Authors: Jack - Seals 01 Terral
Aburrani whispered to the Americans. "He is performing nanawatey."
The warlord spoke unceasingly for almost a quarter of an hour before stopping. He remained in the subservient position as Aburrani spoke to him, indicating that all his past transgressions were forgiven. When the government envoy finished his speech, Khamami stood up. He motioned to the pillows arranged in front of the one he used.
"He is inviting us to take seats," Aburrani said to his companions. He continued as they settled on the pillows, with Jim Cruiser choosing one in the rear. "The warlord has expressed his sorrow for his past conduct and asks for forgiveness. He also says he is more than willing to atone for any indignity or discomfort he might have caused us."
Brannigan's teeth were clenched in anger. "Can he speak English?"
"Alas, no," Aburrani said. "I must act as translator."
"It's probably better that way," Latrelle said, glad that any outburst from Brannigan would not be understood by the warlord. Cruiser, thinking the same thing, showed a wide grin.
"At any rate:' Aburrani continued, "I will now introduce you." He spoke in Pashto again, pointing to Brannigan, Cruiser and Latrelle. Khamami said something, then Aburrani looked at Brannigan. "He is now aware of who you are and knows you were the leader who opposed him in battle. He also stated that now he knows for sure you had no more than fourteen men. But he wishes to remind you that it was the airplanes that defeated his army. The warlord is most positive he would have destroyed your command otherwise."
Brannigan knew the man was right, but he wasn't going to give him any satisfaction. "Tell him my second in command and I were just about to demand that he surrender when the planes showed up."
Khamami's eyes opened wide when the statement was translated, then he laughed aloud.
"I'm glad the son of a bitch is amused:' Brannigan said sourly.
"He merely stated that audacity is in the war chest of every great commander," Aburrani said.
Brannigan shrugged. "Well, he's right about that."
"Now I must have a long conversation with the warlord," Aburrani said. "Please excuse me, my friends." He looked at Khamami, the expression on his face serious as he began speaking in Pashto. "Listen to me, Khamami. You are at the mercy of the government in Kabul now. You have lost your army, and any misbehavior on your part will bring American warplanes that will bomb this fortress into rubble and kill all your people. Understand?"
"I understand," Khamami said. "And I hope you understand why I did not choose to fight to the death as I normally would have."
"Of course," Aburrani said. "You realize that if you submit to Kabul's authority, you will be under government, thus American, protection. And your activities in the opium trade will be able to continue unabated without us having to find a replacement for you."
"If I cannot have glory in war, then I will console myself by becoming a wealthy man."
"That is most wise of you," Aburrani said. "By the way, the helicopter pilot Mohammed Sheriwal has surrendered to the Americans. He used his Russian name, saying nothing about converting to Islam. The fellow has asked them to help him get home to Russia."
"He wants to go to Switzerland to get his money out of the bank," Khamami said. "He will leave behind his women and never come back."
"It doesn't matter," Aburrani said. "You must let him go. If he is forced to stay, he will betray you, me and many others who make money from the poppies."
"Very well."
"There is an American rifle platoon here along with Brannigan's men," Aburrani explained. "They will be watching you and your surviving mujahideen most carefully. The infidels know you cannot defeat them in battle, and any bad conduct by you or your people will be severely punished."
"I am serious about nanawatey," Khamami said. "So let us get back to business. Will there be any problem smuggling out the next opium crop?"
"None at all," Aburrani said. "Now that everything is settled, I will inform my companions that you have formally surrendered and agreed to serve the causes of the new Afghan government." The envoy turned to Brannigan, Cruiser and Latrelle.
Both Khamami and Kharani sat in silence as their friend spoke in the strange language of the infidels.
.
1330 H0URS LOCAL
THE 101
ST
Airborne troopers began setting up a tent camp for the stay at the fortress. When the SEALS offered to help, their commander, an African-American lieutenant by the name of Lawton, told the Navy men they had been through enough. The air assault troopers were more than happy to do the work.
As the camp was erected, Colonel Latrelle had some more important information for Lieutenant Brannigan. And the SEAL skipper was not pleased by most of it.
"There'll be a UN aid team coming in here tomorrow," Latrelle explained. "They're coming for the purpose of giving help and instruction to the people living in the fortress and the villages around it."
"What the hell is that all about?" Brannigan asked.
"The usual stuff," Latrelle said. "There'll be two medical clinics. One for men and the other for women and children so as not to offend any Islamic sensitivities. The UN people will also present a special program for the women about female things, and other lessons that will pertain to everybody. They use posters and leaflets as well as videotapes to explain nutrition, hygiene and sanitation in their presentations. It's actually quite beneficial to the indigenous personnel."
"Does this have anything to do with me and my men?"
"You are to remain here with the rifle platoon for security reasons," Latrelle said. "When SOCOM deems it is time to end your mission, you will return to Kabul. The UN aircraft will be provided to you for the flight."
"Godamn it!" Brannigan cursed. "We came over to this fucking place to pick up a defector on a quick in-and-out operation. So far we've been on this mission almost a month, fought several major battles, lost two damn good men, and now we're supposed to stand around a fucking dilapidated fort with our thumbs up our asses."
"Hey, Lieutenant," Latrelle said testily. "I'm only the messenger. SOCOM wanted you to hang around here because they feel the Pashtuns have a great deal of respect for you." He shrugged. "Actually, they're scared of you."
"They have good reason to be," Brannigan snapped.
.
