Shindand Air Base
Herat Province, Hari Rud Valley,
Afghanistan
January 23rd
1030 Hours
As the Hercules C-130H fixed-wing touches down, Steve jerks awake, momentarily unaware of his whereabouts. His tiredness has finally caught up with him and the uncomfortable position he's half-sat, half-lied in, for the past 15 hours and change, hasn't helped any. He reaches in the jacket pocket of his uniform and fishes out his rejection meds, downing them with a slug of water, sighing at remembering that this will be a habit he must maintain for the rest of his natural life. Straightening up in the uncomfortable folding chair, propped against the side of the belly of the plane, Steve thinks back to the reason he's currently about to land in a US military base in Herat province. Against the advice of his colleagues at 5-0, he had asked the Governor for some days' leave. He needed to see this case through, and the terrorist they had identified as the mastermind behind the bombings in several strategic spots on the island had fled to his native land, so Steve simply couldn't bring himself to let the man disappear, without chasing after him. After having the Governor's office liaise with the Navy, and being granted approval, by his Navy superiors, for this mission, under the guise of a Reserve Drill, he had set for Afghanistan immediately after securing a place on a military transport plane out of O'ahu.
A few minutes later, Steve gathers his rucksack and walks out of the plane behind his Navy and Army colleagues, the freezing cold immediately attacking his senses like a punch to the face, arid, sudden and harsh. He takes a few seconds to contemplate the sheer size of the base, barracks rising from the desert sand like a mirage, and can't help but be impressed. He's due to report to Captain Hamilton, whom he doesn't know, on arrival, and he really hopes that all the formalities he must go through will be quick and painless, as he has a job to do and the man he is chasing not only has several hours' lead on him, but also knows the area like the back of his hand.
An Ensign stands at attention at the end of the runway, near a building that Steve assumes to be the terminal and control tower rolled into one, looking attentively at the personnel passing through, perhaps in hopes of spotting the one he's been charged with locating. He heads over and greets him as per military protocol and both men head out of the building and onto a jeep waiting nearby, the busy and bustling base just sprawled out in front of them. A few minutes later, they arrive at the tactical operations center and Steve is ushered into Captain Hamilton's office, that stands empty, at present, and the Ensign excuses himself. He stands about, feeling uneasy at the time all this is taking, nervous about wanting to get right onto the mission at hand, as is typical of him. Suddenly, a man in his late fifties enters the room, quickly eyeing him and moving towards his desk, and Steve salutes his superior officer.
"Captain Hamilton, Sir, Lieutenant Commander Steve McGarrett reporting for reserve duty, Sir!"
Captain Hamilton throws him an amused smile and motions for Steve to sit. "Come now, Lieutenant Commander, we both know there's no reserve duty here. If there was, it would be cruel to bring you all the way around the world for it, especially in the absence of a ship. At ease", he concludes, still amused.
Steve smiles back at his superior officer, relaxing a little bit and thinking that a congenial superior will be much easier to handle than a stern one, considering what he's come here to do.
"Commander, this base is now the second largest airfield in Afghanistan, and it is a joint operation between the United States and NATO countries. As a remote assignment in a battle zone, the only people here are military personnel and contract employees who support Operation 'Enduring Freedom'. The ISAF uses the base for humanitarian flights, training and medical flights and the Air Expeditionary Advisory Group is located here for the purpose of supporting NATO training missions and training the Afghan Air Force to be in a position to take over the base. Furthermore, the CIA uses this base for surveillance missions all over Iran and Afghanistan, and there's even a rumour that they may have run surveillance missions over Western Afghanistan with the help of drones. However, as is the norm with the Agency, we'll never know", Captain Hamilton continues, amused.
The mention of the CIA makes Steve immediately think of Catherine, heart beating faster in his chest. But Captain Hamilton is on a roll with the introductory information about the base he's responsible for, and Steve manages to bring his attention back to the task at hand, shoving painful, but very recent thoughts and images of his ex- to the back of his mind.
