Page 86 of Keeping a Warrior

Rhys watched him go, grateful as hell he didn’t have the weight of responsibility currently resting on the young lieutenant’s shoulders. Not only was he tasked with carrying out the missions and directives of the higher-ups, but also for keeping his men in line.

The previous platoon’s leadership obviously hadn’t had any control. Boredom and aggression had taken root, and toxic personalities allowed to flourish. In a country as fragile as Afghanistan, that’d been a recipe for disaster.

Rhys winced, wondering how many village men had turned to the insurgency because of it.

Because an insurgency doesn’t have to be defeated; all it has to do is survive.

“Hey, Halloran!”

He was jolted out of his musings by Devon waving at him.

“Come fly a kite!”

Kite? What?

Competitive kite flying was a popular sport in Afghanistan, so he walked over to watch. “What’s up?”

She pointed at a giggling group of preteen boys. “They’re challenging you to a competition. What do you say?”

“Me? I don’t know anything about flying a kite!”

“They’ll help you. Just go with it.” Devon’s eyes were shining. “C’mon, Rhys.”

He hesitated a moment, then nodded, and instantly he was swarmed by chattering boys brandishing colorful, tissue-paper kites.

“How about boys versus girls?” he called to Devon over their heads. “Winner gets a kiss.”

“Girls aren’t allowed to fly kites, only boys,” she called back, then winked. “But I’ll give you a kiss anyway.”

Rhys couldn’t understand what the boys were saying, so he just stood there smiling and nodding, until Sayed took pity on him and wandered over. He was a short, wiry man with weathered brown skin and a full, bushy beard.

“You’re not just going to fly the kite,” he said to Rhys, “you’re going to fight with it.” Sayed indicated the thin wires wrapped around spools that the boys held. “The wire is coated with a special paste that has ground glass in it.”

“Shit.” Rhys stared at him. “How do you win?”

“Cut the other guy’s wire.” With a grin, Sayed said, “Just watch this first one.”

The boys licked their fingers and held them up to gauge the wind, and soon two kites were airborne. They dipped and swooped with breathtaking skill, and Rhys cheered every time they clashed.

It wasn’t long before the commotion brought some of the SEALs and Marines over to watch, and then they were all getting kite fighting lessons. The boys wore delighted grins that stretched from ear to ear as the Americans gamely tried to duplicate their skill, and they patiently jogged to retrieve crashed kites over and over.

At last Matt managed to sever the wire of Shane’s kite and it was whisked up into the sky by the wind. “Ha!” he crowed, pumping his fist, caught up in the excitement. Shane just rolled his eyes.

It was funny, Rhys thought, how much he enjoyed watching the two of them together. They were stubborn, and fiercely competitive, traits that all SEALs had in spades. Neither one of them wore their hearts on their sleeves, yet there was a palpable current of affection that crackled between them during those rare times they were quiet enough to let it show.

Most importantly, they were professional, focused, their relationship—of necessity—secondary to the needs of the team. Rhys trusted them both with his life.

“Azadi! Azadi!”

“That means free-flying kite,” Sayed explained, laughing as the boys took off running after it. “Chasing an azadi is almost as much fun as fighting with them, and it’s an honor if you catch one!”

The confines of the outpost cut the fun short as the azadi soared over the Hesco barriers and fluttered away, but the boys were all smiles when they returned to start the next battle.

When the last azadi was whisked away on the wind, a couple of the SEALs ran to get some cases of MREs, which they handed out to the eager children, along with some bottles of sports drink. Rhys bristled when a few of the boys took the girls’ away, snatching them right out of their hands.

“What the hell?”

Devon approached him, still wearing the soft scarf covering her hair. “In some Pashtun families, boys are prized more than girls,” she explained matter-of-factly. “This is probably how it is in their homes; they get to eat first and as much as they want before the girls get to eat.”