Page 1 of Broken Oath

1

JAMES “ROOK” CALLAHAN

The mountains of eastern Afghanistan stretched across the darkness beneath the helicopter.

Jagged.

Endless.

Unforgiving.

Moonlight painted silver edges along the ridgelines while the valleys disappeared into blackness below.

In this part of the world, explosions were almost as common as thunderstorms.

Missiles crossed borders.

Militias fought over territory.

Insurgents launched rockets from hidden mountain camps.

Villages slept through distant gunfire because they had heard it their entire lives.

War lived here.

It always had.

It probably always would.

But tonight wasn’t supposed to be a war.

Tonight was supposed to be simple.

A snatch-and-grab.

In.

Out.

Home before sunrise.

The target was a bomb maker named Farid Rahman.

For months, intelligence agencies had tracked him through Afghanistan and Pakistan. He wasn’t famous. He wasn’t a warlord. Most people had never heard his name.

But soldiers had died because of the weapons he built.

Roadside bombs.

Remote detonators.

Guidance systems.

Anything that could kill from a distance.

Three weeks ago, satellite surveillance had located Rahman inside a small compound tucked deep within the mountains near the Afghanistan-Pakistan border.

The mission couldn’t have been more straightforward.