The SEAL tossed a playful “So what’s your rank?” across the table — but her calm reply stunned the entire cafeteria and revealed a truth none of them saw coming
The noise level in the cafeteria dropped significantly as others nearby recognized the name and rank. Sarah continued, her tone level and authoritative.
«I have personally led four night operations behind enemy lines to plant surveillance devices and extract compromised human assets. During my most recent extraction, my team was ambushed five miles south of our target.»
She deliberately rolled up the sleeve of her blue shirt, exposing a jagged, angry scar that traced a path from her wrist to her elbow. «I took this two weeks ago. The Taliban fighter who gave it to me is no longer in a position to hurt anyone else.»
The lieutenant’s expression morphed from amusement to a complicated mix of shock, respect, and embarrassment. Before he could stammer out a reply, the double doors swung open and Commander Jackson, the SEAL team leader, strode in. His eyes scanned the room and locked onto Sarah instantly.
«Lieutenant Commander Glenn,» he said with a respectful nod. «I see you have already met my team.»
«We are just getting acquainted, Commander,» Sarah replied coolly, gathering her dossier.
«Good. Because in twelve hours, you are going to be accompanying us into the valley.»
A ripple of surprised murmurs moved through the SEALs. It was highly irregular for intelligence officers to leave the wire; they usually coordinated from the safety of the tactical operations center.
«Sir?» the lieutenant asked, confused.
«Lieutenant Commander Glenn speaks fluent Pashto and Dari,» Commander Jackson explained to the room. «Furthermore, she is the only person who has had direct, face-to-face contact with our informant. The mission parameters have shifted.»
Sarah felt her heart rate spike. This deviation was not in the original briefing. «Commander, may I have a word with you in private?»
Inside the command center, the high-resolution satellite imagery confirmed Sarah’s worst suspicions. The primary extraction route they had planned to use was burned. Thermal imaging feeds displayed at least thirty distinct heat signatures—Taliban fighters—digging into fortified positions along the southern ridge of the valley.
«They knew we were coming,» Sarah said, tapping the screen. «There has been a leak.»
Commander Jackson’s expression turned to granite. «The mission is still a go. That compound holds intelligence regarding three imminent attacks planned on American soil. We have to secure it.»
«With all due respect, sir, we need a different approach. The current plan is a suicide mission.»
«What do you propose, Lieutenant Commander?»
Sarah scrutinized the topographic map. «We insert here, under the cover of darkness.» She pointed to a sheer, almost vertical rock face on the northern approach. «It is unguarded because they believe it is impossible to climb.»
«It is impossible,» Jackson argued, looking at the elevation gradients.
«Not if you have free-climbed El Capitan,» Sarah countered without hesitation. «I have. Twice.»
The commander searched her face for any sign of bravado or hesitation. He found only cold calculation.
«And once we secure the intelligence?»
Sarah traced a thin line through a jagged ravine on the map. «We exit via Shepherd’s Pass. It is barely wide enough for a single person to squeeze through, but it opens up onto this plateau where an extraction chopper can touch down.»
«That is a hell of a risk, Glenn.»
«It is significantly less risky than walking into a prepared ambush, sir.»
Hours later, shrouded in the pitch black of the Afghan night, Sarah found herself clinging to the sheer rock face. Six SEALs climbed alongside her, including the lieutenant who had mocked her earlier. The crushing weight of her tactical gear and weapon turned every handhold into a grueling test of endurance.
