Page 42 of Cross Down
Mel says, “Anybody remember anything we did or saw that might be relevant?”
Two years. Lot of water under the proverbial bridge. Back then I was a married man, and now I’m a widower.
Some of my memories about that classified trip remain a bit fuzzy. But a scene crystallizes in my mind: Canvas tents, men and women in medical garb working hard to save some wounded civilians.
Ruiz says, “I remember hearing a couple of rumors about a village from our local guides, but it had nothing to do with our mission so I didn’t pay much attention.”
I ask, “What did they say?”
Ruiz says, “That a village had been destroyed a few klicks from near where we crossed the border.”
“Destroyedas in bombed?” I ask.
“Destroyedas in flattened from one end to the other, nothing left but broken stone, timber, dust, and the bodies of the villagers and their animals. Our guides heard about it and thought we had done it.”
Mel says, “Bullshit. No strike missions since the pullout, just classified missions like ours.”
Deacon says, “I heard the same rumor from the locals and dismissed it just like you. We would have been briefed if an attack package had been delivered in our vicinity. It couldn’t have been our forces.”
I say, “But suppose that somehow, somewhere, forces under our control mistakenly destroyed that village and killed innocents. Maybe that’s the connection to the terrorist attacks. A revenge mission, some sort of jihad.”
Ruiz says, “Two years later?”
“C’mon,” I say. “Tribes up in those mountains have been bearing grudges and swearing blood oaths since the Brits marched in two centuries ago. What’s two years to avenge an injustice?”
Deacon slowly nods, and I think,She knows something. She knows something.
Outside, I hear the hooting of owls.
Ruiz says, “John, what about you?”
I say, “I remember coming across an aid camp over the border. Anybody else?”
Mel says, “Hold on, yeah, give me a minute.”
Ruiz says, “Don’t waste that minute.”
Chapter
49
Maynard and hisarmed crew are in position, wearing tactical gear, ballistic helmets, and vests that say in loud yellow lettersNCSBI SWAT—NCSBI is for North Carolina State Bureau of Investigation. If Maynard were a grateful sort of guy, he’d thank Sampson for bringing his army pal to a location so remote, there’s only one streetlight in the area.
Maynard raises a fist and gives a quick pump, and they move quietly and deliberately through the darkness and across the dirt road to the cottage where Sampson and his army friend are staying.
Too bad that in about thirty seconds, Sampson won’t be alive to hear any thanks.
Chapter
50
The look onDeacon’s face reminds me of something I saw on the highly classified and remote airfield in Tajikistan where we were stationed in tents on wooden floors. I’d just met Deacon but I’m certain that the expression she wears today is identical to the one she had while talking to a two-star army general not long before we crossed over to Afghanistan.
What was that general’s name? Why was he there?I say, “Elizabeth, anything to add? Any intelligence reports or sources indicate that these domestic attacks might be someone trying to get revenge?”
“No, not a word.” She says it so quickly and confidently that I’m sure she’s lying.
On the Zoom screen, Ruiz’s head starts to slide away, and Mel calls out, “Hey, Paco, secure your camera. Looks like you’re about to pass out and sink to the floor.”
