Gravedigger Read Online Free PDF Page A

weather and roads. Way up in the mountains on the other side of the Khyber. Want a drink?”
    “Absolutely.”
    Johnston dug into his duffel and withdrew a bottle of Glenmorangie scotch. “Think what Noa’s missing.”
    Shaking his head, Derek took the proffered three fingers of single malt. Both of the men had found the Israeli to be difficult and unfriendly. Clearly she wasn’t happy working with Americans. “Any idea why she got stuck in on this?”
    Another shrug from Johnston and a swallow. “My suspicion is it’s some sort of punishment or some sort of deal worked out between CIA, the US Army and MOSSAD that I’m not privy to.”
    Derek sipped the scotch and said, “Speaking of which, you want to tell me what a general is doing running around in the field in Pakistan and Afghanistan instead of pushing paper in Washington working on your second star?”
    “We’ve been driving for three days and this is the first time this occurred to you?”
    “It’s the first time I figured Noa wasn’t either in earshot or likely to interrupt.”
    “She does keep her eyes on us, doesn’t she?”
    “Yeah,” Derek said. “Like she doesn’t exactly trust us.”
    “Or she has an agenda different than us.”
    Cocking an eyebrow, Derek said, “Like what?”
    “I don’t know.”
    Derek sipped more of the scotch. “You’ve managed to avoid my question.”
    “I asked for the chance to work out here.”
    “Fresh out of Desert Storm and you want this? Go be a field soldier again?”
    “I’m considering going into the private sector or to an NGO. I’ve also got a party back in Minnesota urging me to run for the senate.”
    “You’ve never struck me as being terribly political.”
    “It’s not clear to me if the Minnesota Democratic Party thinks that’s a plus so they can boss me around.”
    “Or ‘mold’ you into whatever they want,” Derek said, making finger quote marks around “mold.”
    “That, too. But I’ve also been looking at some other things.”
    “Like?”
    “There’s an opening at State.”
    “At Foggy Bottom?”
    “Moscow, actually.”
    “So this might educate you?”
    “It gives me time to be away from the Army for a while. How about you, Derek? I was shocked when you retired. Make Colonel and promptly retire and join the Agency.”
    “Thought it might be nice to stop killing people for a while.”
    “How’s that working for you?”
    “Okay, although Cuba was a near-disaster. And I have to say, the Agency seems entirely willing to use their agents as pawns in some political deal. That’s probably what happened in Cuba. They didn’t expect me to succeed with the mission, they just wanted to flush out a mole and I was bait. I’m lucky I’m not rotting in a cell in Havana.”
    “Doesn’t sound like you’re completely happy with the Agency.”
    Derek finished his scotch and held it out for more. “Safe to say. We’ll see how things go in Afghanistan.”
    Johnston poured two fingers in each of their glasses. They clinked glasses and Johnston said, “This we’ll defend.” It was the Army’s official motto.
    Derek had been Army Special Forces, a Green Beret. “ De oppresso liber .” To free the oppressed, the Special Forces’ motto. He drank.
    The general grinned. “What’s the CIA’s motto?”
    “We’re so secret we don’t even know how fucked up we are.”
    Roaring with laughter, Johnston said, “I’ll drink to that.”

6
    The next morning found the three of them driving cautiously along rutted mountain roads in the driving rain. Noa had insisted on driving, but it wasn’t long before both Derek and Johnston demanded one of them take the wheel. She said they were being sexist.
    “No,” Derek said. “It’s because you’re insane. You’re going to get us all killed. Slow down.”
    “Let me put it even more succinctly,” Johnston growled. “Slow down or I will shoot you.”
    Now, with Johnston at the wheel, they were headed to a remote village called