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going to react to this new outside threat from their ancient enemy, the Hill Tribe. They’re farmers and all they want to do is be left alone to go about their daily business. Unfortunately, there’s a war going on around them and we don’t know how they’ll react to the insertion of Taliban carrying these supplies through their valley. We’re going to fly in at 0600. It’s an eight-hour day op, so pack your kit accordingly with first and second line gear.”

      Hampton looked up and pointed to Bay. “Doc, I’m wanting to use your linguistic and medical abilities out there tomorrow. Are you up for that?”

      “Yes, Chief, I am.”

      “Good. The rest of the team is going to look around. Watch for IEDs, always. Just see how the farmers act or react to our presence. We’ll also go out in teams of four to search for new trails across the area around the first village. This would tell us the shift has been made and the supplies are coming through that valley. There’s a difference between a goat path and one that’s being used to haul supplies. If you find a path, verify it with the kids herding the goats. Find out if they use it for the animals or not. If they don’t, then put GPS coordinates on it and send it back here to the LT. When SEALs, Rangers or Special Forces have gone through the valley before these villages have offered no resistance. Maybe it’s different now. We have to find out. Questions?”

      Bay raised her hand.

      “Doc?”

      “Chief, if I’m going in as a medic, you want me to set up a clinic?”

      “I do. Gabe? If you don’t mind, I want you shadowing her. We don’t have a familiarity with these Afghans in this shifting of routes with the Taliban. We’re trying to establish some nation building with them, some goodwill so they’ll trust us.”

      “I’ll have her back,” Gabe promised.

      “Babysitter,” Hammer muttered.

      “It’s better than babysitting you guys as a sniper on this op,” Gabe challenged him. On many occasions, Gabe, because he was a sniper, would be ordered to high ground to have a look-down, shoot-down capability as his squad went through a village, searching for Taliban. His job was to spot a Taliban shooter and take him out before he could kill one of the SEALs. He saw the hurt in Bay’s eyes over Hammer’s comment. She was too sensitive to the harassment that SEALs gave one another. He’d far rather be with Bay than sitting up on a ridge if he didn’t have to.

      Snorting, Hammer shook his head and said nothing further.

      “Chief?” Bay asked. “I’m treating women and children only? My experience over in Iraq is the men won’t come to be helped because I’m a woman. Their Islamic laws decree the men can’t be seen except by a male doctor.”

      Shrugging, Hampton murmured, “Well, we’ll test that one out, won’t we? We’ll find the head elder of the village and depending on how bad those folks need medical help, you may find everyone lining up, no matter what their gender. You okay with that if it occurs?”

      “Sure, no problem. I just need to know what to pack in my ruck, because male medical issues differ from women and children issues, is all.”

      Hampton nodded. “Plan for both genders, Doc. Better to be prepared than not. The Pashtuns sometimes bend rules when it suits them. If a guy has gone septic, he wants a shot of antibiotics to live. Infection is the number-one killer in this country because there are no medical services available. They die from infection, unable to obtain antibiotics, so you may well see men standing in your line as a result.”

      “Got it,” Bay said, writing down a list of drugs to take on her small notepad. “What about food for the people?”

      “This is an initial op to check them out,” Hampton said. “We’re going in to make first contact. Let’s see what they need. Sometimes its medicine. Sometimes food. Just depends. If you can get the wives to talk, diplomatically ask them about Taliban activity through their area. See if it’s happening. Maybe we’ll get lucky and some woman will tell you the routes the Taliban is taking. That would be actionable intel.”

      Bay smiled a little. “I’m very good at getting the women to talk, Chief. Don’t worry, I know how to mix business with medicine. If I get anything, you’ll be the first to know. Since Gabe will be nearby, I can tell him if it’s something urgent and he can pass the intel on to you.”

      “I like it,” Hampton said, grinning. “You’ll be a key player out there tomorrow, Doc.”

      “I’ll do my best to be of help, Chief.” Bay was relieved that Hammer said nothing further. With Gabe at her side, Bay felt confident that she could wrest intel from the women. They always liked talking with her in their native Pashto, were delighted she was a woman in this man’s ongoing war. And they knew she could help their sick and ailing children. A trust was built quickly between women, no question.

      After the planning was over, the assignments handed out by the chief, everyone left. Bay had finished up her notes, Gabe sitting nearby, when the chief ambled over to them.

      “Doc?”

      She looked up. “Yes, Chief?”

      Hampton rested his hands on his hips. “This village is pretty safe from what our ground assets have been telling us. None of the other black ops groups moving through the area has had trouble with them. I really want you to try and ingrain yourself into these villages as we check out each one of them. Build trust with them. I want to find those Taliban rat lines through their valley ASAP.” Rat lines were military slang for Taliban safe houses, villagers who were sympathetic to them or a series of new trails being created into an area by the enemy. Frowning, he added, “Now, we have no idea if this has happened yet or not. But when we go in, you know the rest of the story. You might ask the women if they’ve been feeding more strangers lately or not.”

      “Pashtun code says you feed those who ask for food,” Bay said. “Okay, good to know. I’ll see what I can do.” If they were feeding more strangers, Bay knew it meant potential Taliban were coming through the area.

      Hampton smiled a little and said, “How you getting along wearing our gear?”

      Bay felt heat come to her face. “To tell you the truth, Chief, I had a hissy fit about wearing a SIG. That’s a special pistol that SEALs have earned the hard way. I haven’t earned it.”

      Hampton pursed his lips. “I understand how you feel, Doc, but this order came directly from the LT. So, if anyone gives you any grief, you come to me. It’s important you look like one of us. We can bring you up to speed on how to handle the weapons.”

      “I will, Chief.”

      “Gabe?” Hampton said, shifting his gaze to the SEAL. “I want you to take Doc out on the shooting range sometime this afternoon and get her acquainted with the SIG. She’s got to know how to use it and clean it. Plus, do some rattle battle with her.”

      Gabe nodded. “Already figured that out. And the Win Mag?”

      “Leave it here. This is a day op. We hopefully won’t need it. But work in a rotation daily until she’s good friends with that rifle. Have her shooting at twelve hundred to fourteen hundred yards with accuracy.” Hampton looked at Bay. “You okay with filling in as a sniper trainee, Doc?”

      Bay shrugged. “I’ll give it a whirl, Chief. But I’m not a trained sniper.”

      “Gabe is one of the best in the sniping business. He’ll teach you the basics.” His gaze narrowed. “You okay with being a sniper?”

      Bay nodded. “Chief, I was gunning and running with Special Forces over at the Syrian-Iraq border. I know I’m a medic and I’m charged with saving lives. But when my team is being shot at with the intent to kill them, I don’t mind lifting my M-4 and taking out the bad guys.”

      “Okay, just checking,” Hampton said. “You should know our LT talked to your commanding officer, Captain Morton, over in Iraq. The captain had good things to say about you. It looks like you’re

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