Page 27 of The Fourth Option
Staub was conferring with Ali and the Zero Unit commander.
“They’re ready, boss. They are going to do a dual entry, front and rear. I’ll go with Team One to the front. You go with Team Two to the rear.”
“Wish we could soften this place up with some 105 rounds.”
“Well, we don’t have an AC-130.”
“No, we don’t. Let’s grab this fucker and get back to base.”
The two Americans broke out of the courtyard with their respective elements, sprinting along the street to their breach points, with Zero Unit security sending rounds through windows to keep anyone from shooting out.
Cover and move.
Walker was second to last in the line of march so he could coordinate with the snipers and air ISR asset.
As a Zero Unit breacher knelt to place a charge on the rear door, bullets zipped through the wood just above his head. The point man returned fire.
Walker heard the breaching charge from Team One detonate at the other side of the structure. There was a split second when he was aware of another explosion. His mind briefly wondered what it could be because his Team Two breacher had not yet placed his charge on the rear door. As the building came down on top of him, Walker had one final thought before he was consumed by darkness, fire, and dust:What the hell are we doing here?
Walker awoke to the rhythmicwhompof rotor blades.
“Glad you’re alive, partner,” a dirt- and grime-covered John Staub said from the bench seat above him.
“What happened?” Walker asked, attempting to push himself to his elbows, wincing in pain at the effort.
“Stay down, brother. We’re en route to Bagram.”
“Did the whole fucking house come down?”
“It should have, but the booger-eaters fucked it up and the explosive went low-order. Only took down half.”
“How many did we lose?”
“Eight that we know of. Two unaccounted for. Probably dead. QRF inbound. Zero Unit was not leaving until they had all their men.”
“Site secure?”
“As secure as you can be in Afghanistan.”
“Dave and Nate?”
“They stayed with the unit to coordinate. Standby Zero squadron is inbound to assist.”
“Abrar?”
Staub shook his head. “He was in the half that came down. A wall collapsed on you. Your body armor and helmet saved your life. The boys were using carpets as stretchers to move the wounded to the HLZ. We found you in the rubble and carried you to the helo in that fucking carpet from Naji.”
Walker turned his head to the side, aware that he was lying on a maroon rug.
“It was in a part of the house that didn’t come down,” Staub continued. “And, I’m fine, by the way. Thanks for asking.”
Walker leaned his head back on the floor of the fuselage and closed his eyes.
“Don’t you go dying on me,” Staub said.
“I wouldn’t do that to you.”
Walker thought of the absurdity of it all; an American on a Russian helo flown by an Afghan in a war with no end.
