Excerpt

Transcription

Excerpt
W R I T T E N BY A F O R M E R U . S . I N T E L L I G E N C E O F F I C E R
This book is a work of fiction. Names, characters, businesses, organizations, places, events,
and incidents are either a product of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously. Any
resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, events, or locales is entirely coincidental.
All statements of fact, opinion, or analysis expressed are those of the author and do not reflect
the official positions or views of the CIA or any other U.S. Government agency. Nothing in
the contents should be construed as asserting or implying U.S. Government authentication of
information or Agency endorsement of the author’s views. This material has been reviewed by
the CIA to prevent the disclosure of classified information.
Copyright of The Maverick Program logo, as shown on the cover as well as
throughout the book, is owned by Drew Berquist.
Published by Greenleaf Book Group Press
Austin, Texas
www.gbgpress.com
Copyright ©2011 Drew Berquist
All rights reserved.
No part of this book may be reproduced, stored in a retrieval system, or transmitted by
any means, electronic, mechanical, photocopying, recording, or otherwise, without written
permission from the publisher.
Distributed by Greenleaf Book Group LLC
For ordering information or special discounts for bulk purchases, please contact Greenleaf Book
Group LLC at PO Box 91869, Austin, TX 78709, 512.891.6100.
Design and composition by Greenleaf Book Group LLC and
Publications Development Company
Cover design by Greenleaf Book Group LLC
Publisher’s Cataloging-In-Publication Data
(Prepared by The Donohue Group, Inc.)
Berquist, Drew.
The maverick experiment / written by Drew Berquist.—1st ed.
p. ; cm.
ISBN: 978-1-60832-090-5
1. Undercover operations—Afghanistan—Fiction. 2. Taliban—Fiction. 3. Afghan War,
2001—Fiction. 4. Suspense fiction. I. Title.
PS3602 .E77 2011
813/.6
2010938277
Part of the Tree Neutral® program, which offsets the number of trees consumed in
the production and printing of this book by taking proactive steps, such as planting
trees in direct proportion to the number of trees used: www.treeneutral.com
Printed in the United States of America on acid-free paper
10 ​11 ​12 ​13 ​14 ​15 ​ ​10 ​9 ​8 ​7 ​6 ​5 ​4 ​3 ​2 ​1
First Edition
In Remembrance
This book is dedicated to my friends and colleagues—patriots
all—who were killed on the front lines on December 30, 2009,
at FOB Chapman in Khost, Afghanistan. You will never be
forgotten.
///Top Secret/Eyes Only///
™
///Top Secret/Eyes Only///
pRologue
Wednesday, October 21
Undisclosed Location, Pakistan
2132 Hrs
The dull hum of the Agency’s Predator drone filled the starspattered sky as it stalked its target. The distinct sound created
a sensation the villagers and Kuchi tribesmen alike had grown
more and more familiar with in recent years: fear.
CIA officials in the region, responding to sensitive
human intelligence reporting (HUMINT), had launched the
drone in an attempt to eliminate one of their primary targets,
Malawi Rafiq. The senior Talib, based in Pakistan, had been
responsible for hundreds of deaths in Afghanistan and had
rapidly ascended on the Agency’s target deck. Months prior,
Rafiq had ordered a suicide attack on westerners in Paktika
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Drew Berquist
Province. The bomber had detonated next to an armored Land
Cruiser, causing the deaths of two Americans.
Rafiq and the Taliban struck gold when news reports
indicated two Agency officers were operating the vehicle. The
fallout had been catastrophic. The image of one of the officers,
a young father of three, had been splashed all over the media
following the incident, providing the ultimate trophy for the
Taliban and al-Qaeda. Killing American soldiers had become
easy for Rafiq and his grunts, but killing CIA personnel was
an accomplishment that had always eluded him. The fact
that the suicide bomber had been clueless about who was
operating the vehicle was irrelevant; Rafiq knew the news
ticker would reflect the unadorned fact: two CIA officers killed
in Afghanistan by the Taliban. Such information would greatly
aid the Taliban’s ongoing psychological operations, which
focused on creating more confidence among its soldiers and
adding to the American public’s waning support for the war
in Afghanistan.
