Jack Terral - Seals (2005)

"Of course," Brannigan said. "It's a lot like what I have to put up with. There are times when I feel very strong about blowing certain people or places off the face of the earth. I realize that the world would be better off without them, but I can't do a thing because of orders or regulations."

"But you say you can deal with this warlord?"

"I defeated him in battle," Brannigan said. "I've been assured this gives me a certain leverage with the man. He evidently feels he has something to lose if any big trouble occurs around here."

"That is correct:' Bouchier said. "It would interfere with the opium trade. It would be exceedingly costly to him if that enterprise was taken away."

"I'm not concerned with that," Brannigan said. "All I want to deal with are those poor bastards he thinks he owns. Will you be able to help them?"

"I'll see that they are given priority over the others when they appear at our camp:' Bouchier assured him.

Brannigan finished his brandy. "It may take a day or two, but I'll have them here." He stood up and offered his hand. "Nice to do business with you, Doctor."

"Likewise, monsieur le lieutenant."

.

UN RELIEF CAMP

4 SEPTEMBER

0845 HOURS LOCAL

ACTING under Lieutenant Wild Bill Brannigan's extremely stern orders, Warlord Hassan Khamami smothered both his pride and his anger to send his chief lieutenant, Ahmet Kharani, with a party of guards, over to the Dharyan camp to gather up the slaves.

The UN relief workers had seen much human suffering in their experiences with bringing aid to victimized peoples, and the Dharyans weren't the worse by far. They were not walking skeletons covered with sores, but it was obvious they had been badly used by their masters. The clan was malnourished, dressed in rags and suffered from various ailments brought on by the mistreatment.

As soon as they arrived at the relief camp, the slaves were quickly and efficiently split up by sex and age. After the proper grouping was accomplished, they were further divided according to their physical conditions. Many of the men, though in need of sustenance, had a natural strength that served them well. The women, on the other hand, were all in terrible shape. Giving birth had sapped their strength, and their men had kept them pregnant as if it were a divine command sent down to them from Allah. The children they brought into the world showed the effects of suckling at the breasts of malnourished mothers. On two occasions, UN workers gently but firmly pried dead infants from the arms of delirious young women who had been carrying them around several days after death.

At that point, Dr. Bouchier decided to forgo any medical treatment for the moment. That was just as well because all the Dharyans had any interest in was getting something to eat. When the first packets were passed out, the hungry people quickly tore them open to scarf down whatever victuals needed no cooking.

Even as they consumed the packages of dried fruit, energy bars and candy, they were herded over to a spot where tents had been erected for them by mujahideen who had survived the battle with the SEALs. This camp also included blankets, along with cooking pots and utensils. The clan leader took over from the UN at that point. His name was Bashar Dahrain, and he was a young man aged far beyond his years. He quickly prodded and hollered at his people until the various family groups were properly installed in individual tents.

Within a quarter of an hour pots of rice were hanging over fires while wheat flour was being molded into dough for bread. Penny Brubaker and her small team went from family to family, passing out powdered milk and nursing formula. The interpreters gave quick and adequate instruction on how to use the plastic bottles and nipples to feed the babies. The mothers, ecstatic with the knowledge that they could now give nourishment to their infants, turned their attention from the cooking tasks to see to the feeding of the little ones. Older daughters and nieces took over the other chores.

Dr. Bouchier gazed at the tents with his assistant surgeon. "We'll take care of the medical examinations tomorrow." He looked over at the edge of the camp, noting the arrival of a half dozen SEALs. "C' est bon! Lieutenant Brannigan has sent some of his men to make sure these poor people are not molested."

The assistant surgeon, a pacifist Canadian, shook his head in dismay. "If only we could accomplish our goals without help from the military."

.

BRANNIGAN'S CP

1400 HOURS LOCAL

THE Dharyan clan chief Bashar Dahrain and the UN interpreter entered Brannigan's tent. He offered them seats on a couple of camp stools. He remained standing, his arms across his chest. "What can I do for you?"

The interpreter was a Kabul city youth dressed in Western clothing. He spoke English with a combination of American and British inflexions. "Mr. Dahrain wishes to express his most sincere gratitude for the help you have given his people. They now have their freedom and are being helped back to their former lives. He wishes for Allah to bestow countless blessings on you:'

"All right," Brannigan said. "Tell him that he's welcome."

The interpreter spoke to the Dharyan for a few moments, then turned back to the American. "Mr. Dahrain begs your pardon, but he must ask you for more help. He says that his people have not all been freed by the warlord. He says there are eighteen young women who are still held in the fortress. He humbly pleads for you to see that they are rejoined with their families." The interpreter paused for a moment. "Dr. Bouchier is aware of this situation and also requests your help. He has dealt with similar cases in the past. He feels the women will need medical attention even more than the ones he has already seen:'

Brannigan was puzzled. "Why is the warlord holding these females?"

"I fear he has forced them to become inmates of a brothel, sir," the interpreter said. "They have been outraged now for many months by the mujahideen."

"Tell this gentleman that those unfortunate women will be taken to the UN clinic before this day is out," Brannigan said. "And I will need your services as an interpreter to put this crappy situation right."

"I will be only too glad to serve you, sir."

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AL-SARAYA CASTLE

1420 HOURS LOCAL

WHEN Warlord Hassan Khamami took in the late Ayyub Durtami's people, he also became the master of the farming village Heranbe in the dead warlord's fiefdom. This added several more fields to his opium poppy enterprise.

Now Khamami and Ahmet Kharani were holding an important meeting in the throne room. The two men were deep into the process of planning out the next harvest program of the valuable crop. Production estimates had to be made, schedules designed for transport to the clandestine shipping center, and the next year's prices established. All this was done without paperwork. In an environment where most of the people were illiterate, it would have been impractical to establish complicated administrative procedures. The centuries-old custom of handshakes and committing to memory all arrangements of how the business would be conducted worked out fine in those Afghanistan mountains. A side benefit of the primitive system was that it was impossible for the authorities to trace these clandestine goings-on. A computer system had yet to be devised that could penetrate men's minds to read their thoughts and intentions.

The work was interrupted when the captain of the guard rapped on the door and stepped into the throne room. He bowed deeply to the warlord. "Amir, please forgive this interruption. The American commander and a UN man are outside. The American insists on seeing you now."

"Send them in," Khamami said. He looked over at Kharani. "I wonder what demands he has now."