Читать книгу The Oracle's Message - Alex Archer - Страница 12

Spier and the rest of the men excused themselves after they’d had another round of drinks. Annja nursed her glass of wine as Hans stayed behind, as well. Part of her was happy about that, but part of her suspected something else might be going on. Just before Spier had left the table, he’d exchanged a knowing look with Hans.

Annja was comfortable with the decision she’d made to join the expedition, but she wanted to make sure that Hans didn’t have any misconceptions about the nature of their relationship.

They waited in comfortable silence until the pavilion had pretty much cleared out. One of the resort’s boats was taking a big group over to a neighboring island where they had a nightclub. Annja had no interest in going.

“Joachim is very pleased that you’ve decided to accompany us on this expedition,” Hans said.

Annja looked him over. He was smiling at her and seemed brimming with confidence. “How did you get that scar?” she asked.

He touched his face self-consciously. Annja grinned. “I didn’t mean to imply that it’s horrible or anything. I was just curious.”

Hans smiled. “Doesn’t the discussion of scars and how we got them usually take place after we’ve slept together? Isn’t that what people like us do in the afterglow of orgasm?”

“People like us?” Annja sputtered, surprised by the man’s blunt statement. “And what is that supposed to mean?”

“You can’t deny it, Annja. I knew it from the moment I looked at you. You’re a warrior.”

Annja raised an eyebrow. “So does that mean you’re one, too?”

“I was,” he said. “Once.”

Hans got a faraway look in his eyes and Annja frowned. She knew what it was like to have dark memories. Sometimes the demons that you’d killed stayed away for a while. But sometimes they came back.

“Military?” she guessed.

Hans nodded. “I was a paratrooper. In Afghanistan. Working with the coalition forces at the time. Such as they were.”

“I didn’t think Germany had much of an official presence over there.”

Hans sighed. “We had a few units. Some of whom disgraced themselves. Public opinion caused the chancellor to resign. Germany pulled out most of its units. But you know that doesn’t stop the shadow governments that work despite the best interests of the people they’re elected to supposedly protect.” He finished off the remainder of his drink and slapped the glass back down on the table. “An arrangement was reached with the United States. Germany would supply a small unit of commandos—specialists trained in mountain warfare—for long-range reconnaissance patrols. Our task, as it was set forth, was to locate high-value Taliban targets.”

“So you were special operations.”

Hans nodded. “Don’t hold it against me, all right?”

Annja smiled. “I won’t.”

Hans looked out at the frothy black sea. “We were dispatched to a high mountain pass in the Helmand province. Do you know it?”

“In the southwestern part of the country, isn’t it? But I thought it was mostly desert.”

“Helmand is the main source of opium in the country. It produces more than the entire country of Burma. Intelligence suggested that the Taliban was funneling fighters mixed in with opium shipments. But rather than venture south through the desert toward the Balochistan area of Pakistan, they instead chose to journey north toward the Helmand River.”

“You were ordered to intercept them?”

Hans nodded. “We set up our observation post atop one of the higher mountains in Nawzad. We were able to use small unmanned vehicles to keep track of all the entry points in the region.” He shook his head. “It was exhausting work, sitting in that mountain range. The sun scorched us mercilessly. We had to maintain strict secrecy the entire time. The locals were all friendly to the Taliban and would have given any of us away if they had known we were there.”

“How did you manage to stay concealed for so long?”

Hans grinned. “Well, that’s what we were trained to do. My unit was sent out to live on the mountains all over the world. We went in with just enough supplies—mostly ammunition, medical and communications gear. We took some rations, but otherwise we were to live off the environment. It was a very special group of men I had volunteered to serve with. Any one of us would gladly have died for the others.”

“What happened?”

Hans paused a moment before continuing. “On the third night we were there, we got a message that one of the drones had visual contact with a drug convoy approaching our area.

“It was night, so we had a tough time trying to pick them out among the rocks down near the river, but we also had night-vision equipment. Once we switched on, we could see them clearly. One or two pickup trucks, a whole host of mules laden with large boxes of opium packed tightly for transport. And they had close to one hundred fighters with them.”

Annja leaned forward. “How many of you?”

“Four.”

“Those aren’t good odds any way you cut it.”

Hans shrugged. “We called in close air support. We had laser painters—do you know what those are?”

“It shoots an invisible laser at a target that fighters and bombers can use to guide their ordnance, right?”

Hans looked at her a second before grinning. “You seem remarkably well-versed in military terminology, Annja.”

“You’re not the first soldier I’ve met, Hans.”

“I’ll bet.”

“So, anyway…”

Hans grinned. “We directed a squadron of planes down on them and they turned the entire river basin into scorched earth. When the dust and debris cleared, the only things left behind were the smoldering hunks of what had been the pickup trucks. Everything else had been utterly destroyed.”

Annja nodded. “So, mission successful. Good stuff.”

“Ordinarily, on a mission like that, we would have been immediately extracted and moved to a different area. That’s just to protect the unit, you understand.”

“Sure. Why leave you there when the locals would have known that there must have been a unit operating in the area.”

“Exactly.” Hans sighed. “It amazes me that it seems so logical to you, and yet to my own government it was not what they did.”

“They didn’t pull you out?”

“No. They left us there. The first strike had proven so successful, they wanted us to stay in place to make sure the Taliban didn’t try to come through the region again.”

“But—”

Hans held up his hand. “I know, I know. It defies all proper sense of logic and intelligence. But bureaucrats are not warriors for good reason. They’d be dead within minutes if they ever stepped onto a battlefield.”

