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That made me smile. Hostile force rules of engagement meant I could kill whomever I wanted. I said, “Hostile force? Seriously? This man is worth upsetting our relationships inside another country?”

George Wolffe said, “According to Kerry, he did more for the military mission than most of the U.S. folks in uniform. We’re getting him to the United States. That’s from the president himself.”

My smile grew larger. I said, “Perfect. Give me the lock-on, and I’ll get him out.”

Wolffe said, “I’m working it now, but Pike, this still needs to be clandestine. We can’t compromise your company or the Taskforce.”

I laughed and said, “I can’t promise that, sir, and you know it. I’ll do what I can, but when you grab the tiger by the tail, you still get the tiger.”

“The Oversight Council doesn’t want the tiger. They want a seamless extraction.”

I said, “And Kerry? What’s he want?”

“He wants his man out. Period.”

And I realized why I liked Kerry Bostwick. He cared more about the men than whatever bullshit was going on in Washington, DC.

I said, “Then fuck the Oversight Council. I’ll get his man home, but it may be behind a wrecking ball.”

Chapter5

Sitting in the fetid alley, water dripping from the roof above, his niece next to him, Jahn wondered about his next move. He was free from Afghanistan, as far as that went, but he was a long way from any help, and he was sure they were being hunted. He would be Target Number One on the Taliban hit list, and the exit from the Dushanbe airport hadn’t been very smooth.

As soon as their helicopter had set down, Ahmad saw a bunch of people running toward it across the tarmac. With the rotors still turning, the whine of the Mi-17 loud in the cabin, the pilot looked to the rear and said, “This is it. I’m surprised they let us land. We are done.”

Wearing a headset, Ahmad said, “Are you talking to the tower?”

The pilot pointed at the men jogging across the field and said, “Yes, but they are not happy.”

Ahmad looked at Jahn and shouted, “It’s not good. They’re coming for us.”

For the first time, Jahn pulled a pistol from his waist. He moved the small girl behind him and said, “We have to fight, we fight.”

The pilot looked like he was going to throw up. Ahmad said, “Go. Get out. The price of your flight is this helicopter. They can have it. You’re good. Get out.”

He nodded, ripped off his helmet, and took off running across the tarmac. Ahmad saw him tackled at the edge of the fence,turned around to Jahn, and said, “Follow my lead. We have more than they know. We’ll get out.”

Jahn said, “That’s not good enough. These men can be as bad as the Taliban. They don’t care about us. They care about whoever is controlling the strings, and it’s not us.”

“The Americans are controlling the strings. That’s who we trust.”

Jahn said, “I’ve trusted them before. They won’t come. This is in the Russian sphere of influence.”

Even as he said it, he was thinking about an American he could call. Someone who could possibly save him and his niece.

Ahmad said, “That’s true, and that’s why we’ll be okay. I have a Russian who wants what’s in this helicopter.”

He pulled up his phone and started talking, keeping his eyes on the men advancing. By the time he was done, the Tajiks had surrounded the helicopter.

Jahn saw the men and raised his hands. In short order, they were searched and evacuated, with Ahmad protesting the entire way. They were taken to a hangar and allowed to sit alone, with a single guard. Jahn wondered what would happen next. What he needed to do was get out of the airport. Get into the city, with his niece.

Eventually, a man entered the room. A Caucasian with a scar that leaked into his left eye. He was someone who had seen war, and not from a television screen. He said, “Who is the leader here?” He spoke English, but his accent was Russian. He was not from Tajikistan. Ahmad raised his hand. The man said, “You have something my boss wants, correct?”

Ahmad smiled, looked at Jahn, and said, “Yes, yes I do.”

The man said, “Where is it?”

“In the helicopter we flew in on.”