Chapter 2: Bridges burned

Steve's last mission for the military was fairly routine — or as routine as his assignments ever were.

After his graduation from A&M, Steve immediately enlisted in the US Navy. His skill with languages and his intelligence, along with his obvious physical prowess, didn't escape the notice of various intelligence-gathering agencies. Before long, the young lieutenant junior grade was given a new assignment — and a new rank and identity.

Officially, Lt. (j.g) Stephen Booth had duty assignments spanning the globe and anyone who saw his file had to believe he was an up-and-comer in the field of computerized warfare.

But strangely, no one at any of Steve's duty stations could remember meeting the quiet young man — although a few glowing reports in his personnel file would suggest otherwise.

No one at any station Steve visited "unofficially" could remember meeting him either, but that was by design. By his third year out of college, Steve was unofficially Major Eric Cardwell, a member of a quasi-secretive commando group comprised of members of each service branch.

At the time, most of his duty was in and around the Balkans. Steve spent his 26th birthday bedded down on the outskirts of Sarajevo preparing to infiltrate a hostile camp of Serbian extremists.

It wasn't the last birthday Steve had spent in the field. By the time he hit his 30th birthday, he was Colonel Eric Cardwell and he stood as the ranking member of what was known, unofficially of course, as Omicron-10.

By the time Steve returned to town, without a job, he'd spent the better part of four years in Southwest and Central Asia trying to track down terrorist cells. As with other aspects of the Iraqi War, Steve's group had no clearly defined mission.

His team — which included seven others, each with the rank of major to prevent upward mobility — was bounced around from Pakistan, to Iraq, to Afghanistan, to Turkey, to Greece, and to Iran. Rather than focus on the big picture — finding and capturing terrorist leaders — Omicron-10 was assigned from place to place almost on a whim.

Steve had studied enough history to realize an ill-defined goal is what transpires when strategy is decided by politicians instead of soldiers. America had failed to learn that lesson in Vietnam and it was paying the price in Iraq.

Although it was frustrating to Steve and his team, it was more exasperating for his commanding officer, General Beau Whitley. Gen. Whitley was an old-school soldier. He believed you made a plan and stuck with it until you couldn't stick with it any longer or you won. But that's not the way wars are fought in the 21st century. Now wars are decided on public opinion and television sound bites.

So when Col. Cardwell was called before a Congressional sub-committee that alleged atrocities during an infiltration of a terrorist training camp in Afghanistan, Gen. Whitley could only sit by helplessly and hope for the best.

What he got was the worst.

Steve, as Col. Cardwell, was already pissed off about having to leave his team behind to come to Washington, DC. He was even more pissed off when he read of the allegations against his squad in a newspaper — and when he saw the newspaper had already convicted his people in print.

So he did what any good soldier would do when facing a tough, unwinnable fight — he compiled ammunition against the enemy to take down as many of them as he could before falling.

Steve used every resource he could think of to gather as much information on the members of the sub-committee as he could find and he came to Capitol Hill armed to the teeth — as it were.

Eschewing an attorney, Steve elected instead to deal head on with the members of the House of Representatives. Anyone who knew Steve would have realized what was going to happen. Gen. Whitley knew but could do little to stop it.

Fittingly, only one member of the House Select Sub-Committee for Foreign Intelligence even had the requisite security clearance to know that Steve's team existed. The other 10 members were absolutely clueless — and not just about Omicron-10, it seemed.

The morning got off to a raucous start when Steve steadfastly refused to answer questions, citing national security issues. When an elderly representative from the great state of Massachusetts began posturing, Steve wasted no time in putting him in his place.

"Sir," Steve said evenly, "the reasons I refuse to divulge information in front of this august body are numerous. Suffice it to say that you want answers to questions you don't understand. If you understood the question, you wouldn't need me to supply the answer.

"In fact, only the junior representative from Arizona has the requisite security clearance to even know my name, let alone anything about who I am and what I do. Have you noticed the amount of information in my personnel file that's been redacted? There are reasons for that, sir. The primary reason is simply you do not need the information and no one trusts you enough to have the information if you did need it."

The elderly congressman almost had a coronary where he sat. He sputtered and stammered for a moment before regaining his composure slightly.

"You will answer my questions or we will cite you for contempt," the "Gentleman from Massachusetts" blustered.

Steve aimed a tight smile at the slight woman on his far left, the junior congresswoman from Arizona he mentioned earlier.

"With all due respect, sir," Steve said. "My contempt for this body is well known and documented. But, since we are on the record here, let me put forth a couple of reasons why you are denied the information you so valiantly seek."

For the next 13 minutes Steve reeled off a litany of abuses and scandals ranging from illegal campaign contributions to investments in foreign companies by family members and friends of the group he faced. One by one he knocked the representatives down a peg or 12 with his scathing indictments of their personal character and private dealings. He saved the gentleman from Massachusetts for last, despite the man's attempts to gavel him into silence.

"And you sir," Steve said over the pounding gavel, "have a son who owns 12 percent of a company known to produce equipment and provide financial support to the very people we are trying to defeat. It should come as no surprise that the company in question was one of your biggest campaign contributors until finance reform was put in place two years ago.