"The nearest town is seven miles away, at Sabzwar City, but I don't expect you'll have much time to explore the area in the few short days you're going to be around. Due to safety concerns, no one is allowed to live off base and anytime personnel are outside of their living quarters they must be armed, except when doing physical fitness training or showering. You will be assigned a weapon as soon as you leave my office. Do I make myself clear, Lieutenant Commander? At all times."
"Of course, Sir. I brought my own SIG, though."
"Good. But I was talking about a rifle. More fire power, if you get my drift… Ensign Roberts will take you to your sleeping quarters so you can clean up and you can meet me back here at 1200 hours."
Steve is yearning to get started, but doesn't dare contradict his superior officer, so he sighs resignedly and gets up, rearing to get the formalities out of the way as soon as he can. He salutes Captain Hamilton again and immediately spots the Ensign from before on his way out, waiting for him. He signals for the man to walk ahead of him and lead the way to the armoury and then his living quarters.
At exactly 1155 hours, Steve is back, now in fatigues and suitably armed, and is told to wait for Captain Hamilton outside his office. When he finally appears round a corner, 10 minutes later, he's being followed by two obviously non-military men, who are then ushered into his superior's office, along with him. Captain Hamilton introduces the men and motions for all to sit down, so they can start the meeting.
"Lieutenant Commander Steven J. McGarret, Navy SEAL. This is Officer Morrison", he says, motioning to the older of the two men, "and this is Officer Briars. They are CIA."
At Steve's slightly surprised look, Captain Hamilton explains:
"The CIA have been looking for Al-Nazri and his associates for over a year. When I was told a Navy SEAL would be coming over with new information and on a mission to capture him, I was given permission to join both our forces to try and flush them all out. They are a dangerous destabilizing force in the region and everyone would sleep much sounder at night if they were to be neutralized."
"Sir, may I speak freely?" Steve asks, fidgety, now becoming annoyed at the prospect of entering on a capture mission with the CIA. "No disrespect meant, but I asked the Navy's permission to come to Shindand to try to capture Al-Nazri. I didn't request the CIA's cooperation simply due to the fact that I hadn't meant to use it", he concludes, thinking back to when the Agency had tried to recruit him to join the highly secretive and elite Special Operations Group and he had refused the invitation, never more sure of anything in his life.
"Lieutenant Commander, in my world, if there's help available, we use it. I don't take the lives of my men lightly and I would be ecstatic if you came back unharmed, especially since the Governor of Hawai'i tells me you're doing a stellar job with his taskforce, there. So, if the CIA's offer of help means I am a step closer to achieving that goal, then you are going to accept their help, and they, yours. Besides, you have no working knowledge of this terrain, insurgent hotspots or even your way around. It would be madness to let you go alone, without tactical help. So, instead of spending time getting you up to speed with all that info, it's infinitely easier to simply have someone go with you, who does. Don't you think so?" Captain Hamilton asks, looking pointedly at Steve.
Defeated by his superior officer, all that's left for Steve is to agree, avoiding getting on the bad side of the only man whom he depends on, out here.
"Don't worry, Lieutenant Commander", the CIA officer in charge states, nonchalantly. "Our agent on the ground is very experienced in this particular warzone and you'll be very well taken care of", he finishes, and Steve could swear he detects a smirk. "You'll meet after lunch, our foray into town this morning ran a bit longer than expected. We came ahead, due to our meeting. Shall we say 1430 hours, East building, my office? The Ensign will take you there."
Steve nods his understanding. Both CIA Officers rise, shaking hands with him and his superior. After they leave, Captain Hamilton turns to Steve:
"I'm sorry, Commander, but this is an instance where we really can use their help. They are far more experienced in tracking down and capturing enemy combatants than we are, I'm sorry to say, and I want you gone as soon as possible. Consider it… a synergetic endeavor", Captain Hamilton says, smiling. "Now, as I said before, please do not venture outside without your weapon and do not hesitate to shoot if you find yourself in a dangerous situation. Your quarters have both a private lavatory and shower, so you won't need to be out in the open for those. But any other instances, always be aware of your surroundings. Anything you need, you know where my office is. I wish you the best of luck and we'll see each other every day, when possible, for debriefing."
