That may have been true. But I wanted to know how you sorted out the friendly Taliban from the ones wiring themselves with explosives, even as the Afghan president allied himself with his neighbors: Iran and Pakistan, nations that served as training grounds and safe havens for those wanting to destroy the United States.

Everyone had answers that involved false assumptions, sweeping generalizations, and a skewed understanding of the complexities, contradictions, and culture of Afghanistan.

But that was all politics, right? None of my business. I just needed to capture a Taliban commander. One of the first things I learned after joining the military was to focus on my mission and leave the debates to the fat boys back home. I talked to my colleagues, and it was the same old story: Officers who got too caught up in the politics of their missions were, in most cases, not as successful as those who did not. Success was judged on whether the mission goals had been achieved and at what cost.

Lest we be accused of theft instead of borrowing, we dropped off the pickup trucks at the edge of town and were met by a driver and Hummer for the ride back to the FOB.

En route, I made a satellite phone call to Lieutenant Colonel Gordon, who suggested I speak directly with General Keating. I tried to restrain myself from exploding as I described the situation to the general. He told me Harruck had contacted him already. “Sir, the bottom line is, I want the guy’s head on a platter.”

“You guys were very well liked and made a great team during that Robin Sage.”

“Yes, sir. But I don’t think the captain is playing on our team anymore.”

“I know you feel that way, but you need to understand something. First, I can’t stop you from lopping off his head. If you put it in writing, I’ll have to forward the charge.”

“I’ll have it to you right away.”

“Slow down, son. Our situation is complicated, and Captain Harruck’s mission further complicates matters. But that can and should work to our advantage.”

“Excuse me, sir?”

“Mitchell, we can use his mission as a distraction to keep everyone busy while you hunt down our boy. The COIN mission is our screen. Harruck’s attempts to win over the locals will keep the Taliban busy.”

“Sir, how about the same plan, only we let the XO take over. Lose Harruck.”

The general sighed deeply. “Better the devil we know than the devil we don’t, Mitchell.”

“Sir, you’ve got to be kidding me.”

“Son, this has already become a huge task management problem. We don’t need to make it more difficult. Go talk to Harruck. Work it out. I know you can.”

I could barely answer. “Yes, sir.”

“I’m counting on you, Mitchell.”

I ended the call before cursing.

“Oh, yeah?”

“He’s not a soldier. He’s a politician, just like the rest of them.”

“Just like you.”

He shook his head. “Come inside.”

I raised an index finger, deciding I was going to make this bastard suffer a little more for what he’d done. “At this point, I advise you to speak very carefully, because you’ve just committed a court-martial offense, and even worse, an immoral and ethical offense. You’ve not only disobeyed an order from a superior, you’ve broken the code of honor by endangering me and my Ghosts.”

“Scott, this is the part where I say I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

“Look, buddy, I won’t even ask what kind of proof you have or how you tried to orchestrate this thing to get yourself off. Point is, without authorization you called in those birds to abort my mission. And you know, if word of this gets out, it’ll spread like wildfire. No one will trust you.”

“I got two merchants who said people tied them up and stole their trucks. I got chopper pilots telling me you blew the bridge over the river. Hell, we heard the thing go up. And now you’re playing angel? Jesus Christ, Scott . . . you can’t walk in here and take over. I told you I got eight months in here! EIGHT GODDAMNED MONTHS!”

As he raised his voice, I grew more calm and paraphrased regulations, which I knew would spike his pulse. “By law, you were required to carry out the last order given to you by your superior officer and only afterward were you to question that order by going up the chain of command to my superiors. I’m sure neither Gordon nor Keating gave you the okay to abort my mission.”

“Don’t stand there and think you can burn me, Scott. I’ve got a lot on you, too. I’m talking lots of stuff in the closet, friendly-fire crap that was covered up . . . you know exactly what I’m talking about.”

Actually, I didn’t because there were too many close calls, too many missions where collateral damage needed to be addressed by my superiors, who, for the most part, kept me and my team out of the loop. Whatever he thought he had was probably bullshit . . . but then again, you never knew . . .

He turned and headed into his office. I followed. He crossed around his desk but remained standing. I kept near the door and didn’t take a chair, either.

After a deep breath, I said, “Simon, I’m trying to decide if I should have you removed from command.”

“That’s not your decision.”

“Once I light the fuse, there’s no putting it out.”

“Yeah, you like blowing things up. So why the bridge?”

“Changing the subject?”

“Do you realize what you’ve done?”

“Yeah, made it harder for them. They’ve been using the bridge we built to come over here and attack us. Now if they want to come, they get to go swimming.”

“That bridge was symbolic of our presence here.”

“Like the school and the police station and the well you want to drill?”

“Yeah. What’s wrong with that?”

“Man, I would’ve never seen this coming.” I closed my eyes and took another deep breath. “We can agree to disagree, but you cannot interfere with my mission.”

“You know your mission is worthless. And it might mean we have to sacrifice everything—even now when things are finally going to happen.”

“They gave me a target.”

