Chapter 4

CHAPTER 4

Davila mapped it out with pen and paper, using a crate as a table, drawing what looked like a long-handled flat-edge spade, which he then divided lengthwise.

“Okay, this is Kabul Airport and that, ” he said, tapping the long handle, “is your runway. West is left; east is right. Above and below, north and south. Concrete walls with watchtowers around the whole shebang. On the north side, you’ve got hardened military facilities. Below, on the south side of the airport, where we are now, you got your civilian facilities: main entrance via Airport Road and then a buncha hangars and the passenger terminal. You got Taliban checkpoints and chokepoints on Airport Road, one to the west and one to the east. Main entrance via South Gate is here,” he said, penning a small X near the bottom righthand corner. “South is, unsurprisingly, opposite its counterpart, North Gate, on the other side of the airport.” Another X in the rectangle’s upper righthand corner. “With me so far?”

“I think I can read a compass,” John said, his tone snappish.

“Patience, Young Skywalker,” Flowers said. “Hear the Master out.”

Flowers, he thought, might be a fun guy to hang with in another life. Pity this wasn’t that. To Driver: “I know all this. What’s the punchline here?”

Driver held up a hand. “Much as I hate to agree with Flowers, hold your horses. I’m getting there. Now, to the right of South Gate—so, east —you got Abbey Gate,” he said, marking the spot with an X, “and even further on, you got East Gate.”

“Sort East-of-East Gate,” Flowers said. “Or Further East, take your pick.”

He was learning to ignore Flowers. “South and East Gate are closed and irrelevant, Driver. All you got open on that side is Abbey Gate.”

“Correct. That’s where all the people and all the manpower, Taliban chokepoints and checkpoints and our own, even the temporary embassy, are concentrated. Now, let’s move north, across the runway. There’s North Gate.” He touched pen to a point on the righthand side of the paper. “Directly off Russia Road. Also heavily guarded, heavily manned.”

John nodded. “And not far from Joint Operations Command where they’re funneling all the refugees for a final check. We’re bunked at Camp Alvarado about a half mile west to the left. So what? ”

“Getting there. So, you got buildings and hangars all along the south and where the buildings peter out, there’s a small airfield for some private planes, and you got housing crowded up all along Airport Road. But to the north, about a half mile west of Camp Alvarado…” Driver tapped the paper. “You got nothing. Just a great big chunk of empty land. It’s still part of the airport, but there’s nothing there. Well,” he amended, “virtually nothing. Even Russian Road is a good third of a mile north of it because of the way the road curves.”

“You said virtually . What’s there? Another gate?”

“Nope. A service road that feeds in from Russian Road onto the airport grounds. It’s small, too, only thirty feet wide. Just asphalt that’s got more holes than Flowers’s socks and narrows down to a chokepoint at a single-lane bridge over a sewer ditch. After that, you’re in the airport.”

“That’s where you’re bringing people in?”

“I’d say give the man a gold star, but then I’d be Flowers.”

“There are worse fates,” Flowers said.

“Name one,” Meek said.

John ignored them both. “And there’s really nothing there?”

“Yes and no. The only landmark of note is one of those twenty-four-hour gas stations and a small store, like a Kwik-Mart? But even that is on the far side of the road—not the airport side but the outer lane of Russian Road. The station’s called the Panjir Pump. There are people waiting there at the station, but not thousands. You’ve got people filling up, you’ve got people running a market, an open-air bazaar.”

“They even got Red Bull,” Flowers said. “And here we think they ain’t civilized.”

“What keeps people from taking the service road to the airport?” John asked.

Driver held up a finger. “First off, it’s kind of a no-man’s land out there. Anyone trying to access the road would be spotted right away, even at night, and probably shot because, two…” He held up a second finger. “You got Zeroes kitted out with night-viz. They usually hit what they aim for. But there’s also razor wire all along the edge where the road meets up with Russian Road. The Zeroes will let approved vehicular traffic and people on foot through, but that’s it. Even when you’re through, you’re really not. You’re only at the end of the road. The Zeroes have set up Hescos, ten feet high and about fifty meters long, in a big square.”

“Called Hesco Square,” Flowers said. “Very original.”

“The Zeroes take anyone who gets through into the square where they’re searched and then allowed to head south on the road toward the airport. Sometimes, that’s on foot. Other times, there are vehicles. The Square’s also a good place to take cover.”

“Meaning there are people shooting out there,” John said .

“Oh, yeah, just not as bad as Airport Road. Once you get past Hesco Square, there are blast barrier chokepoints all along the service road before the bridge, including another area like the Square, only it’s more of semi-circle. Again, another place to take cover, another place for a search. After that, it’s a straight shot to the bridge. Even past the bridge, though, you’re still not in the airport. There are another six hundred feet and change of hardpack before you actually make it onto the actual grounds. There’s a gap in the wall at the northwest corner.” Davila inked a large X. “And I mean a literal hole in the wall. Also guarded and wide enough for vehicles.”

“And that’s how the spooks are moving people in and out?” John asked.

“Yup. Just yesterday before Abbey Gate happened? That’s how they brought busloads of embassy personnel.”

“I can’t believe the Taliban don’t know about this. For that matter, I can’t believe the people on the south side outside Abbey Gate don’t or haven’t known.”

“Oh, the Taliban know. They just don’t care. A pack of them will happen by the Panjir Pump every now and again to beat people up and show a presence, but they don’t want to tangle with the Zeroes,” Driver said. “They want to engage in an out-and-out fight with us even less. Remember, they want us gone.”

“Wow.” All his focus had been with his patients and the chaos on the south side. The north side of the airport was only a place where he slept. Or not , thinking of the nights of his and Roni’s lovemaking. All this was going on virtually outside his window. “How long has this back door been up and running?”

“About a week.” Driver capped his pen. “This is our way in with Shahida’s kids, but it’s got to be tonight.”

“And the Zeros will cooperate?” He remembered what Roni had said on their way into Kabul. “I’ve heard they can get pretty rough.”

Shahida had been silent through Driver’s explanation but now stirred. “Zeroes hold grudge. Like to settle score, get even. With womans…they like boss around. Not all time. Some have good heart. But they scared, too. Don’t want get left behind. This, I tell Mac manys times. This, I worry about.”

“And I keep telling you,” Driver said, with the air of a person’s who gone through this same conversation a dozen times over, “the Zeros will not be a problem. For starters, we’ll be there.”

“More Zeroes with guns than you with guns,” Shahida said.

“But, second, that’s where Mac comes in. CIA’s got authority over that gate. They also have some of our Delta Force people if things get out of hand.”

“As in,” Flowers said, “if, you know, we’re coming in hot.”

“As in, followed by a hail of bullets,” Meeks added. “Or RPGs. ”

“Wait, what? Why would anyone try to interfere?” John asked. “Why would anyone shoot at kids?”

There was a long moment where the others tossed looks, and then Flowers said, “Well, I guess…because these kids know how to shoot back?”