“Go round his ass up.”
“We… uh… well… we can’t seem to find him right now, Mitch.”
Mark realized his hands were now balled into fists and he had to make a conscious effort to unclench them. He started toward Steve, but what felt like an iron band gripped his shoulder.
Mitch’s hand.
“Let me get this straight,” Mitch said. “You sent these Rangers on a hit that turned out to be an ambush and now you’ve lost the fucker who fed you the bad intel? Holy shit.”
While Mark wanted to scream at Steve or beat him senseless, Mitch’s question stopped him. Something about the man’s cold, emotionless delivery made Mark want to shiver, and he wasn’t even the CIA officer’s target.
The chief of base wilted. “Mitch, I’m sorry. We—”
“Tell me what you do have,” Mitch said. “Now.”
“The HVT,” Steve said, almost babbling. “We have the HIG leader and some of his men in custody.”
“Where?” Mitch said.
“Here.”
Mark hadn’t known this, but it made sense. The HIG compound his Rangers had hit was only about fifteen minutes from J-Bad by helicopter. Some of the most critically wounded Rangers had been transported to FOB Fenty’s medical clinic for stabilization before undertaking the much longer flight to Bagram. Apparently the raid’s prisoners were at J-Bad awaiting transfer to Bagram’s detention facility.
“That’s the first thing you’ve done right,” Rapp said. “Get them ready for transport.”
“I’ll check the air manifest,” Steve said. “I’m sure there’s a flight to Bagram later today.”
“They’re not going by air.”
“What do you mean?” Steve said with a puzzled tone.
“I mean we’re moving the prisoners by ground.”
CHAPTER 21
CONTRARY to popular belief, Rapp did not kill everyone who irritated him.
As he was fond of telling Irene, he could and did practice restraint when the situation merited it. The issue was that he’d become accustomed to solving problems by eliminating people, and the more he had to deal with jackasses like Steve, the more attractive this method of problem-solving became.
This was not to say that Rapp had any intention of killing a fellow American, but he’d be lying if he said the idea of removing Steve from the equation didn’t have a certain appeal. Rapp operated in a world in which he was unshackled from the need to seek approval from his superiors once an operation was set in motion. This was because he reported solely to the director of the CIA and possessed neither the inclination nor desire to move into management. As such, Rapp was unincumbered by the second-guessing that plagued the many of his career-minded coworkers.
Rapp was a field man to his core.
He had zero utility at Langley, and he viewed fellow field operatives like the young Ranger commander as kindred spirits. While Rapp wasn’t one for recklessly endangering American lives, he believed there was a time to go all in.
Now was that time.
“You want to drive the prisoners to Bagram?” Steve said. “That will take almost five hours.”
“Just get them loaded, Steve,” Rapp said.
“What about you?” Steve said.
“I’m going for a little hike in the Spin Ghar mountains.”
Silence greeted Rapp’s reply.
Steve looked at the Ranger commander for help, but Mark didn’t seem inclined to speak.
With a sigh, Steve bit the bullet.
“I’m not doubting your abilities, Mitch,” Steve said, “but there is zero chance you will get into those mountains unseen. Zero. I just had a Delta Force Troop commander in here trying to figure out how to insert a couple of his long-range reconnaissance teams. He couldn’t make it work. That stretch of terrain is one of the most highly trafficked pieces of ground in the region. Goat herders, Taliban, HIG, Al Qaeda, and even the Pakistani army all use those trails. The SEALs, Green Berets, and Ranger Regimental Recon folks have tried putting reconnaissance elements into the mountain passes for years. No one has been able to clandestinely insert a team. No one.”
“Couldn’t agree more,” Rapp said, eyeing the map board. “That’s why I’m not gonna try.”
Steve shook his head. “I want to get this American back as much as anyone, but a recon in force won’t work either. Best case, Saxton’s captors smuggle him over the border into Pakistan at the first sign of American vehicles heading for the foothills. Assuming that he isn’t there already. Worst case, the jihadis decide the juice isn’t worth the squeeze and put a bullet in the Ranger’s head. It can’t be done.”
“Bullshit,” Mark said. “My guys went in there once. We can do it again. I just need intelligence and a couple of helicopters.”
The young Ranger officer looked ready to knock Steve out, and while the chief of base could probably use a good ass-whupping, Rapp didn’t have time to play referee. His meeting with Ashani was in nine hours. He needed take care of this missing-Ranger situation and then catch a fight to Kabul.
“Is Coleman in-country yet?” Rapp said to Steve as he wedged himself between the CIA officer and the angry Ranger.
“Right here, boss.”
Rapp turned toward to see Scott Coleman leaning against the B-hut’s doorframe. For reasons not entirely clear to Rapp, the SEAL was smiling.
“How long have you been standing there?” Rapp said.