“And you think you can act with impunity?”

I tensed. “I can and will act with impunity.”

“So now you’re God.”

My hands turned into fists. “Why are you doing this? We’re on the same side. Zahed is a thug.”

He rubbed the corners of his eyes. “You think I’m a bleeding-heart liberal now?”

“They sent you here to secure the town and help the people, and they’re calling that counterinsurgency. It’s a goddamned joke. They sent me here to capture or kill the bad guy. To them, it’s all very simple.”

“I just want to help these people, give their kids a school, let ’em have a police station, and let them have more drinking water so they’re not constantly screwed over by the Taliban, who’re selling it to them at outrageous prices. What’s wrong with that? We’re talking about basic human rights.”

I hardened my gaze. “At what cost? My life? The lives of my team?”

He couldn’t meet my gaze.

“Simon, you’re not here to create a legacy. Just get the job done. Secure the town. Assist in building the infrastructure.”

“They’re already talking about pulling me out. Giving me four months—if I’m lucky.”

“Well, you got the ball rolling now.”

He swore under his breath. “Maybe. So what’s next?”

“Well, I can’t trust you, but I still need this company’s support to get my job done. Does the XO know what happened?”

“Shoregan’s on my side. He’ll do whatever I say.”

“Don’t trust him. He wants your command, and I could give it to him right now.”

“Scott, I don’t want to take this any further.”

“Yeah, because you got caught.” I snorted. “I don’t care what you got on me. Bring it.”

“Just slow down, and think about what you’re doing . . . one minute you sound like you’ll let me off, the next you’re blowing the whistle.”

He was right. I was torn. I could still go against Keating’s wishes, burn Harruck, and back the old man into a corner; however, if I did that, Keating could easily ruin me.

I glanced over to the wall, where Harruck had proudly displayed pictures of his various tours. One on the left caught my eye: our Robin Sage training. I stood there with our class, with Simon at my side, his arm draped over my shoulder.

So right there I reasoned that now I could better control and even manipulate him. The guilt persuaded me to give him a chance.

At the same time, I couldn’t help but see him as a mindless cog in the wheel of socialism. Sure, we’d build the locals an infrastructure, but they’d screw us over and probably forget about us after we left. Nevertheless, Harruck billed himself as a humanitarian—one who’d been willing to sacrifice us for his “larger cause.” You had to love that irony.

“Here’s the plan,” I began. “You get word out to the village elders that the Taliban blew up the bridge and tried to frame some of the local merchants. That way we save face with Kundi and the rest of those idiots in the town.”

“I don’t think they’ll go for it.”

“Doesn’t matter. All we need is doubt. Just make them think everyone is lying. Now, with the bridge out, you’ll have a little more freedom to begin construction, because the Taliban will use the shallowest part of the river to cross, and they’ll have to move through the east side and approach through the valley and our choke point, so you guys can better defend against them now. I’ll help your men set up some overwatch positions and some gun emplacements.”

“So you knew that blowing that bridge would actually help my construction project?”

“Yeah, I did.”

“Then why didn’t you tell me?”

“I don’t know, Simon. You pissed me off the last time we talked, all right?”

He flumped into his chair. “I still can’t have you going into Sangsar and raising hell. And now that you’ve blown the bridge, they’ll attack us again.”

“Let them. They have to fight on our terms now. Zahed’s army will get smaller and demoralized, and then we’ll swoop in.”

“I can’t see this ending well, Scott.”

“It’s hard to see right now.” I found myself quoting Keating and hating myself for that. “Our situation is complicated.” I started for the door.

“So we have an agreement?”

I turned back. “What?”

“We call the chopper pickup a miscommunication, and from here on out, I won’t interfere with your mission.”

“You’re damned right you won’t.”

“But can you do me a favor?”

I almost chuckled, and there was no hiding my sarcasm. “Sure, we’re still bestest buddies.”

“Try contacting Zahed.”

“Excuse me?”

“Try to make direct contact with him. Maybe we can call a truce. If we can get him talking, maybe your mission can change.”

“He’s a terrorist.”

“That hasn’t been proven.”

“I plucked a little girl out of there—and she told me he’s a scumbag terrorist. That’s definitive.”

In truth, she hadn’t uttered a word about Zahed himself, but her eyes had told me enough.

Harruck went on with his speculation. “Maybe he doesn’t have full control of his men. He’s a politician, too. He wouldn’t condone that.”

“So it’s okay that I talk to the leader of an insurgency who rapes children in the name of saving these other children over here.”

“Scott, we can debate this all night.”

“No, we can’t. And we won’t. The fat man will be captured or killed before I leave. And if he’s not, then I’ll be the one leaving in a body bag.”

I hurried out into the cooler air as two Hummers came rolling by. Harruck had put the entire base on alert, and all the engines and shouting made me wince. I couldn’t wait to collapse into my rack. Maybe I’d wake up back in North Carolina. I could tell Auntie Em that I’d had a terrible dream about a sandstorm that had carried me away to a land where camels had wings and no one told the truth.