Operation Mockingbird Read Online Free PDF Page B

heard voices on the other side, but no one came. He strained to make out what was being said. There were no discernible words but he caught the unmistakable sound of Arabic.
    Matt found out later that the coalition forces had been using unmanned aerial vehicles equipped with infrared cameras to monitor the neighborhood. They had identified some people in the area as potential insurgents and believed the house in the neighborhood where he was staying hid a huge cache of weapons. The building was located in a “no-go zone,” an area the military considered too dangerous to send in troops. So they sent in Predator drones equipped with AGM-114 Hellfire missiles.
    The attack had lasted only a few moments. But when it was over, the house and two neighboring buildings had been destroyed. He had been knocked unconscious, but the lives of many Afghan civilians -- men, women and children -- had been tragically cut short. Later he found out that they did find weapons parts in the basement of the emptywarehouse next door. It turned out to be an abandoned munitions factory that hadn’t been used since the Russians had fled Afghanistan in 1989. There weren’t enough antiquated parts to create one full weapon of any significance, but those facts never made it in the press. Weapons were declared to have been destroyed, and with only Afghan casualties, the mission was considered a success.
    That would have been difficult to explain to the families of the people who had perished in the attack. Eleven people had died -- blown to bits or crushed under the weight of the collapsed walls. Several others were pulled from the rubble barely alive. Had the bombing happened ten minutes earlier or ten minutes later, Matt would have been counted among the dead.
    Shortly after the attack, Matt, partly covered by rubble, unconscious and bleeding, had been spotted by Taliban patrolling the area to assess the damage. They were furious about the deaths of so many of their own people and the fact that Matt was still alive. They dragged him into the street, kicking and pummeling his body in front of the crowd that had gathered. The onlookers cheered his attackers and shouted for his death. Matt only vaguely recalled this, but the markings on his body and the aching in his bones confirmed the story.
    Ultimately, the Taliban leader of the patrol realized Matt was of greater value alive than dead and the public assault was abruptly terminated. They dumped him into a car and took him to one of their houses in another part oftown. Matt was thrown into a room, and a local doctor was sent for to check on his condition and tend to his wounds.
    Matt recognized the doctor. His name was Aamir. Matt had previously met him as the doctor made regular rounds to the various clinics in the area, administering to the sick and injured. He and Matt renewed their acquaintance and, over a period of time, became friends. Aamir came to visit him every day, long after his wounds warranted such attention.
    Aamir was a middle-class Afghani who had been educated in the United States at Tufts University School of Medicine. After interning at Mount Auburn Hospital in Cambridge, he became a resident at Boston’s Mass General Hospital and then joined the staff as a surgeon in the trauma unit. He married Sofia, an Afghan woman who had also been educated in the United States, and they started a life together there. When the rebuilding in Afghanistan began, Aamir and his wife thought they could help in the efforts by returning to their homeland. Aamir explained to Matt that since he had been back, he had been able to accomplish much, using his connections and foreign aid to build clinics in some of the rural areas. The clinics were equipped with only a bare minimum of equipment and supplies, but the staff was still able to care for the sick, most of whom traveled many days and over many miles to see him.
    Originally, Sofia shared her husband’s enthusiasm and was optimistic about the