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“Nothing so far. His phone doesn’t even show up on the satellites, which we both know is a really bad sign.” Schneeman shrugged and added, “I hate to give you more bad news, but it is what it is.”
“Keep looking. We can’t keep losing people like this.” She was about to add the fact that it was embarrassing, but she knew it would sound self-serving. These were the people that she sent into harm’s way. Her number-one priority was to get them back alive.
“I’m not going to lie to you. A lot of our people are spooked. They think this has to be part of bigger plan by the Taliban to cripple us in-country.”
“They might be right.”
After staring at his shoes for a second, Schneeman said, “No one’s turned me down yet, but I almost had to make them draw straws to see who would go down to J-bad to search for Hubbard.”
Kennedy did not take this information well. This was another reason she needed Rapp. His unabashed, fearless attitude was contagious. The last thing she needed right now were operatives who were afraid to leave the base. If this problem got worse she would have to lean on JSOC for muscle. The Special Operators shared Rapp’s bold manner.
Schneeman motioned toward a doorway next to the glass-walled offices. “Can I get you a cup of coffee?”
“Tea, please.”
Schneeman led and she followed. “I apologize, but things are pretty hectic around here. Including the nine people in your entourage, we have fifty-six additional people who’ve been brought in over the last two days.”
“You need to push them out. How many people did you send down to J-bad?”
“I’m keeping all the analysts up here. I sent six operatives and twelve SOG guys. I told them I don’t want anyone going anywhere by themselves. I assigned two SOG guys to each operative and they need to check in every hour.”
They entered a small break room with a microwave and refrigerator. Schneeman started rifling through cupboards until he found a box of assorted teas. He handed the
box to Kennedy and then poured himself a cup of coffee and Kennedy a cup of hot water.
“When was the last time this room was swept?” Kennedy asked.
Schneeman knew Kennedy’s expectations. “Less than thirty minutes ago.”
She gave a nod of satisfaction and asked, “How closely was Rick working with Darren?”
“The short answer is, I’m not sure. I mean, I’m out here most of the time. Darren runs the show from Kabul. Don’t ask me how, but I think he got the sense that I’m his replacement. He’s been a real prick the last five months. The good news is I’m lucky if I see him once a month. The bad news is he hasn’t been managing his people. I have no idea what he and Rick were up to.”
Kennedy gave him a small, disbelieving frown. Their business was to collect facts, but intermixed with the facts was often a lot of gossip and innuendo. “Brian, you can’t honestly expect me to believe that you haven’t heard a thing.”
“The guy’s my immediate boss, Irene, and he’s a real prick. Not to you, of course, but to most of the people who work for him, he’s insufferable.”
“I understand there’s a chain of command, but how do you people expect me to make good decisions when you keep me in the dark on this stuff?” Rapp had warned her that he thought Sickles was in over his head, but no one else had bothered to make so much as a peep.
“I don’t know what to say. We’re thousands of miles away. We deal with what we have as best we can. These are all decisions that get made way above my pay grade.”
Kennedy wasn’t going to push the point. Schneeman was right, of course. Going behind your boss’s back to say that he was incompetent without any real proof was a great way to torpedo your career. “This stays between the two of us. Darren is not going to be the station chief much longer.”
Schneeman wasn’t totally surprised. “How much longer?”
“I’m not sure he’s going to make it to the end of the day, but I need to get a few things out of him first, so we’ll have to see.”
Schneeman almost asked who was going to be his replacement, but thought it would sound too self-serving. Instead, he moved back to the earlier topic. “There were a few things that didn’t exactly pass the smell test.”
Kennedy folded her arms across her chest and asked, “Like what?”
“Over the last few months they seemed to really kick this program into high gear. They were handing out bags of cash to every asshole in the country. Most of them guys we’ve spent the last ten years trying to kill.” Schneeman shook his head in disgust and added in an acid tone, “Fucking Abdul Rauf Qayem . . . I told Darren I’d put a bullet in the guy’s head, and he could pocket the cash. Do you know what Darren did?”
“No,” Kennedy responded.
“He freaked out, and not about the bullet in the head. He gave me this big lecture about the inspector general’s office and how they were all over him. How they had controls in place to make sure every penny was accounted for.”
Kennedy was surprised, as this was all news to her. “The inspector general?”
