Total pages in book: 122
Estimated words: 115997 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 580(@200wpm)___ 464(@250wpm)___ 387(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 115997 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 580(@200wpm)___ 464(@250wpm)___ 387(@300wpm)
Like I needed to be reminded.
“As of last night, three thousand of our troops are on the way, and all civilians, Afghan allies, and diplomats are under instruction to leave.” He glanced my way and I nodded, catching his meaning. “Our information indicates that an additional thousand boots of the Eighty-Second Airborne are going to be authorized today. Keeping the airport secure is the primary objective.”
The next picture appeared, showing the growing crowds outside the airport.
Yeah, that fuse was headed our way, all right.
“In the last two days, forty-six flights have gotten out, and as you can see, demand is considerably higher than supply,” Webb continued.
“Fucking Saigon,” Elston muttered, rubbing his hand down his beard.
I reached for my water bottle and drank, refusing to let that knot of anxiety in my throat grow any bigger. Izzy had to get out. Once she was on a plane, I could concentrate on what needed to be done.
“And last but not least.” Webb clicked the next picture, an overhead shot of Kabul taken by drone, showing the congested roadways leading into the city, and marking the checkpoints already captured by the Taliban on the outer rim of the small province. “The enemy is approaching the gates. I think it’s safe to say that President Ghani is no longer in control.”
We were about to be put into the same position as Kandahar.
Chairs squeaked as bodies shifted weight around me.
“Mazar-i-Sharif?” I asked.
“Holding,” Webb replied. “But we’re not sure for how long.”
Seemed to be the general consensus about everything around here.
“Now that most of the congressional teams have evacuated, our mission will be shifting,” Webb said as he handed out orders. The unit split into squads of four, which was nothing new to us, some assigned to high-value individuals for evacuation, and others to various tasks.
The briefing ended and everyone rose.
“Green,” Webb said as I pushed my chair in, and I nodded, hanging back as the others filed out of the room. The door shut before he spoke again. “Regarding Ms. Astor.”
“I’ll get her on the first plane.”
“Senator Lauren received her request to remain and be of use to the ambassador.” He cocked an eyebrow.
“I’m going to kill her.” I rubbed the bridge of my nose.
“Senator Lauren found the request . . . noble . . . and agreed, only insofar as we can get Ms. Astor out safely when the time comes, and I think we can both agree that the time is coming rapidly. Oh, and if we could make sure to get a photographer to catch a couple shots of her aide working diligently, since we didn’t take the obvious opportunity presented to us with the girls’ chess team.”
“Right.” Fucking politicians with their fucking PR.
He shut his laptop, and the projection turned to a blank blue screen. “Is there anything I should know about why your charge would request to stay in a country that is obviously disintegrating?”
“Her sister is a photojournalist on assignment in Mazar-i-Sharif.” I scratched the four-day growth of beard I had going. “Ms. Astor is loath to leave until her sister, also Ms. Astor, has, and stubbornness seems to be a genetic trait in that family, and Serena’s interpreter’s visa isn’t approved yet.”
“Hmm.” His eyes narrowed slightly, which I knew from experience meant he was taking in the information and calculating how it affected the mission. “I’m not in the mood to deal with a pissed-off senator or hand the Taliban a new source of YouTube material.”
“Me either.” That wasn’t going to happen to her.
He nodded. “Keep your usual team with you. It would be nice to get both sisters out, especially given their high profile, but our priority is the younger.”
“Noted.” My chest tightened. I cared about Serena and didn’t want to leave her behind, but I wouldn’t sacrifice Izzy for her. The problem was that Izzy wouldn’t agree.
I left Webb behind and headed out, finding Torres leaned up against the wall outside the door, waiting for me.
“How you doing?” he asked, keeping step with me down the dimly lit hallway.
“Fine. Can’t you tell?”
“I’ve seen air traffic controllers with less anxiety wafting off them, but if you want to go with fine . . .” He shrugged.
“I do,” I grumbled, climbing the stairs into the crowded lobby, then continuing up to Izzy’s suite. Her conference room had been taken over by embassy staff, all doing their best to process as many interviews as they could to complete visas.
Graham stood guard outside her door, and his dark brows shot up when he caught sight of me walking his way.
“You might want to check with Webb, but I think you get twice the imminent danger pay for walking in there,” Graham said, glancing sideways at Izzy’s door.
“And I’m telling you to look again!” she shouted, her voice carrying through the door.