“That must not have gone over well with the other members of your team.”

Hans frowned. “To be honest with you, Annja, it was the first time I’d ever considered the notion of disobeying a direct order. We talked it over, though, and in the end decided we had the benefit of being a small and highly mobile unit. We knew the region and felt comfortable with the idea that if we were discovered, we could exfiltrate to the extraction site and get pulled out by helicopter.”

Annja felt a strong breeze blow over and, despite its balminess, felt a shiver run through her body.

“The Taliban were, of course, furious that one of their convoys had been so utterly decimated. The cost to them in terms of monetary value—along with the cost in human life—must have been quite extraordinary.”

“They wanted your unit.”

Hans nodded. “They knew, like you said, that there had to be someone operating in the area. I found out later that they had put a bounty on our heads. The equivalent of fifty thousand dollars for our capture or death. To your local Afghani, that much money was like being promised the keys to a kingdom.”

“They turned those mountains into a war zone.”

Hans nodded and kept talking. “The first indication we had that our lives were about to get really terrible was when our sentries signaled us that we had the enemy approaching. But they didn’t just come at us from one direction. We could have easily handled that.” He frowned. “They swarmed all over that mountain, creeping up through unseen crevasses we didn’t even know about. They stalked down old goat trails. Over boulders. And when they attacked, it felt like hell itself had been unleashed upon us. Bullets flew everywhere, ricocheting off rocks, splintering whatever stubby trees happened to be in the area. The sound of gunfire never wavered. We scrambled and fought back as much as we could, but they were relentless.”

Annja’s heart beat hard against her chest. “How did you ever get out of there?”

“Somehow we made our way back to our extraction site. But when the first helicopter came in to pick us up, the Taliban launched a Stinger missile—you know, the ones your CIA gave to the mujahideen to fight the Soviets way back when? Anyway, the helicopter exploded, killing everyone on board before we could even get close to it.”

“My God…”

“We asked for another rescue mission. But we were denied, told it was too hot a landing zone for them to try again. We were directed to an alternate landing zone for rescue.”

“Did you go there?”

“Not before one of our team was killed by a grenade. He threw himself on it to protect the rest of us. We would have all been killed otherwise.”

Annja bit her lip. “Brave man.”

Hans nodded. “He was indeed.” He glanced away. “The secondary LZ was two miles to the east. It may as well have been a thousand. They attacked us every step of the way. Another member of my team took a bullet to his shoulder and we had to tend to his wounds. While we did, another shot took him right between his eyes. His head exploded all over me and my friend, Tomas.”

“Jesus,” Annja said.

“I hope he was with him,” Hans said. “But it certainly felt as though God had deserted us on that day. The Taliban kept up the attacks as we traversed the boulders and ravines, making our way to the secondary site.”

Annja shook her head. “No wonder you’ve got scars.”

Hans ran a hand over the scar on his face. “If only they were all as superficial as this one.” He paused and then looked at Annja. “It took us the better part of a day to reach the secondary landing zone. By that time, night had fallen, so we felt good about our chances of a pickup. After all, darkness would help the rescue chopper avoid detection to some extent.”

“Did they come for you?”

“They didn’t want to. But we screamed at them on the radio until they relented. We were down to just the two of us by then. Tomas and I pledged that neither of us would let ourselves be captured. We’d heard enough of what to expect from Taliban torturers if they should have ever caught up with us. We’d each save a bullet for taking our own lives if it came to that.

“For a while, everything went quiet as we lay nestled between two boulders. The stars came out on that cold night, blinking as they did against the backdrop of night. It was eerily quiet and almost beautiful. Tomas and I lay back-to-back ready to fight and die if need be.

“But when we heard the chop of rotor blades, the entire mountainside opened up again. It was as if they knew exactly where Tomas and I were hiding because every bullet and mortar shell seemed to be locked onto our very position. Somehow they never managed to land a direct strike, though, and we stayed safe, right up until it was time to leave and run for the chopper.”

Annja was leaning forward, closer to Hans now. Hans seemed to be breathing faster, almost as if he was reliving the event.

“We saw the chopper touch down and we ran out from the boulders. We’d ditched all our gear so we could move faster. I ran like I’d never run before. Bullets whizzed past us. Dirt kicked up in our faces. Explosions everywhere. I had to run zigzag to keep from being hit. We were so close to getting out and then I was falling into the back of the chopper.

“I turned and saw Tomas on the ramp coming in. He smiled at me. I grinned back. We’d made it. And then a single bullet burst through his chest. He died right there on the back ramp of the chopper as we lifted away. He fell to his knees and died, that smile still on his face.”

Hans was silent.

Annja took a deep breath. “I’m so sorry,” she whispered.

Hans cleared his throat and clenched his jaw. “The scar came from a bullet that caught me across my face, but never entered the side of my head. Just a flesh wound, in other words.”

“You were incredibly lucky.”

Hans eyed her. “Was I? I sometimes wonder if perhaps my friends who died were the lucky ones. We never should have been left out there. We never should have been abandoned like that. Three good men died because of political idiocy.”

There wasn’t much Annja could say to that.

Hans stood. “You’ll have to forgive me, Annja, but I think I’m going to get some sleep now. I’ll see you down at the dock tomorrow morning. Joachim likes to get started early.”

And then he turned and left the pavilion.

Annja watched him go and frowned. This day hadn’t ended how she’d thought it would. That was for sure.