He extends his hand to Steve who, surprised, shakes it and subsequently salutes his superior officer. He bids farewell to Captain Hamilton and exits his office, pissed off at the "help" he's been forced to accept. Ensign Roberts is waiting for him outside the office and he motions for him to start walking to wherever he's due next. As they reach the outside of the office building, Ensign Roberts turns to Steve and says, standing at attention:
"Sir, it's lunch time. Would you like to head over to the mess hall?"
"How far away is it?" Steve asks, wondering if the walk will be long.
"It's just across, on that big building, Sir. You can't miss it."
Steve smiles to himself and decides to let the young Ensign go have his lunch. He must have friends waiting for him.
"Then please go have lunch, Ensign. I'll be fine, don't worry about me. After lunch, though, I have a 1430 hour appointment in the East building… how far away is it?"
"It's just behind us, Sir. You may walk through this building towards the back, on the ground floor, and the East building is just across the street. The CIA offices are usually on the second floor."
Steve shows his surprise to the Ensign for knowing he was talking with the Agency, but he just smiles and says, calmly:
"We all know each other, Sir. In the end, we are all working for the same purpose and we must help each other. They've been instrumental in saving the lives of a few of my comrades, of late. So I have nothing against them", Ensign Roberts says, and Steve is starting to like him. And he is right, after all.
After bidding him farewell, Steve heads for the Mess Hall in hopes of putting his thoughts into order. Truth is, he's still pissed off at having been robbed of his mission and, despite understanding that it would be suicide trying to go at it alone, he wishes there had been some army personnel that he could've shadowed while looking for Al-Nazri. As it stands, though, there's nothing he can do. He pulls out his sat phone and dials Danny, who picks up on the third ring.
"Steve! Are you OK?"
"Yes, Danny, I'm fine. Everything's fine, on my end. How are things over there?"
"Fine, Steven, we're not the ones who voluntarily travelled to a war zone!" Danny says, annoyance finally seeping through.
"Danny, please understand, I know I didn't give you a lot of time to rant at my decision…"
Danny interrupts his sentence angrily.
"Rant? Rant, you say? Oh, you are an ass! First of all, I don't rant, Steven. Second, you could've listened to the concerns of the people who love you. You could've passed on the information to whomever is there, in the field, and they could've looked for Al-Nazri and his associates", Danny pauses.
"Danny, how many times have we had this conversation? I'm not the kind of man to just sit by and let others do my job, you know that!"
"No, no, you go in like a tank and railroad everything and everyone in order to get to your goal! But sometimes, Steven, sometimes… you could be less of an alpha male SEAL tomahawk one-track minded animal… and listen to other people!"
"Danny, I'm sorry. I really am. But I had to do this. I had to see this through. Seriously, you understand, right?" Steve says, genuinely sorry for not being able to make his partner more amenable to his argument.
"You know what, I should know you already. And I don't want to get mad at you, when you're millions of miles away, taking half my liver for a spin and I don't know if you're going to come back in one piece. Geez, Steve, look what you've got me thinking!"
"Danny, I promise I'll be extremely careful. As it is, I just got some unexpected help that I neither asked for, nor wanted..."
"No, don't tell me, you've been forced to accept help? So you won't be able to pull a 'Rambo: First Blood' thing over there?" Danny says, laughing.
"Funny. Real funny, Danno."
"But seriously, Steve, when are you coming back?"
"I have no idea, Danny. I have a meeting with the Agency this afternoon, so I guess they'll give me all their Intel then. Well, the Intel they want to give me, that is. I don't foresee this as being either easy or quick", Steve says, sighing, crossing the street to avoid the inclement freezing cold.
"Wait… the Agency, as in… the CIA?" Danny says, genuinely surprised.
"Yeah, they work out of this base, too. Captain Hamilton contacted them after my request for cooperation and I'll be shadowing one of their agents. I hate it."
