The Last Man

Chapter 39
JALALABAD, AFGHANISTAN

THEY weren't going to take any undue chances this time with any green-on-blue attacks. That was the term that the military used to describe Afghan military or police who murdered coalition personnel. As the drawdown and eventual pullout neared, the problem was getting worse, and they all agreed that the best way to avoid it was to move on the house with overwhelming force. The Predator drone that had been tracking the movements of Commander Zahir was used to provide real-time imagery of the location, and more important, they were able to go back and see how Zahir and his people deployed to the house nearly two hours ago. As far as the Joint Special Operation Command planners could tell, there were no surprises waiting for them.

The intel supplied by the drone made it possible for the planners to expedite the mission. They coordinated with the Quick Reaction Force from the base in Jalalabad. A platoon from the Seventy-fifth Ranger Regiment, First Battalion, mounted up in eight MRAPs and rolled out the main gate as the first two assets from Bagram lifted into the air. Two of the big mine-resistant vehicles were outfitted with Mk 19 automatic grenade launchers, two more vehicles had .50 caliber guns on the turret, and the remaining four all had remote-controlled 7.62mm miniguns.

It helped that the folks at JSOC had been running operations on a daily basis for more than a decade, many of them rapid deployments. There was a certain rhythm. The shooters and aircrews slept during the midmorning and into the afternoon while the ground crews made sure the birds were prepped for the evening's missions. And there was always another mission in the works. The planners in the Joint Fusion Center tasked and retasked ops, shuffling the deck based on the input of the DOD and agencies like the CIA. Rickman was the top priority in-country, so other ops got kicked and the shooters and aircrews were roused early from their slumbers.

The two Apache attack helicopters arrived on station over the target house, providing more live tactical imaging. Five thousand feet above the Apaches, the command and control bird moved into position, now receiving live imaging from both the Apaches. In the back of the specially equipped Black Hawk, three men from JSOC monitored a bank of consoles. After the blocking force rolled into position at each end of the long street, the green light was given to the assault force.

Two Black Hawks came in fast, nose on tail, and flared up fifty feet above the street. They had considered landing, but the air boss decided that it was a little too tight, so the big black ropes were kicked out, two on each side of each chopper. The men began to slither down the ropes, ten from each chopper, moving off with haste to their prearranged positions. It took less than thirty seconds, and then the aircrews pulled the pins and dropped the thick ropes to the ground. If all went well, they would be collected later. As the first two Black Hawks climbed into the late-morning air, a third Black Hawk began circling counterclockwise overhead at fifteen hundred feet off the ground. Two Delta Force snipers were strapped in, hanging out the portside door, providing overwatch for the operation. Each man carried an M110 7.62x51mm sniper rifle with a twenty-round magazine. In truth, the Apaches were mainly a show of force. In a neighborhood like this, the Apaches' M230 chain gun, 70mm rockets, and Hellfire missiles would likely bring about an unacceptable level of collateral damage. If anything popped up, the snipers flying overwatch would be called on first to deal with the threat.

Two Little Birds were the last part of the air element. They landed without hazard on the street in front of the house. A German shepherd and his handler jumped out of the first bird along with two bomb techs lugging their gear. Out of the second Little Bird came Coleman, Hayek, and Rapp. Rapp and Coleman were suited up in full combat gear, having learned a very hard lesson only a few days earlier. While Coleman wore a boonie hat, Rapp's head was covered with an integrated ballistic helmet at the insistence of Dr. Nathan.

They hadn't bothered to inform Kennedy, as she was tied up in a high-level meeting. Rapp didn't want to raise anyone's hopes until they were sure Zahir wasn't jerking their chains. A quick comparison of the photos Zahir had sent compared to the video posted on the Internet looked legitimate. The trick had been getting Major Nathan to agree to Rapp's release. The major ran Rapp through a series of tests, most of them involving balance. To the doctor's surprise, his patient fared very well on the tests. Nathan still thought it was too early for Rapp to be up and moving around, let alone flying off on a mission that might involve more concussive blasts. The doctor never really agreed to release Rapp, but he was forced to reluctantly admit that he had no authority to keep Rapp against his will. He did add, however, that if Rapp left and came back wounded he would do his best to make sure he ignored his medical needs.

The metal gate was open and Zahir was waiting for them in the driveway. Rapp and Coleman paid him no attention and instead approached the commander for the assault team. "Chief," Coleman said, "what's the status?"

"Perimeter is secure and the handler just sent in his dog." The senior chief looked at the local cops. "They look pretty nervous."

"Yeah, well, if twenty-one of our boys had just been greased two days ago we'd be pretty nervous, too."

"Good point."

"The dog have a camera?"

"Yep . . . handler's looking at that, as well as the brains back at JSOC. When the big brains give us the go-ahead the bomb guys are going to send in their robot."

Rapp asked, "How long is that going to take?"

"Twenty to thirty minutes."

Rapp frowned. "I don't want to wait that long." He looked over at Zahir. "I've got a better idea."

After the dog came back out they asked the handler if he had seen anything unusual. Other than the two dead bodies in the basement, everything looked pretty normal. While the bomb techs unpacked their equipment, Rapp told Hayek to stay put and approached Zahir with Coleman. "Commander, you and your men didn't happen to find any booby traps while you were in there?"

Zahir was very unhappy that the Americans were playing this game with him. He shook his head and refused to speak.

"Good," Rapp said, "so you're willing to go back in with us and show us what you've found."

Zahir nodded, waved for them to follow, and then marched past his men and into the house.

"You sure about this?" Coleman asked.

