CHAPTER 4
After landing at Bagram Airfield at zero-dark-thirty the platoon had gone directly into an emergency briefing on base, followed by the drive to where they were now, at the German Embassy in Kabul.
Good thing Thom had drugged himself with a sleeping pill for the flight so he arrived rested, because even though it could seem at times that command moved at a sloth’s pace on missions, this time it appeared as if they were ready to rock and roll.
Time was of the essence if they were going to find this woman alive.
While the dozen SEALs had been in transit, representatives from the usual three-letter US governmental organizations, along with the local Afghan officials and the German authorities, had been busy combining efforts and information.
Between drone and satellite surveillance, chatter on the wires and rumors among the locals, they’d been able to determine a probable location for the group holding the American woman. The same group who had killed the German worker and beheaded the local Afghan guard, which was probably the reason there was far more sharing of resources between the three countries’ authorities than usual.
Of course, without hard intel nothing was a definite. More, what was an accurate location today could be useless tomorrow if the group chose to move to another hideout.
It was a delicate dance between taking the time to prepare properly for the highest chance of success, while also moving fast enough to get to her before she was moved or worse, killed.
Staring down at the plans laid out on the conference table, drawings that showed the layout of the compound where they suspected the terrorists to be, Thom shook his head. “I don’t like how no one’s demanded a ransom. It could mean she’s already dead.”
Next to him, Brody shot Thom a sideways glance. “I don’t like how we haven’t discussed what we’d planned to discuss before we got recalled. You okay? You got your head in the game?”
“Of course, I do.” Thom frowned at Brody.
Brody lifted a brow. “You sure?”
Thom glanced around. They were on a break so the room that had been packed with SEALs for the past hour was nearly empty now as most of the platoon had gone to hit the head or grab sustenance. Even so, Thom kept his voice low as he said, “Yeah, I’m sure.”
He’d managed to concentrate on the mission and keep his mind off the ring he’d left locked away with his stuff back on base in Virginia until Brody had brought it up again.
He leveled a glare at his skeptical friend. “I know the plan backward and forward. I could probably draw the layout of the location to scale from memory if I had to.”
Brody nodded. “Just checking.”
Scowling, Thom was sorry he’d ever showed Brody that ring. “Well, no need. Just because I bought the damn thing doesn’t mean I have to decide right away. Hell, I can wait another year if I want.”
Dipping his head, Brody said, “Yup. You sure can.”
“Or I can go home and ask her right away.” Thom lifted his shoulders in a shrug.
“Mm, hm. You could.” Brody tipped his head again.
For some reason Brody’s easy agreement with everything Thom said was pissing him off. Thom huffed out a breath. “The point is I don’t have to think about it at all and definitely not right now while prepping for a raid.”
“Yup, I can see you’re not thinking about it. Not one bit.” Brody’s lips twitched.
In questioning him about being distracted, all Brody had done was raise the issue and cause Thom to become distracted.
He drew his brows low, hating that his supposed friend had planted a seed of doubt in his brain. “Fuck you, Brody.”
At that, Brody broke into a wide smile. “Love you too, bro. Hey, where’d they say that cafeteria was?” Brody asked, changing subjects like they weren’t in the middle of a serious discussion.
Thom had just been about to further lay into Brody for bringing up the subject of the engagement in the first place, but he had to admit, he could eat.
If command decided it was time to move out, decent food might not come again for many hours. “First floor. But I saw a food place across the street when we came in. Maybe we can check that out too.”
“Sounds good to me.” Brody took a single step to come around to Thom’s side of the table, which was closer to the door, when a blast rocked the embassy.
Knocked off balance, Thom braced his palms on the table.
The building shook but this was no earthquake. He’d been close to enough explosions during his career that he recognized the sound and the feel of one.
Brody’s eyes widened as he too grabbed for the table. “What the fuck?”
Thom strode toward the door, Brody in his wake.
Across the hall, more of the platoon stacked up on either side of the windows facing the front of the building. From that vantage point—pressed up against the wall—they’d be able to see out into the street while having some cover.
“What was it?” Thom asked the group in general.
