"Yes," he lied.

12.

echo teAm With the radio out, there was no way to call in our helo. Protocol allowed for a flyby six hours after we'd rappelled into the LZ, and there were still four hours on that clock.

So we used the time to locate and secure a safe spot to use as a base camp. It was a tunnel near the ambush point. It was shaped like a croissant and ran maybe sixty-five feet from one end to the other. Bunny rigged one end of the tunnel with b.o.o.by traps. No explosives, just a couple of flash-bangs that he hid so cleverly that a mountain goat wouldn't see them. Bunny is very good at that sort of thing.

Top used flex-cuffs to bind Finn's ankles and wrists. Once he was secure, Top used the first-aid kit to fix the damage to the man's face.The three punches had cracked his nose and bruised the orbit around Finn's right eye. He'd have a headache for a month. Better than a bullet, though.

For my part, I had aching b.a.l.l.s, scattered bruises, and some wounded pride. And I was more confused than I'd ever been in my adult life. I swallowed a couple of painkillers-wishing I could wash them down with Jack Daniel's-and took up a position at the other cave mouth while Bunny did a quick recon of the area. I motioned for Top to join me out of earshot and told him about the statues, and he brought them back and stood them in a row on the sand. Except for the gold bull.That one he held and stared at with goggle eyes.

"Is this . . . ?" he breathed.

"Yes," I said.

"Solid?"

"I think so."

"Holy monkey-f.u.c.k! This has to be worth a fortune." "Call it a hundred grand, give or take."And I explained about

the fight, the ma.s.sacre, the opium, and the parcels.They worked it through and came to about the same conclusions I had . . . that it didn't add up. Not in any way we could see.

At my direction, Bunny buried the statues and marked the spot so we could find them again. None of us wanted to hump all that weight around.

"Even the gold bull?" Bunny asked, reluctance showing on his face.

"All of it."

When he was done, I asked, "What's the status on the radio?" "Still out," said Top. "This is hinky as s.h.i.t, Cap'n."

"I know." I didn't mention to them that it seemed to go out every time I tried to arrange for a helicopter evac.

"And here's something else you ain't going to like," he said.

I just looked at him.

Top flipped up his tactical computer. "This is dead, too.Went out the same time as the radio. Ditto for every other gadget we have. Sensors, meters, all of it. Now, I know that sounds like an EMP, but the Taliban don't have anything that can send out an electromagnetic pulse. Not unless someone dropped a nuke somewhere and we ain't heard about it."

"Maybe an e-bomb?" I ventured, but it was a lame suggestion. The Taliban didn't have hardware like that. And no one in their right mind would have sold it to them. That would have been a ticket to a military escalation that n.o.body on either side wanted. "Okay,Top, drop the other shoe. What's the rest of it?"

"I got no shoe to drop, Cap'n. I'm standing here in my socks ankle-deep in some weird s.h.i.t."

We looked up at the mountains.

"Bug said NASA thought it's something in the rocks," I said. "Some metal or ore that's creating a field of interference."

When I looked at Top, I could see how much of that he believed. "You really trying to sell that?" he asked.

I didn't bother to answer.

When Bunny returned, we three hunkered down around Finn. I said, "I'm tired of watching Finn get his beauty rest. Let's see if we can get some straight G.o.dd.a.m.n answers."

Top produced a syrette filled with a stimulant and c.o.c.ked an eyebrow at me. I nodded and he jabbed.

Finn twitched and groaned, and in a few seconds his eyes fluttered open. He blinked his vision clear and looked at the three faces ringed around him. He wasn't seeing any smiles.Then the pain from his face registered and he winced.

"What . . . happened?" he asked thickly.

I told him.

He winced at that, too.Then his eyes popped wide and started darting around, looking past us as his whole body went rigid with tension.

"Is she here? Did you get her?"

"Whoa, whoa," I said soothingly. "Who are you talking about?"

"Her, G.o.dd.a.m.n it. Did I get her?"

"Finn-you grabbed my piece and started taking potshots at some local boy. A kid, for chrissakes."

He shook his head. "That was no boy, Joe. It only looks like one."

We stared at him.