Rapp figured he could spend the rest of his life worrying that there was a bomb around every corner or he could get back on this horse. "You read the report on Zahir. Suicide isn't his deal. Too narcissistic. If he's willing to walk in there, we're safe."

"I hope you're right." Coleman looked over his shoulder, "Chief, we're going in. When JSOC starts freaking out, tell them Mr. Cox made the call." Having served in the military, Coleman didn't want the guy getting reamed for something that wasn't his fault. As he started walking, he called back, "You can still send in the robot if you want."

Zahir led them through the first floor.

"Anything worth seeing up here?" Rapp asked as they reached the stairwell.

"I'm sure you're going to want to take this house apart piece by piece, but I didn't see much." Pointing down the staircase, Zahir said, "The important stuff is down there."

Rapp had Zahir go first and followed him down the steps with his M-4 rifle pointed at Zahir's back. Halfway down the stairs the stench hit them. Zahir pulled out a handkerchief and covered his mouth. At the bottom of the stairs was a table with a computer monitor, keyboard, and mouse. Zahir led them through the open door and the stench became almost unbearable. Rapp and Coleman were both covering their noses with gloved hands as they looked around the rectangular room.

The first thing Rapp noticed were the two bodies on the floor. They looked like the men in the video. The sheets were covering the walls, and attached to one of the floor joists was a metal hook with a length of knotted rope.

"This one here," Zahir pointed at the larger of the two men, "is Shahrukh Ahmad Wazir. He's Taliban."

"You're sure?" Rapp asked.

"Yes."

"And the other one?"

"I have no idea, but we will find out. Very likely he is Taliban as well."

"God, it stinks down here," Rapp said. "What is that smell? These guys don't look like they've been dead long enough to smell like this."

Zahir pointed at a puddle between the two bodies and a little closer to where they were standing. It was a rusty brown mixture. "That is blood and I think feces and I'm sure urine as well." Zahir had seen many men shit themselves when interrogated, but he didn't think now was a good time to offer this knowledge.

"What was the big one's name, again?" Coleman asked. He had his phone out and was about to send the name back to the Intel Fusion Center. Zahir spelled it for him and Coleman sent the message. If Zahir knew who he was, it was likely the name would pop up in one of their databases.

Rapp stepped around the putrid liquid to get a better look at the two men. They both had bruised knuckles and their hands were swollen. Just beyond the bodies were two rubber hoses, more evidence that this was the place where Rickman had been interrogated. He counted no fewer than four bullet holes in each man. The image of the dead bodyguards lined up in the safe house came back to him. This murder scene couldn't have been more different. "Look at this," Rapp said to Coleman. "Remember Rick's four guys, each one with a single bullet hole."

"Yeah," Coleman said, "this was done by someone who was pissed off." He turned around and looked at the other two walls. As far as he could tell they didn't have any pockmarks from bullets. This wasn't a gunfight, it was an execution.

Rapp noticed the video camera and tripod knocked over on the floor. They needed Hayek down here. Rapp reached up and grabbed the lip mike from the side of his helmet. He swung it down and hit the two-way button on his Motorola radio. "Sid, this is Harry, over."

"I'm here."

"Did you bring any masks? It smells pretty bad down here."

"Yeah, I have some."

"Good, grab your gear and come on in. I'll meet you on the first floor."

"Harry," the voice crackled over the radio, "our boss is out of that meeting and she's not very happy with you."

Rapp's memory was still a little spotty but he got the feeling that this wasn't the first time she'd been mad at him. "Tell her I'm ninety-nine percent sure we found the place where Rick was interrogated. That should calm her down a bit. I'll meet you by the front door." Rapp flipped the lip mike back up and started for the stairs.

"This is pretty f*cking ballsy," Coleman said.

"What's that?"

"We're a block and a half from the safe house. We're looking all over the planet for him and he was here, just a couple hundred yards away. I hate to admit it, but it's a pretty f*cking smart move. Who would have ever thought of looking this close?"

Coleman's words triggered something familiar in Rapp's mind. His brain was still having some issues, like it knew what it was searching for but it was stuck in that pinwheel mode that a computer went into when it couldn't get out of program.

Coleman could see he'd triggered something. "What are you thinking about?"

"I don't know. I think something you said is important, but the old noggin still isn't working quite right."

"It'll come."

Rapp stepped into the other room and Zahir followed him. "Mr. Harry, are you satisfied?"

Rapp stopped on the first step and looked back at the corrupt police officer. He sighed and reluctantly said, "Yes, Abdul, you've done a good job." Rapp climbed two more steps and then thought of something. "Abdul, how did you discover these bodies?"

Zahir wanted to tell him that it was through his contacts, but he was afraid the American would discover the truth. The man was no longer mad at him, so he said, "We received an anonymous call at the police station."

"Anonymous?"

"Yes."

That sounded funny to Rapp. They were offering thousands of dollars in cash to anyone who could help them find Rickman. You would think someone would want to collect that money. Rapp shook his head and started up the stairs again with Ashan in tow.

"Mr. Harry, I would just like to say that I am sorry we started off on the wrong foot."

"Me too, Abdul, but maybe we can start over." Rapp stopped in the front entryway, sidestepping the robot.

"I would like that."

Rapp thought of something else. "Good. Now you need to find Mr. Hubbard. Alive preferably."

Zahir hemmed and hawed and then asked, "Is there a reward?"

Rapp should have expected it. Guys like Zahir never changed. "Fifty grand . . . maybe more, depending on how hard you have to work."

Zahir smiled. This was a huge relief. He much preferred doing business this way. His joy was short-lived, however.

Rapp pointed the muzzle of his rifle at Zahir's chest and said, "But if I find out you're f*cking me, or that you had a hand in any of this, you're dead."