“Looks like a vehicle-born IED,” Rocky Mangiano answered without turning.
“A big one. A tanker truck, judging by the wreckage. What’s left of it.” Craig Dawson, formerly the new guy and more recently the kid, shook his head and glanced at Thom over his shoulder. “It’s bad.”
Inching closer, Brody glanced out the window. “Damn.”
To plan an attack in the city’s most highly protected area was a ballsy move on the part of the bomber and he’d succeeded, proving that, obviously, the Afghan Security Forces security wasn’t secure enough.
Another blast sounded, not as loud. It was smaller or far enough away that it didn’t shake the building, but it was a blast nonetheless.
“Shit. Another one.” Thom edged toward the window to see for himself.
“It’s on the other side of the city.” Dawson tipped his chin toward a plume of smoke, barely visible, rising into the air.
The US embassy was only about half a mile away from where they stood in the German embassy, but in the opposite direction from the last explosion.
They should stay completely clear of the windows, but Thom dared to lean in and got a good look at the carnage below.
There were a lot of casualties. Some not moving. Others, bloodied and obviously hurt, attempted to walk or crawl to get away from the area.
They’d been warned to expect attacks on Western cities during the Muslim holy month. But this was Kabul. Muslims attacking Muslims during their holiest time of the year was the kind of insanity that pointed to the Islamic State. Although the Taliban was always a possibility.
There were ninety-eight recognized terrorist organizations worldwide. Twenty of them known to be in Afghanistan. Until someone took responsibility, it was all an educated guess and at this point it didn’t really matter.
Who was responsible was something to be considered after they’d dealt with trying to save as many lives as possible.
It was hard to get a clear view of the area but Thom visually searched for more threats. It wouldn’t be out of the ordinary for the bomb to be only part one of the attack.
Two blasts indicated this was a coordinated effort, not the actions of a lone wolf. There could be more terrorists out there, armed and ready to attack. Snipers lying in wait to pick off the first responders one by one.
Normally, he’d pay close attention to the rooftops and upper level windows of any surrounding buildings but the explosives had done a hell of a lot of damage to all the structures nearby. And it was nearly impossible to see the buildings still standing farther away through the smoke and dust in the air.
The entire area was in ruins with vehicles mangled and buildings crumbling. Just down the block, at what must have been ground zero for the explosion, was a crater at least a dozen feet deep.
Then there was the human toll. This was the Afghan capital’s diplomatic district on a weekday during rush hour. Banks, embassies, government buildings, markets—and all the people who’d be among them.
They needed to get down there and do what they could to help until emergency vehicles arrived. Even from this distance he could see the casualties were horrendous.
His unit might be trained to kill but they were also well trained in first aid in the field. In situations like this, a simple tourniquet could mean the difference between life and death for the victims.
He’d just had the thought when Grant topped the staircase. “Get downstairs and outside. Triage the wounded. Help whoever can be saved.”
“And if we encounter a threat?” James Mack McIntyre asked.
It was a good question. Thom had been wondering about the rules of engagement himself. They hadn’t been briefed for how to respond to an attack while inside a foreign embassy located in one of the busiest and supposedly safest neighborhoods in the capital.
Grant’s nostrils flared as he said, “Do what’s necessary.”
As the sound of booted feet thundered down the stairs Thom couldn’t help but think that had the explosion come a couple of hours earlier, as they were arriving, it could be him and his platoon lying in the street bleeding out. And if it had come one minute later as he and Brody crossed the street to get food, it could have been him down there in bloody pieces.
It was a sobering thought, one that had his heart pounding until he pushed through the door and out into the sunlight clouded by dust and smoke.
All the what ifs that had been running through his brain fled. He had the reality of the bomb’s aftermath to deal with.
After crossing the courtyard and running through the gate of the high walls, which had done much to protect the embassy from the blast, he saw the full extent of the horror close up.
As the sound of police sirens in the distance grew louder, his boots crunched on shards of glass. He skirted the worst of the debris in the rubble-clogged street.
At the sight of the first bloodied victim, training and adrenaline took over and he went to work to save who he could. Hopefully, there was no one out there lying in wait, set on preventing him from doing that.