"Of course you do, buddy, of course you do!" Danny says, mocking Steve. "But listen, just make sure you use their knowledge and expertise to help you capture the guys and return home quickly. After all, they must know what they're doing…"
"Yeah, Danny, sure they do. I just wish I didn't have to!" Steve says, entering the mess hall. For a few moments, his attention is diverted from the call as he takes in the sheer size of the cafeteria and all the different American restaurants available to personnel. Somehow, they make him feel more at home, more comforted. "Listen, I have to go. I'll keep you guys posted. Give my best to the team. I'll speak to you tomorrow, OK?"
"Before you go…"
"Yes, Danny?"
"Who will you be working with? Do you know?"
Steve sighs, not in the least bit surprised his friend's mind went there, just as his did. But he's not willing to acknowledge that to Danny, when there are so many other things he must keep a watchful eye on, not least of which, his own safety. He decides to deflect Danny's inference and play the dumb card.
"Well, Danny, I'm sure you know that I don't really know that many CIA agents, right? So no, I was told the agent was in town and that we'll be meeting after lunch. We'll see", Steve finishes, carefully selecting his words to shut his partner up. Besides, what are the odds?
Danny nods on his end, satisfied for now, and decides to let it go.
"OK, buddy, you have fun! Don't forget to call mommy after curfew, OK?"
"You're a regular Eddie Murphy, you are. Bye, Danny. Talk to you later."
"Bye Steve, stay safe, buddy. Grace sends her love. She's already organizing a party for your return, so don't you go disappointing her, you hear?"
"Sure, Danno. Send her my love too. Bye."
As he disconnects the call, Steve looks ahead trying to decide where to get lunch. For a moment, he wishes he was sitting down on a wooden table right next to Kamekona's food truck, under the wonderful Hawaiian sun, drinking Brazilian coconut water and eating shrimp with his Ohana. Dismissing these thoughts from his mind, he moves forward to join the line queuing for lunch at the cafeteria, suddenly assaulted by memories of MREs and actually missing one. His mind drifts back to an evening on O'ahu, when Catherine had made fun of him for preferring an MRE to her grandmother's ragu and had even taunted him with fulfilling a supposed fantasy of his by dressing in her cammos. He laughs to himself, looking away from the line in front of him, until his eyes land on a table a few feet away. His breath suddenly catches in his throat and Steve can't help looking the woman, sitting with her back to him, up and down. Slender, very dark brown hair in a bun, blue fatigues, talking animatedly with her two lunch companions. Steve freezes, enthralled by her figure, each passing second surer that he recognizes her and her mannerisms, but unable to move from his current position. After a few seconds, the person standing behind him urges him forward and all Steve can do is break away from the line, still fixated on the woman's form. When she tilts her head to listen to something someone sitting next to her is whispering, Steve can clearly see part of a blue star tattooed on the back of the woman's neck, outlined in black. His heart starts racing and he's thrown for a loop, frozen in time for several seconds while trying to control his thoughts. Suddenly, Officer Morrison's smirk becomes plainly clear. He must know, after all this is the CIA and his love affair with Lieutenant Catherine Rollins hadn't exactly been a flight of fancy or a two-day affair. He really can't put his finger on what makes him more nervous: the thought of seeing her so soon after Montana, the thought of working together with her again or the realization of just how dangerous her job really is.
Overwhelmed by memories of days gone by, Steve heads for the door and exits the mess hall, feeling the need to run, quickly. Breathing deeply, he is immediately attacked by the freezing cold, and decides to head back to his quarters until the time of his meeting with, he is now sure, 'Officer' Catherine Rollins. His emotions are all over the place and before he realises, he is now standing at the door to his sleeping quarters. There's still an hour to kill before his meeting, so Steve decides to lie down and try to get some rest. He knows he needs to get a grip on his emotions if working with Catherine is going to work out, but not only that – if there's any chance that both of them manage to leave their encounter in the same balanced emotional state they were both left in, after Catherine had left Montana. Steve lies down in his surprisingly comfortable bed, dropping his riffle by his side, on the floor. He thinks of calling Danny again, but decides against it, since his partner's warnings and general dislike for the situation would be epic and would take at least 10 minutes he'd much rather employ resting. Setting the alarm clock on his wristwatch for 10 minutes before he's due to be at the East building, Steve settles down to try and get some sleep.