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Less than five minutes after the first chopper arrived, it touched down safely on the hard-packed clay. Thirteen SEALs and two officers stood over a line of fanned-out prisoners, all disarmed and zip-tied and face down in the dust.

“Medina, right?”

The man addressing me by my last name was as grizzled as they came. He stomped over confidently, the dark hair peeking out beneath his hat all streaked with grey.

“Yes Chief,” I saluted.

He extended his hand. I shook it, while he measured me with his eyes.

“Chief Rogan. Team Four, third platoon.”

“I know who you are, sir.”

“Good. Now why the fuck are you grinning?”

I wasn’t even aware I had been. As the man stood waiting for an answer, I couldn’t do anything but shrug.

“I really didn’t think you were coming.”

The Chief scowled and removed his hat. “You shitting me son? After what you told us?”

I wanted to laugh. Not at the man, but at the situation. It was all so absurd, so totally insane. It would take a whole day to explain it, and another week to—

“Of course we came! Woodward was pretty goddamn insistent. Between him and what I read of your service record, we couldn’t not come.” He paused for a moment. “Although there was some pushback…”

For a few seconds he looked thoughtful, as if considering something unpleasant. Then he shook his head.

“This is a right fucking mess, son,” the Chief spat, looking around. “You know that?”

“Oh I know it, sir.”

“Quit all that ‘sir’ shit and tell me what the hell is going on.”

As the choppers’ engines wound down, I went over the basics. The details could come later. It took me a minute to identify the parties involved, pointing out men, bosses, vehicles…

“Two trucks slipped away,” I said abruptly. “I think they headed east, while we were in the middle of…”

“The shitstorm?” he finished finished for me. “Don’t worry, we know all about it. We’ve already got intercepts. Hell, this is a joint operation, between the Army and Nellis and—”

“SIR!”

We both turned our heads at the same time. Two men had pulled back the hidden dust-cover and were standing over a whole pit of perfectly-stacked brown paper bricks. The Chief raised one wild eyebrow.

“Cocaine?”

“We assumed as much, yes.”

“This about drugs, then?”

I shook my head. “Much more than that.”

The man paused, putting his hands on his hips. He let out a long, deep breath.

“So…” he squinted up at me. “That stuff Woodward was telling us…”

“All true, Chief. Every bit of it.”

He scanned around again, looking at everyone, everything. His eyes swept over the men on their bellies. His face contorted into a grimace.