Paktika province, Afghanistan
Sgt. James Faulder licked his dry, cracked lips as the bitter, cold mountain wind whistled through the rocky region. Though he had been on a number of risky operations previously, he was tensed. Probably because he knew what was at stake. The more he tried to calm down, the more rapidly he felt his heart start to beat against his chest. A lot was riding on the success of this mission. His thoughts started to drift towards Mary, his 6 -year old daughter, who he hadn’t seen in almost 15 months since he had been deployed to Combat Outpost Zerok, a tiny US Army base nestled between the pine shaped mountains in Eastern Afghanistan.

He tried to coax his thoughts back to the present, but his emotional side had started to take over. “This is not right!” he thought, as he leaned against the outer wall of the compound, “I’m a soldier. Lives depend on what I do! I shouldn’t be getting emotional now.” Clutching the standard issue Glock revolver tighter and closer to his chest, James looked around the otherwise barren terrain. At seven thousand feet above sea-level, this remote area was an insurgent haven. The ruggedness of the topography and the extreme climate could make an average civilian wheeze for breath just trying to take a walk. The mountains had thousands of caves and deep valleys from where the Faqeeri insurgents and the Taliban periodically attacked the US base. During summer and drier months, it rained mortar shells all over the base. And during winter, the weather took a turn for the worse. Heavy snowfall and sharp, biting winds at over 40 miles an hour made even the most basic defensive manoeuvres cumbersome and difficult.

James smiled as he thought about the first time he had laid eyes on Combat Outpost Zerok. The entire area was about the size of a soccer pitch, the perimeters of which was made from dry earth, scooped up and packed into wire mesh cubes and stacked against each other to form rather primitive walls, ones that probably wouldn’t stop a charging baby in its tracks. The initial panic about the make-shift walls soon paved way to other more severe challenges. The barracks, if they could be called that, had one of the most minimalistic sleeping arrangements he had ever seen in an army outpost base. The beds were rectangular plywood boxes fortified with sandbags and sand mounds around them to help protect themselves from mortar shelling attacks. Truth be told, he’d been through worse. After all, he had spent many months sleeping on the harsh sands of the Arabian desert along with his team, during his first clandestine operation in the Middle East.

What had ultimately proved to be the biggest shock was the lack of any kind of bathroom sanitation. Most of the bases he had been part of had the porta loos which were regularly cleaned and maintained. All they had here at Zerok were a number of open steel drums which were submerged into the ground with a number of plywood sheets positioned over the top as makeshift roofs. When he’d started, James was confident that he wouldn’t survive two weeks in the camp. Yet he had not only lasted, but had also been promoted to Sgt. James Faulder.

The howling wind snapped James out of his nostalgic train of thoughts.He shivered slightly and felt goosebumps start to develop. Insurgent attacks during winter were far and few due to the unpredictable weather patterns and almost impassable terrain. Though most of the rebels had retreated to their safe haven within the mountainous caves, James and his team had been given intel from a reliable source that Haji Ahmad Zadrani, the senior chieftain of the Faqeeri insurgents had decided to make the nearby mountains his refuge for the winter. The reports also suggested that there was a chance that Zadrani, who was known to indulge ever so often in pleasures of the flesh, could be visiting an unmarked house, twenty miles, north-west of the Zerok base. Despite the heavy snowfall and increasingly worsening weather, their commander-in-chief, Major Rinter had been adamant that this was probably the best opportunity to capture Zadrani and potentially help neutralise the threat from the Faqeeri insurgents.

As James looked around in the darkness, he wondered if he would be able to see the signal from the scouts, who had been sent ahead to ensure that Zadrani was infact , in the house. The glowing orange-red blaze of a lit cigarette, a short distance ahead gave him the answer he needed. He checked the illuminated dial of his Casio watch, a gift from Jessica, his wife and partner of 7 years. He took a deep breath and tried to calm his nerves again. If this surprise ambush went well, it would officially be his last posting in this insurgent infested area of Afghanistan. And he just couldn’t wait to go back home and hold his family in his arms again.

Putting on his night vision goggles, Sgt. James Faulder assumed the role of the commanding officer. This was his trial by fire, and success would ensure a promotion to Captain. The target was within sights and there was a job to be done – quickly, efficiently and quietly. Silently hoping that his men had also put on their night-vision googles, he slowly raised his left hand to give the signal for his men to surround the two-storeyed house, where Zadrani was rumoured to be. He carefully looked around to make sure everyone was in place. And then he signalled for attack to commence.

