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