Night Victims

49

Afghanistan, 2001

SSF trooper Joe Vine used a polymer line and belayer to rappel down the rocky mountain face to the cave entrance they’d spotted from the ground. The main cave was still being explored. The Taliban had been driven from the area, or deeper into the caves, so there shouldn’t be much danger in Vine checking out this cave by himself. Judging by the contours of the mountain, it was probably small and shallow and not much more than a grotto. This region was full of such minor caves, sometimes man-made, with dark entrances that usually led nowhere.

The mission was to mop up any remaining Taliban resistance, then search the caves for records and munitions. That could, of course, be extremely dangerous.

Vine stopped his descent about a yard to the side of the cave entrance. He saw now that the cave might be reachable by using a narrow path below, but it would be difficult, and, in places, the rocky path disappeared.

He would have tossed a grenade into the cave before entering, only the unit didn’t want to make its presence known.

The sound of the grenade explosion would echo around the mountainous terrain, and the resultant smoke might be visible for miles.

So Vine readied his automatic weapon, gathered his guts, and pushed off from the mountain face to swing in through the cave entrance and take anyone inside by surprise.

From sunlight to dimness. It took a fraction of a second for Vine’s vision to adjust.

Which was a good thing, or he might have squeezed the trigger.

Inside was his fellow SSF unit member Aaron Mandle. He was stooped over a bundle of some sort and staring up at him in surprise.

“Shit!” Vine said, relaxing. “You beat me to this one.”

Mandle didn’t answer, didn’t move.

And Vine looked down at the bundle at Mandle’s feet and knew why.

It was a young Afghan girl, wound tightly in her burka, which was darkly stained. Vine knew the stain and the faint metallic scent in the cave. Fresh blood.

“What the fuck did you do, Aaron?”

“It doesn’t matter,” Mandle said, standing straight now and smiling, his automatic weapon slung beneath his right arm, the knife in his left. “I found her in here.”

“Like this?”

Mandle actually smiled. “Not exactly, Joe.”

Vine sat down on the hard earth. “Fuck! Oh, fuck!”

“I didn’t do that to her.”

“What I mean,” Vine said, “is that you can’t get by with something like this, Aaron. It’s murder.”

“It’s war, Joe. Total fuckin’ war. The small and the crawl-that’s us, Joe-we get fucked in total war. Any goddamn thing goes.”

“Not that!” Vine said, pointing to the dead girl, marveling at how pale and angelic her face looked in the dim cave. She must have lost most of her blood before she died.

“Yeah, that,” Mandle said. “It’s what we trained for, Joe. Don’t shit yourself, it’s what we trained for.”

“That kid’s not the enemy!”

“Sure she is, just like all those Kraut and Jap civilians we bombed in World War Two. You ever read history, Joe?”

“Yeah, history. .” Vine was feeling a little sick. The heat, even in the dim, shallow cave. The dead girl and the smell. Jesus!. .

“I want you to do me a favor, Joe.”

“I know. Forget about this.”

“For a while, is all I’m asking. Until we can both think some more. Talk some more. Maybe straighten this thing out. Will you do that for me? I’d sure as fuck do it for you.”

Vine worked his way to his feet, still feeling woozy. He glanced at his watch.

“We gotta rejoin the unit,” Mandle said.

“Yeah, Aaron.”

“Thanks, brother,” Mandle said. “I owe you big.”

Vine wasn’t quite sure if he’d agreed to anything. He had to get away and find some time. Think about this.

He led the way out of the cave.

Closer to the base of the mountain, at the mouth of the main cave, they heard gunshots.

Mandle and Vine looked at each other. Then training took over. Crouched and fast, they moved into the cave with weapons at the ready.

The firefight was over when they reached the bend in the cave. Three al-Qaida lay dead in limp bundles like the girl in the other cave. Colonel Kray had a brown metal box tucked beneath his left arm.

Vine almost said something to him then, even though it wasn’t the right time. The girl in the cave. Probably no more than twelve or thirteen. She was a kid. .

Mandle was staring at him.

And for the first time Vine felt afraid of Aaron Mandle.

And felt his resolve waver.

After all, Mandle could simply deny Vine’s story. Might even say he, Vine, killed the girl. Simply reverse their roles. There were no witnesses, only a dead Afghan girl. Dead in a country of death.

Gotta think about this, Vine told himself, and held his silence.

Think about it.

“. . time we shag-ass outta here,” Kray was saying. “We got what we wanted. Looks like it could be a schematic for some kinda biological weapon or some such shit. We get it back to base, no matter what. Understood?”

“Understood, sir!” answered twelve voices almost in unison, heavy on the sir.

Kray motioned with his right arm and led the way out of the cave, toward sunlight and heat.

Vine spat on the cave floor and fell in behind Mandle, knowing he’d turned a corner in his mind, trying to convince himself he hadn’t.

Think about it..