Page 14 of Whisper

Ryan and George shared a long look. George nodded once.

“Let’s go through the operational plan.”

Williams outlined the operation, codenamed Jawbreaker, that would pave the way for the invasion of Afghanistan. Separate teams of joint Special Forces and CIA would deploy into different regions of Afghanistan, Kris’s team being the very first. Once in Afghanistan, they would link up with Shura Nazar field commanders and convince them to cooperate with the United States.

Everyone going was former military, former Special Forces or Delta Force or Navy SEALs. They had all seen combat and had all spent time in third-world countries. They all had experience with covert combat operations.

Except for Kris.

“There will be nothing there. No footprint. You’re first in. You will be creating that footprint.” Williams didn’t pull his punches. “You will be setting up joint intelligence collections with the Northern Alliance, or, the Shura Nazar.” Williams nodded to Kris. “Everything you get comes back home and goes straight to CENTCOM. We want everything. Status of forces, Taliban defensive positions, numbers of foreign fighters. Most importantly, any and all intelligence you receive about the location and whereabouts of Bin Laden.

“You will work with the Shura Nazar to strengthen their front lines. Manage air operations to obliterate Taliban and al-Qaeda forces that engage you. You will be defining the battlefield for everything that follows.

“Here’s what we’re seeing so far. Satellite imagery shows the Taliban are digging in for a long fight. They’re digging trenches and they’re hoping for an early winter. If the snows start falling, we could be looking at trench warfare, the likes of which we only saw in World War I. Hundreds of foreign fighters a day are flowing across the borders of Pakistan into Afghanistan. They want to fight you.

“Afghanistan is one of the world’s most difficult places to reach by air. Our bombers will be flying sixteen hours from the United States, one way, to drop their ordnance. We’ve got fighter jets based in the Gulf, but they’ll be flying up to six hours to get to you for air support. In the Gulf War, we flew almost four hundred sorties a day. Here, you’ll be lucky to get thirty, until we have the ability for air assets in-country.

“George, you’re taking command of the Panjshir Valley.”

Everyone nodded.

“You will link up with your Special Forces team in Tashkent, Uzbekistan, in one week. You’re first on the ground in Afghanistan twenty-four hours after that. Following your insertion, if you’re not all killed, we’re debating sending in another team to link with General Hajimullah outside Mazar-e-Sharif.

“We can’t move in the south yet. Taliban positions are too entrenched. That’s their stronghold. It’s a Pashtun-controlled hellhole down there.” Williams sighed and folded his hands on the conference table. He looked down, for a moment.

“Make no mistake, gentlemen. The Taliban, and al-Qaeda, will be ruthless. Anyone captured will most likely be tortured to death. The Taliban love to videotape their executions, so if you’re captured, your death will be recorded and broadcast. As part of this deployment, we’ve authorized the distribution of L-pills. If you are captured, and you believe you are about to be murdered, youwillhave the option to end your own life.”

Kris heard Williams speak, but everything seemed to float by him, words like bubbles warbling in the air. He couldn’t process it all, not yet.

“We here at CTC will do everything to support you. Anything you need, we will provide. The president will be receiving twice daily briefings on your activities. We’re all behind you, everyone. The entire nation. Good luck.”

George commandeered Williams’s seventh-floor conference room as team space. He called everyone together for the first meeting, dumping a box of donuts and a takeout carton of coffee in the center of the table.

Ryan interrupted him before the meeting began. “George, can I talk to you?” He jerked his head toward the corner.

Kris plucked at one of the laptops, reading through the intel cables sent in from Islamabad, Tashkent, Dushanbe, and elsewhere. Anything and everything the agency could gather on the Taliban and the Shura Nazar. He was coordinating with Tashkent station while they met with Shura Nazar representatives and tried to secure permission from General Khan to allow them into their stronghold in the Panjshir Valley.

He, and everyone else, could hear Ryan and George’s conversation.

“Are yousureCaldera is right for this team?” Ryan crossed his arms, glancing over his shoulder. Kris pretended not to notice.

“Clint personally picked him for the mission.” George sounded as enthusiastic about Kris as he would about going in for a root canal. “Clint says he’s good. He’s the best analyst on Afghanistan. He knows the political lay of the land, the culture. We need that to build this alliance. And he knows the languages.”

Ryan scoffed. “He looks like a hundred and twenty pounds, soaking wet. He won’t be able to handle the physical aspects of this mission.”

George shrugged.

“How is he going to be received in Afghanistan? We’re going toAfghanistan. The Taliban murders anyone they think might be gay. And we’re bringinghim?”

Kris felt everyone’s gaze slide to him. No one said a word. Everyone pretended they couldn’t hear Ryan and George.

“Look, we need the language skills. He speaks Farsi and Dari. The other Dari speakers, all three of them in the agency, are going operational with the next teams. We need them on the front lines.”

“But—”

“Look, Ryan, we’re building alliances. Laying the groundwork. We’re staging. We’re not fighting. Clint believes in him, says he is the guy we need for building this alliance. Everything else… Well, Caldera has to figure out how to hold his own over there. At least until we get the ball rolling. Then we can send him home if we need to.”

Ryan sighed, long and loud.