Page 71 of Keeping London (Flawed Heart)

I lean back and listen to Cooper fill me in on the news pertaining to his sisters and parents and other friends of Maggie’s. None of it is that interesting or particularly relevant to our lives here, but his words are soothing in an odd way.

Talk of normalcy and home is like a lullaby for soldiers. It’s a quiet reminder of why we’re here, why we’re fighting. The life that we all take for granted when we’re in it is actually the pot of gold at the end of the rainbow. Living a life that is so ordinary is a true gift, one worth defending at all costs.

We park by the mountain’s edge on the outskirts of Sarowbi. As soon as we exit the vehicle, all side conversations are over, and we’re completely concentrated on the task at hand. Even though, more than likely, this is going to be a giant waste of time, we never execute a mission without putting one hundred percent of our focus toward it. Surprises happen, and here, they aren’t good things, so we must always be ready and alert.

Putting on our night goggles, we make our way on foot through the darkness at the base of the mountain. A surveillance stop on the outskirts of the village doesn’t show anything suspicious, so we continue forward until we’re standing outside our destination. It’s a small home that looks like it was made out of clay from the earth. The holes for the windows are covered by fabric curtains on the inside and nothing more. If the general chose to seek protection here, he mustn’t be very bright. That, or he has very little options. There are two doors, one in the front and the other in the back.

We quickly take our positions, armed and ready.

On cue, we enter the building. Screams of surprise and confusion sound through the glorified hut as we point our weapons toward the occupants. After a diligent inspection of those inside, we realize our target is definitely not among them. Our translator stays along with a couple of armed soldiers, and the rest of us exit the home and await further instructions outside.

“Surprise, surprise,” Cooper says to me as we exit.

“I know. I had a feeling it would be a wild goose chase.”

“Me, too.”

A half hour later, when the soldiers emerge from the house, the sun is up, and the village people are starting to rise and start their day.

“It turns out, he was here, in the village, though the family in this home says he didn’t stay with them. They also state that they haven’t seen him in a couple of weeks but that someone in this village is bound to know something,” Captain Ismirle informs our unit. “Berkeley and Cooper, take your guys down the south side of the street. Stop at each house, and see what you can find.” He addresses one of our military translators, “Liles, you can go with them.” He turns to a lieutenant leading another unit. “Parker, take your guys to the houses on the north side. Let’s see what we can find.”

We get started. Not surprisingly, none of the residents want to talk to us, and they are hesitant to give us any information. I don’t blame them. If anyone from Al-Qaeda found out that they helped us, they would wind up dead. We never leave these types of missions with much intel to speak of. A lot of what we do is not only listening to what the people of the village say, but also taking in all the details of their homes, looking for weapons or clues.

Around mid morning, we enter another home, in which the residents once again swear they have no information. As Liles continues to speak with them, Cooper nudges my boot with his. I turn to him, and he nods toward the back room. I immediately notice the rug that’s on the floor. I can’t explain it, but something’s off about it.

We walk to the back room, and I kick at the rug with my boot. Sure enough, a door is revealed. We look around the small room before Cooper bends to open the wooden door in the floor while I cover him. Inside the hidden compartment, we find IEDs, mortar rockets, other explosives, and a bunch of machine guns.

“Oh, they know something.” Cooper shakes his head.

“They sure do,” I agree.

We head the few steps back into the front room to find the Afghan family gone.

“Where’d they go?” I question, instinctual fear causing the hairs on the back of my neck to rise.

“They said they wanted to show us something outside. Liles took them out.” Jacoby nods toward the door.

“What?” Cooper asks. “That doesn’t even make sense.”

“I know,” Smith answers. “Liles seemed confused, too. He was thinking maybe he was missing something in the translation, so he wanted them to show him what they were talking about.”

“The woman kept looking down,” Jacoby adds. “I don’t trust her.”

“Yeah, well, she definitely knows something. We found an entire arsenal of weapons in the floor in the back room.” Cooper points to the back room.

“No shit!” our brother Nader exclaims.

“Let’s go give Liles backup, and then we’ll come back to figure this out,” I say right before a dark object flies in through the open window and drops on the floor. “Run!” I shout, knowing instantly that it’s a grenade.

They say that the seconds before you die play out in slow motion, and they’re right. In a matter of seconds, more thoughts than I thought were possible run through my mind.

I immediately take stock of my surroundings. The exits are both farther than a few seconds away. The sobering fact that we’ll never be able to clear a doorway before it explodes enters my thoughts.

We’re going to die.

The guys, four of my brothers, have lives, families, and loved ones.

Maybe some of us will make it?

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