TA - Nine Mile Walk

The airport would still be in American hands, Brett knew. It was located just north of the city, about nine miles from the center of Kabul. If there was any place left in Afghanistan that would remain in American hands, that would be it. The American military essentially owned the northern portion of the airport. If he could make it that far.

Brett struggled to his feet.

He knew he’d have to stay quiet—with the Taliban presumably running the place, there would be a bounty out for US soldiers—but every time he brushed his shattered arm against a wall, swollen to twice its normal size, he gasped in pain. Then, reluctantly, he took the magazine out of the gun and bit down on it. Hard. Better to crack a few teeth than to be featured on CNN being dragged through the streets. And the empty gun wouldn’t be of any use anyway.

The airport, he told himself.

The airport.

He’d seen the footage of the last helicopter taking off from Saigon, and he’d always groaned in horror at seeing it—it meant the end of a country. Now all he could think about was how the last soldier in that last helicopter must have felt.

Relieved.


By the time Brett spotted the airport, he couldn’t feel his legs. The airfield was exposed, with plains surrounding it on every side to avoid the potential for snipers or antiaircraft attacks on the runways. Thank God, Brett thought, it’s a dark night.

He stumbled forward toward the gates as he reached the empty field. The gates grew larger with every agonizing step.

Then, miraculously, the gate was before him. Brett grinned as it materialized in the darkness.

- True Allegiance, Part 1: Brett (2)