2 SEPTEMBER
0945 HOUR LOCAL
ALL the SEALs felt stabs of homesickness when the white United Nations C-130 touched down and taxied across the hard-packed terrain toward the tent camp. They knew this was the aircraft that would carry them out on the first leg of the long trip home. The sight of the big plane made them anxious to get aboard and haul ass away from Afghanistan as fast as possible.
The rear door slowly opened under the hydraulic drive, then a loading ramp was pushed out by the crew. The first thing to appear was a Mitsubishi truck that was driven off the plane. Another followed, then a couple of dozen people pulling roll-out luggage walked down the ramp to the ground. The SEALs' collective interest rose when they noticed that among the disembarking passengers were a number of females. A man led the group, and he paused to look around as if searching for someone to greet him. Brannigan and the leader of the rifle platoon, Lieutenant Lawton, picked him out to be the head man. They walked up and introduced themselves.
"How do you do?" he said. "I am Dr. Bouchier. I have some tents and other accommodations to set up. There is a crew of laborers still aboard the aircraft to do the work. Where do you recommend that we establish ourselves?"
Brannigan pointed to the south side of the warlord's fortress. "The wind is cut off there. You'll be more comfortable."
Lieutenant Lawton made an offer. "I have a platoon of men here if you need any help."
"No, thank you," Dr. Bouchier said. "We have plenty of hands to tend to the task. The sight of soldiers putting up our camp gives a bad impression:'
"All right, Doctor," Lieutenant Lawton said. "I don't suppose good impressions mean much if it turns out you need any protection, so we'll be close by."
The doctor ignored the remark that bordered on sarcasm. "Our laborers will go back with the plane tomorrow, but will return to repack us when it's time to leave." Then he added, "By the way, I am Belgian not French."
I almost give a shit, Brannigan thought, but he said. "Really?"
"Yes," Bouchier said. "Really." He turned and yelled out some orders in French. The effort produced a dozen Afghan laborers who cheerfully trotted down the ramps over to the trucks. An impatient gesture from the doctor set the vehicles off in the right direction.
Chad Murchison stood with his CAR-15 over his shoulder, with Senior Chief Dawkins and Connie Concord, watching the activity. He had started to turn to go back to the platoon tents when a female voice caught his attention.
"Chad! Chad Murchison!"
He turned to see who had hailed him. A young woman wearing white coveralls walked rapidly toward him, and the sight caused a deep feeling of sweet sadness to sweep over the young SEAL. It was Penny Brubaker, the girl who had dumped him for a varsity jock back in their college days. He managed an awkward grin, not really happy to see her.
"Hello, Penny."
She embraced him tightly around the neck and kissed his cheek. "Chad! Oh m'God! I never expected to see you. I mean here. Y' know, in Afghanistan." She laughed nervously. "Oh m'God! I am so flustered."
"I'm a bit surprised to see you too," Chad said.
"Oh m'God! I hardly recognized you," she said. "I had to stare a minute to make sure it was you."
He noted that she wore a name tag on her coveralls with her last name as BRUBAKER instead of ARMBREWSTER. The big man on campus she'd gotten engaged to was Cliff Armbrewster. She suddenly realized what he was looking at. "Oh! Cliff and I never married. He was such a shallow buffoon." She gave Chad a bold gaze. "You look so rugged! And you've filled out! But then you're a SEAL, aren't you? I heard about it from Pauline Dillingham. She said you had gone into the Navy and became a SEAL. How exciting. I thought that was so brave and mature of you."
Suddenly his feelings of awkwardness disappeared and he felt manly and macho. "Yeah. It was tough sledding, but I made it."
She saw her companions following after the trucks. "I have to get over there with my people. Oh m'God! We have to get together for a long, long talk, Chad. Really!" She kissed his cheek again and hurried after the other UN workers.
Senior Chief Dawkins and Connie walked up to him, grinning. Dawkins chuckled. "Man, Murchison, you work fast, don't you?"
Connie laughed. "She hadn't been off the plane a full minute before you made your moves. Way to go, guy!"
"Yeah," he said sadly. "I'm a regular Don Juan."
He walked away, wanting more than anything to be by himself. Seeing Penny again had stirred up old feelings of hurt and humiliation, of being rejected and unwanted. He was both sad and angry at the same time. He had pushed the girl into the far distant recesses of his heart, but now here she was back, all beautiful and desirable as she had always been.
Evidently the old maxim about women all being the same when they stood on their heads did not apply to Penelope Brubaker.
Chapter 21
UN RELIEF CAMP
3 SEPTEMBER
DR. Pierre Bouchier's medical and advisory teams were now into their second day of ministering to the Pashtuns living in and around Warlord Hassan Khamami's fortress. Even the people who belonged to the now defunct band of the late Ayyub Durtami were included in the program. Khamami had generously allowed them to take advantage of the UN offerings because of the martyrdom of their men in the final battles with the American SEALs. Another very important aspect he considered was the fact that their sons would reach adulthood someday to serve as his mujahideen. They would come in handy when he renounced the recent surrender to launch a campaign to renew his former glory. This future coup d'etat would be more than amply financed through opium poppy cultivation.
The UN's initial efforts in the fiefdom were a bit chaotic on the first day. The relief workers had not expected the five hundred people to show up all at once. But most of the staff had faced similar situations in Africa during civil wars that produced hordes of refugees. In only a short hour, using interpreters from the UN center in Kabul, the people were lined up in groups and pointed in the direction they should go.