*

The initial charge by James and his modest troop of soldiers had gone according to plan. They had successfully breached the Faqeeri’s first line of defence in no time. It had been rather easy. Too easy, in fact. But as they progressed through the compound and into the house, the insurgents had counter-attacked. James and one of his corporals, Wesley Thomas were the only two members of the team who managed to penetrate into the house and onto the second floor. Hearing a thud from one of the bedrooms, the two of them charged in to find Zadrani pointing a Desert Eagle handgun at them. Before either of them could react, Zadrani fired at them. Wesley, who was directly in the line of fire, didn’t stand a chance and James saw his eyes widen as his bullet ridden body slumped to the floor. As Zadrani quickly lined up for another shot, James leapt to his left in a bid to escape the bullet. But the bullet was quicker, and he screamed as it penetrated his right thigh and stayed there. But James was a soldier, and an adept one at that. Before the Faqeeri chieftain could take another shot, James quickly fired his Glock and the 9mm bullet found its mark between Zardani’s crooked eyes.

As he slowly got off the floor, James noticed a young girl of about ten, sitting in the corner of the room, clutching her knees towards her chest. She looked petrified and was quivering as if she’d seen a ghost. Something about her demeanour made James want to go over and comfort her. But her piercing, sea-green eyes stopped him. Beyond her shell-shocked exterior, James could sense some hostility. He hoped it was just shock. After all, he had just saved her from the monster Zadrani, who would have surely ripped her apart. As he started to walk towards her, the thundering sound of rapid gunfire erupted from the courtyard. He was going to have to make a move if he wanted to get away in one piece. Throwing one last look at the girl, who was still staring at him, he limped out of the room.

*

Through the high powered binoculars, James watched the sea-green eyed girl approach the outpost with a tall, scrawny, bearded Afghan man dressed in their traditional Khet Partug attire. They were still a mile or so away from the outpost perimeter. As he watched, the Afghan man smiled at the girl and gently nudged her ahead, as if asking her to continue the rest of the journey alone. “He must think that we are less likely to be hostile with a little girl” he mused, as he continued to watch the girl walk barefooted across the snow-filled rough terrain. James signalled to sentries, stationed high up on the make-shift stations to hold their fire. He didn’t anticipate any trouble from the girl since the man seemed to be content to watch from a distance.

Ever since he had seen her in that bedroom a few weeks ago, James had been curious about the young girl. She reminded him of his daughter Mary, and he wanted to ensure that she was safe. A week or so after the siege, James had enlisted the help of his Afghan colleagues in the outpost along with their interpreter to find out more details of the girl from some of the Faqeeri insurgents they had managed to capture alive. While the rebels had not been entirely forthcoming, the interpreter had managed to understand that she was safe and was part of the “harem” that Zadrani had under his command. But he had not been able to elicit any further information. Glad that she was safe, James had not pursued any more information about her.

This morning when one of his sentry soldier’s had told him about a young Afghan girl approaching the outpost with a man, he’d been stumped. His uneasiness had been put to rest the moment he had seen her face through the binoculars. Watching her walk the remaining distance to the outpost, James smiled. He missed his daughter and wife all the more, and this girl kept bringing back memories of his family. He was also curious as to what she could potentially want from a meeting with him. Whatever it was, he would try to help her out. After all, he was going back home in a week’s time.

The green-eyed girl walked up cautiously to Captain James Faulder, who observed her with a smile on his face. The shock that had been etched on her face that day, was replaced by a calmness, that James found quite endearing. Her eyes even had a little twinkle as she slowly adjusted her burqa and cleared her throat. Wanting to make her feel comfortable, James asked her the only thing he knew in pashto – staa num tsa dhe? – What’s your name?. She seemed surprised at the question and almost managed a weak smile in return. “I speak English little” she said, continuing to fidget with her burqa which covered her entire self except the face. James was impressed. “What’s your name ? Why did you want to see me?” he asked again, this time speaking very slowly, enunciating every word.

The girl looked around and then back at James. “ I gift for you” she said, inserting her hands into the right-side pocket of her burqa. James watched cautiously, as she took out a small square box which resembled a lunch container. He gestured to her to open it up. As she fiddled with the latch of the box, he asked her again “What’s your name?”.

Having successfully opened the latch, she handed the box over to him. As the booming explosion engulfed Combat Outpost Zerok in flames, the last thing Captain James Faulder heard was : “My name is Aziza. Aziza Ahmad Zadrani”

*

Combat Outpost Zerok is a real place and is often rated as one of the top five most dangerous locations in the Afghan province. The characters and settings are purely fictional though and are not based on any characters – living or dead – to the best of my knowledge.
The image of Combat Outpost Zerok is courtesy of Popularmilitary.com, a site I stumbled upon through Google Search.