Jack Terral - Seals (2005)

Gregori Parkalov saluted the colonel and nodded to Aburrani. "I am asking for asylum and for return to Soviet--er, that is--Russia."

"It would seem repatriation to your country could be arranged," Latrelle said. "How long have you been here in Afghanistan?"

"Twenty years," Parkalov answered. "I am taken prisoner when my helicopter is shot down by partisan enemy." He looked over at Aburrani and started to say something, but the Afghan frowned at him as a silent signal he mustn't reveal that they knew each other. The Russian turned his attention back to Latrelle. "I am most happy to answer what questions you have for me to ask."

"You can return to Kabul with Mr. Aburrani and me when we go back," Latrelle said. "Our intelligence people will want to have a friendly visit with you. Afterward, if things work out, I'm certain you will be turned over to the Russian embassy there."

"Thank you," Parkalov said.

"Meanwhile," Latrelle said, speaking to Brannigan, "we are going to fly over to the warlord's stronghold. I can tell you confidently that he is defeated and most of his army is wiped out. However, he has great influence in this area and Mr. Aburrani has assured me that he will be most cooperative with us due to the drubbing he suffered here yesterday."

"That is most true," Aburrani added. "He will be useful in the pacification program of the government. Our contacts have assured me that he is ready to practice the Pashtun custom that is called nanawatey. He has admitted defeat and is willing to humble himself before us in total surrender, as well as beg for forgiveness."

Brannigan's voice was cold when he said, "I'd like to put a bullet in the son of a bitch's skull."

"Now, Lieutenant," Latrelle said, "this is just one of many atypical situations that arise in our work in Afghanistan. Believe me, nanawatey is a very serious custom. You are to be congratulated for your efforts in bringing this about. It is the best kind of victory as far as the local people are concerned."

"I'd still like to put a bullet in the son of a bitch's skull:' Brannigan insisted.

"I need to see a very quick change in your attitude," Latrelle said seriously. "You will be going with us to Khamami's fortress. The fact that there are only fourteen of you will serve to impress him and his people of the fighting qualities of the American armed forces. The rifle platoon over there is also for show, but they are fully armed in case of trouble."

"That's fine, sir," Brannigan said. "By the way, I have two KIA buried on West Ridge where we had our base camp. I would appreciate it if arrangements can be made to have them disinterred and returned home." He reached in his pocket and pulled out a slip of paper. "These are the GPS coordinates of the graves. We also cached a lot of equipment. Some of it is personal property of platoon members. They would like to get it back."

"Of course, Lieutenant," Latrelle said. "I'll have this information radioed to Kabul. That can be taken care of today. Your equipment and possessions will be put into the Navy's administrative and logistic channels." He nodded to Aburrani. "Are we ready to go?"

"Indeed," Aburrani replied.

"You and your executive officer can fly in the first chopper with Mr. Aburrani and me," Latrelle said to Brannigan. "The rest of your men can take the second."

Dawkins took Parkalov by the arm. "I'll get everyone aboard."

.

OUTSIDE WARLORD KHAMAMI'S FORTRESS

1000 HOURS LOCAL

HASSAN Khamami had set up a large tent some fifty meters from the entrance to his fortress. A carpet had been put on the floor and cushions provided for seating. The warlord and his new chief lieutenant, Amet Kharani, sat inside. With the deaths of Major Malari and Captain Tanijai, Durtami's former assistant had been promoted to this new prestigious post. Now he and the warlord hardly spoke a. word as they unhappily waited for the arrival of their expected visitors.

"Amir!" a guard at the entrance called out. "We can see helicopters flying in this direction."

"Very well," Khamami replied in a resigned tone of voice. Although he hid it well, the loss of his field commanders grieved him deeply. They were old comrades who had shared many episodes of danger with him. Their loyalty and friendship went far beyond mere professional relationships. Khamami took a deep breath of resignation, glancing over at Kharani. "Please go to welcome my guests."

Kharani got to his feet and walked from the tent in time to see six helicopters settling down to a landing. Their rotor blades blew up clouds of fine dust along with small pebbles that peppered the tent behind Kharani and the guards. When the engines were cut, Kharani spotted Aburrani getting out of one of the aircraft, with three American officers. One was in a starched, press BDU while the others appeared as if they had been rolling in the dirt. The Pashtun walked over and bowed low.

"Pakhair," Kharani said, making a Pashto welcome that only Aburrani understood. "It is good to see you again, Brother Aburrani."

"Likewise," Aburrani said. "Does the warlord await us?"

"He is in the tent," Kharani said. "Follow me, please."

He led the four visitors to where the pair of guards on duty salaamed respectfully to them as they entered. Khamami was on his feet, but immediately dropped to his knees, leaning over until his forehead touched the carpet. He began speaking in Pashto, in a low, mournful voice.

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?"