15
By the time everything was in place, night had fallen. The temperature was down into the breathable eighties and Chris was sweating more than he did standing out in the midday sun. Dry lightning crackled over the city as it so often did—bright flashes, sharp cracks, and no promise of rain.
He sat at the wheel of the Corolla four blocks and one turn from the terrorists’ compound and wished there was a different solution.
But then, as he waited, he could feel the operation-mode take over. There was no past or future within the heart of an operation—only the moment.
For the third time in the last hour his radio crackled to life. “White SUV inbound.”
The last two had driven by and continued on into the heart of the city. The compound lay at the end of Lashkargah 2 Road at the north edg
