CHAPTER 6
BARADAR
“God curse this hateful country and all its people,” Hasan Baradar swore under his breath. He looked around momentarily as his fighters – the ones left after they’d stumbled into a gunfight with a pair of American police officers and several townspeople – began piling back into their two SUVs, which now looked much the worse for wear after their impromptu gun battle.
This town – called “Lucketts,” a name the commander was sure blasphemed Allah in some way and which he now despised even more than he despised America, a godless land of idolators and infidels – was nothing more than a waypoint along the path to something much more important, which was still out there and no doubt alerted to their presence by now.
The thought of potential failure in this regard threatened