"Why in God's name would you think we'd provide information that you could use to bolster your coffers come election time? I will answer any and all questions, in private, that Ms. Weller might have. But I will not give the people in this room the ability to damage this country further. Your arrogance and ignorance have already caused enough harm to the land I was willing to die for."

Roberta Weller was far from an ally. In fact, she was one of the die-hards who pushed for congressional hearings on what she termed "the slaughter of innocents in Afghanistan." But she was cleared to learn almost everything he knew and he promised Gen. Whitley he'd do his best to convince the group that Omicron-10 was above reproach.

The meeting with Ms. Weller didn't start off on a positive note. She was embarrassed about the details that Steve had provided on her colleagues and angry that the arrogant young man refused to answer the questions in open session that the sub-committee had provided. To her, Steve's actions were just another example of the military trying to sanitize its actions through secrecy.

"I'm not here to be castigated by you," Steve told her quickly when the representative started to berate him for his remarks. "I have a display to show you, then I will answer any question you might have as fully as possible. Before I begin, I will need you to sign this non-disclosure form. I will remind you that you will be committing a felony if you discuss this information with anyone — especially those in the room we've just left.

"If you do not agree to sign this form, our meeting is over."

Ms. Weller thought briefly before putting pen to paper and Steve began his course on "Terrorism 101."

"Ms. Weller, what I'm about to show you was obtained by one of our high-density satellites," Steve began. "I'd like for you to pay close attention to the young girl in black."

Ms. Weller watched intently as a girl approached a group of US soldiers holding a flower in her outstretched hand. As she got within five feet of the servicemen an explosion ripped through the marketplace where the soldiers had been standing moments before. By the time the dust settled, the satellite was out of position to continue surveillance.

"Twenty-three U.S. soldiers were killed," Steve said. "More than dozen civilians were killed and almost 100 were wounded in that attack."

Ms. Weller blanched noticeably.

"I don't see what this has to do with the killing of innocent women and children in a village in Afghanistan," she huffed. "I'm shocked by this but it doesn't deter me from finding answers."

Steve nodded slightly as the scene shifted to another view.

"This is the 'village' of which you spoke," Steve said evenly. "Just for a moment, I want you to watch the young girl in dark blue. What is she doing?"

Roberta Weller watched as a girl approached a group of people with her hand outstretched. It was eerily similar to the scene Steve had shown her moments before.

"OK, she's doing the same thing," Weller said. "What's your point?"

"This time, instead of focusing on her left hand, I want you to watch her right," Steve said.

As the little girl approached the group, her right hand seemed to disappear inside her outer garment.

"Now, back to the original scene," Steve said. "Again, watch the little girl's right hand this time."

A few feet from the servicemen, the little girl's hand also was gone from sight.

"The blast you saw was caused when this 'innocent' girl detonated an explosive device that was attached to her waist," Steve said almost in a monotone. "I've slowed down the footage so you can see for yourself. Here is the same image slowed down to less than one frame per second."

Even a die-hard liberal such as Roberta Weller couldn't argue with the image on the scene.

"What you have dubbed 'the slaughter of the innocents' is inherently incorrect," Steve stated. "What you saw in the second scene is not, nor was it ever, a peaceful village. It serves one purpose, and one purpose only — to train men, women and children to kill Americans. They prey upon our weakness for the helpless among us and they use the very people Americans are predisposed to assist as human time bombs.

"Simply put, there were no innocents in that camp. We entered that region on what is called a 'zero-sum mission.' Essentially that means that every person we meet is considered a hostile target and is eliminated. That is necessary for the safety of my team on site, as well as for the other men and women serving in harm's way.

"If any of those creatures were allowed to live they would not have rested until they killed as many Americans as they possibly could. While I stand here justifying my actions to a group of people who've never respected the military, let alone served in it, five more of these camps — that we know of — are churning out more terrorists. The death of every US soldier who is killed by these animals is on your head and the heads of your compatriots in this building.

"While you argue over silly shit, my people are fighting and dying. I am the best person to lead the group whose job it is to find and eliminate those pieces of garbage and yet, here I stand wasting my time with the likes of you.

"Do you have any questions, Ms. Weller?"

Roberta Weller was as pale as a woman of her skin tone could be as she exited the meeting with the youngish colonel. She immediately made a motion to adjourn the hearings and refused resolutely to discuss anything she'd seen or heard during the briefing.

She was the lone dissenting vote a month later when the US House of Representatives decided to slice funding for covert operations by three-quarters. Her only comment to those who voted yes, "You people have no idea how many good Americans you've just killed."

Six weeks later, Col. Eric Cardwell was retired from active duty and Lieutenant Commander Stephen Booth was passed over for scheduled promotion, all but ending his career in the armed forces.

He knew his overreaction had cost the exact same number of lives as the politicians' vote. Unlike the members of Congress, Steve recognized the role his words had played and regretted it through to his soul.

The trip across the creek brought back more memories for Steve as he headed to Allie's house for dinner. He remembered the afternoon when Janey had tried to ride her bicycle through a narrow spot only to be thrown over the handlebars. Steve wondered if the cute little scar she had on her chin had faded with time.