Page 149 of Whisper
“Fuck you!” Kris shouted. His lungs seized, burned. Tears stung his eyes. “I am checking out and I am going back to Camp Carson! I am the base commander, and I will not sit here while one of our own has been kidnapped! Get me the fuck out of here, now!”
He pulled rank and threw his weight around. He was the base commander. He wasn’t going to be forced back into a hospital bed.
Finally, he was released, and one of the base ambulance helos ferried him back over the village to Camp Carson.
“Carson is on lockdown,” the pilot shouted at him over the rotors. “Only one helo is cleared for landing. From Kabul.”
Fucking Ryan. “I don’t care what you have to do, you get me on that base.”
The pilot spent twenty minutes talking to Carson’s landing officer, but finally, he touched down on the airfield. As they came in for landing, Kris saw the devastation, the destruction, the crater in the ground filled with blood-soaked gravel, the bullet-shredded command center. The flipped and burned car David had driven back to base.
David, my God, where are you?
Would he find David in the morgue? Or on the internet, a paraded captive of al-Qaeda? Which was worse?David, David, my love.
He forced the pain, the anguish away, and stumbled as fast as he could to the command center. CIA officers huddled outside, numb shock on their frozen faces. Others walked the destruction, taking photos, writing notes.
The investigation had already begun.
Kris badged into the command center. He threw open the door, grimacing—
“What the fuck areyoudoing here?” Ryan blocked his path. “Get the fuck out of here, Caldera.”
“No.” He gritted his teeth. “I am the base commander here—”
“Not anymore you’re not!”
“We have a man out there! And I am not leaving until we get him back!”
“Do you even know who it is?”
Kris shook his head. Tears built, white-hot, in his eyes.
“It’s Haddad. The jihadis searched for him, specifically took him.”
He gasped, fell forward. Dizziness turned his world upside down, and he clung to a chairback to stay upright. Tears cascaded down his cheeks, Niagara Falls erupting from his eyes. “What do we know?” he whispered.
“You are not a part of this investigation—”
“Don’t youdaretry and shut me out of this—”
“Youfailedto properly secure the Hamid operation, youfailedto properly vet the source, and youfailedto protect the lives of people under your command—”
“Don’t you dare pin this all on me! You signed off on the operation!”
“You are through on this base, and in the CIA!”
“I’m fucking going to get David back!” Kris shrieked. “Do not push me out of this! That is my husband out there! My husband, kidnapped! We don’t have time for this! We have to get him back, before they—” His voice stopped, unable to say the words. His brain skittered forward though, finishing the thought.Before they murder him.
Ryan’s chest heaved. He glared at Kris, pure fury burning Kris from the inside out. Fine, hate him. Blame him. Kris didn’t care.
A hundred pairs of eyes in the command center stared him down, all the men and women who had been inside when the blast happened, when the bullets flew. Did they all blame him too? Broken monitors lay in a heap in the corner, full of bullet holes. Lights hung from their mounts on the ceiling, swaying and dark. He’d allowed the base to be attacked, to be breached. He’d let everyone’s lives to be put at risk.
But he only cared about one life. David’s.
“What is the status of the search?” He spoke through clenched teeth, his body trembling.
Silence.
