cabinet next to the prep table.

“Check it out…ether, rubbing alcohol, and several bottles of
this
stuff.”

“Ether? Looks like they were putting someone to sleep for surgery,” said Camp. “A bit archaic, but I guess it would do the trick. Looks like Russian scribbling on the bottles.”

Finn pulled out his small digital camera and started taking photos of the room, the trash and the mysterious bottles with Russian labels.

The body of Major Banks was carried inside and placed gently on the floor near the open fire pit. Colt moved the boy and placed him on a chair next to the man with the slit throat and nearly decapitated head. Veggie removed a body bag as Lynch unfolded the Tac4 foldable stretcher.

Camp walked into the room as the team prepared the body of Major Banks for his final return home. Camp moved closer to the major and slowly dropped down to one knee. The Alpha Team stopped their work and paused. Camp reached out and touched the frozen hand of Major Banks. He closed his eyes.

“God…we give thanks for this fallen warrior. He was a soldier, a father, a husband, a son, and our brother. Guide us as we bring him home.” Camp touched the face of his comrade then rose to his feet.

“This won’t stand, gentlemen,” Camp said to every eye in the room that was fixated on his leadership. “This man was a healer, a physician; a man who dedicated himself to providing medical care. Every man, woman and child on this earth is entitled to freedom. Major Dean Banks gave his life in the great cause of liberty. This will not stand. Let’s get him home.”

Camp walked over to the boy, smiled, and bent over by the child’s face.

“Which way are you going to go, son? Which path are you going to choose?” Camp rubbed the boy’s head and walked away as the child’s eyes followed him in horror. The boy didn’t understand a word Camp said or why Alpha Team had just killed his father. Alpha Team resumed their preparations for egress.

Omid glanced at his watch and became instantly agitated. “He’s dead. There’s no reason to move him out and through the Hindu Kush,” Omid said as he stood over Banks. Veggie jumped up and got in Omid’s face.

“We aren’t a bunch of Iranian dogs. We’re American soldiers, and we DO – NOT – LEAVE our soldiers behind!”

Manson motioned Veggie off and, with one eye seemingly fixed on his kill and another staring down Omid, he spoke. “Quick check of the house as Veggie and Lynch bag the major. We’re out in three.”

Omid left the room and wandered into the center room where Camp and Finn were back examining the lab.

“Breast implants? They kidnap a gynecologist and bring him to hell’s living room to do a boob job on a burka queen?” Finn asked.

Camp looked at the wall behind the bed.

“Looks like this is where they made the Facebook video,” Camp said.

“The Islamic Khilafah, the Shahada, the flag of jihad,” Omid said from the back of the room.

“Clearly the boy was with Miriam’s husband back there. I guess one of these other guys is Kazi,” Camp said to Finn.

“Kazi?” Omid asked. “How do
you
know the name Kazi?”

Camp and Finn moved quickly to Omid.

“How do you know the name Kazi?” Finn asked with full FBI investigatory tone.

“Kazi is a business consultant to Iran. He is used on several projects. He was educated in the states, a microbiologist who fashions himself as a doctor, a scientist type. He’s Pakistani but worked in The Netherlands before he was recruited.”

“Recruited? By whom?” Camp asked.

“ISI…Inter-Services Intelligence, Pakistan,” Omid answered.

“And the Iranian Revolutionary Guard?” Finn pressed.

“A freelancer, yes…but not to the Revolutionary Guard…he works with MISIRI.”

“MISIRI?” Camp asked.

“The Ministry of Intelligence and National Security of the Islamic Republic of Iran,” Finn answered.

“Kazi is not one of the dead guys, Captain Campbell. But you don’t want to be here if he comes back. He’ll be in the company of ISI.”

“Master Sergeant Manson! You’d better take a look at this,” a call came from the back of the house. Camp put one of the PIP packages in his pocket and followed Finn and Omid.

In the back room, behind a wall of curtains, Chip wheeled out a machine.

“What is it?” Sanchez asked. Manson put his flashlight beam on the side of the machine.

“The label says SkitoMister…made in Illinois,” Chip said.

“What the hell is that for? Do the Paki’s have a mosquito problem up here, Omid?” Manson asked.

“At this elevation? I doubt it,” Camp said as he moved in to take a closer look. “A mister…takes a liquid and turns it into a mist. Basically a sprayer.”

“How much does it weigh?” Manson asked.

Chip picked it up awkwardly.

“Eighty, maybe a hundred pounds.”

“Okay, we’ve got to get moving,” Sanchez said as he left the room.

“What do you want to do, Camp? If we blow it, the gig’s up. Everyone in Datta Khel will come outside to see the fireworks,” Manson said.

“Get Dex.”

“Dex!” Manson yelled as running boot steps approached down the hallway.

“Dex, did you put a beacon on Major Banks when you bagged him?” Camp asked.

“Affirmative, sir.”

“Unzip him. Hide the tracking device on the SkitoMister. Once we get back into the Hindu Kush, we’ll have the drone blow it up.”

“Roger that, sir.”

“What about the boy?” Manson asked. “He’s not coming with us.”

“I understand, Manson. Let’s put him in the vacant house across the street. It’ll take them a day or two to find him.”

The mission timer on Geek’s wrist watch indicated 19-minutes and 23-seconds. Three men, presumably Taliban or Haqqani Network were dead, the body of Army Major Dean Banks was bagged and mounted to the Tac4, and Miriam’s son – now orphaned from his insurgent father and his suicide bombing mother – was placed in a chair in a vacant house with no heat.

The Alpha Team climbed the back wall of the vacant house on the north side of the target street. Back in the grove of trees, tension grew as the snow subsided. The winds were howling and blowing, but the snow was diminishing. Camp couldn’t tell if his body was warm from adrenaline or if the temperatures were rising from the midday warm-up. The clouds had breaks in them but looked much darker.