Tonight, Rafiq was reported to have been visiting a
primary safe house in Pakistan used to facilitate safe passage
for Taliban and al-Qaeda fighters into Afghanistan. However,
like most upper-echelon terrorists operating in the region,
Rafiq knew not to stay too long in one location or the result
could be a Hellfire missile tapping him on the shoulder.
A squawk came over the comms unit in the dark viewing
room, located at CIA headquarters in Langley, Virginia:
“Calypso, Calypso this is Joker-One.”
Doug Lloyd, chief of the agency’s Counter Terrorist Center,
stood and watched from the rear of the room as his aide, Ryan
Vance, and Carlisle Davenport, a senior-level consultant for
The Maverick Experiment
5
counterterrorism, scrambled anxiously to listen in on the backand-forth between the drone pilots and Islamabad station.
“Joker-One this is Calypso, go ahead,” responded the
communications officer from Islamabad.
“Calypso, we have identified the target vehicle, requesting
authorization to fire.”
“Copy, Joker-One. Please indicate what we are seeing
here,” returned Islamabad as anxious sets of eyes around
the world watched their live feed of the drone homing in
on its target.
“Roger Calypso. Reporting indicates the target left the grid
coordinates provided to us in a dark-colored Toyota Corolla.
We have identified the vehicle on your screen as the target.”
“How certain are we?”
The drone pilot, seated at a control center in a remote CIA
facility, swiveled his chair around to face his partner. Shielding
his mic with his palm, he said quietly, “I hate these guys. Do
they want me to push the damn button or not?” Uncovering
his mic, he continued, “Calypso, Joker-One. We are certain.
The target vehicle will be in the village ahead in approx three
minutes, over.”
Lloyd pushed Davenport and Vance out of the way as he
rushed forward and pressed the “talk” button on the comms
unit. “Joker-One standby for further instructions.”
“Doug, what are you doing?” exclaimed Davenport.
Lloyd turned to Davenport with a sick expression. “We
can’t fire on a village!”
Carlisle fought his urge to punch his boss in the face and
gathered himself to calmly reason with his superior. “Doug,
people die in war, and we aren’t firing on a village if we fire
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Drew Berquist
now. They indicated this is our target, but we need to provide
authorization this second.” He turned to Vance. “Ryan get on
the horn and give them the green light, now!”
“Sir?” said the nervous aide to his boss as he moved his
hand closer to the comms unit, preparing to respond.
“Just hold on, Ryan!” Lloyd shouted. “Carlisle, I won’t
survive this if any civilians are killed. You know that.”
“But Rafiq will if we don’t fire. Dammit Doug, authorize
Islamabad to give the order! He’ll be done before the car
reaches any possible collateral damage. I promise.”
Lloyd sat down, shaking his head as he pondered how
this would affect his career. The Agency had zero will to pull
the trigger on any operation that could cause further political
problems for the United States. If even one innocent civilian
was killed, it meant big problems. Lloyd had his eye on an
upcoming promotion, and possibly even a run for Congress,
someday. This didn’t help the situation.
The radio screeched. “Calypso, Joker-One. Do we have
authorization to fire?”
“Stand by Joker-One,” responded a now-frustrated
Calypso.
Carlisle looked at Lloyd in astonishment and disgust as
he watched politics once again rear its ugly head and get the
better of a CIA officer he had formerly respected.
The secure phone line broke the silence, startling Lloyd.
Vance quickly picked up.
“Go ahead.”
“Give me the authorizing officer,” said an angry-sounding
official from Islamabad.
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Vance turned to Lloyd, covering the mouthpiece. “It’s for
you sir. Islamabad.”
Lloyd grabbed the phone as he stared at the screen,
watching Rafiq’s vehicle speed toward the village. “Yes.”
“Sir, we need to do this. We have Rafiq and there is no
telling when we will get another shot at him. Do we have
authorization?”
Lloyd placed the phone on his shoulder as he stared for
the last time at a situation that could make him a hero or
villain. He returned the phone to his ear. “No. Stand down.”
Lloyd hung up the phone. “Kill the feed,” he said to Vance. He
walked away without looking at anyone.