Tom Clancy's Ghost Recon: Combat Ops Read Online Free PDF

corporate type who played golf on the week ends with clients. He was taking graduate courses online, trying to earn his master’s, and he kept on retainer two or three girlfriends back home in San Diego. Because he was so articulate and so damned smart, he’d been recruited to teach at the JFK School, and when he wasn’t overseas, he participated in our four-week-long uncon ventional warfare exercise, Robin Sage. The first time I met him, I was immediately impressed by his knowledge of our tactics, techniques, and procedures. His candor and sense of humor invited you into a conversation. Once there, you realized, Holy crap, this guy is for real: talented, intelligent, and handsome. If you weren’t jeal ous and didn’t hate him immediately, you wanted him on your team.
    But those attributes did not make him famous around the Ghosts, no. He was, as far as I knew, the only Army officer who’d been offered his own Ghost unit and had turned down the offer.
    Let me repeat that.
    He’d become a Special Forces officer, had led an ODA team for a while, but when asked to join the Ghosts, he’d said no—and had even gone so far as to leave Spe cial Forces and return to the regular Army to become a company commander.
    We called it temporary insanity. Or alcoholism. Or some said cowardice: Pretty boy didn’t want to get a scratch on his smooth cheek.
    I’d never asked him why he’d done this. I didn’t want to pry, but I was also afraid of the answer.
    “I don’t know how much help you want with your gear,” Harruck said after we finished our drinks. “All your toys are classified, but I’ve got some guys that’ll take a look if you want.”
    “That’s all right. I’ll have to ship a few units back and see what they say. Meanwhile, we’ll have to wait till they drop in replacements.”
    “Any thoughts?”
    “Taliban bought EMP weapons from China,” I said through a dark chuckle. “It’d make sense. We’re run ning a war on their money now. Wouldn’t they do every thing they can to keep us spending? It worked when we did it to the Russians.”
    “I hear that.”
    “I’ve still got a half dozen more drones I can send  up—if I can get some Cross-Coms. The disruption’s localized, so we’ll find out what they’re using. I’m curi ous to see who they’re playing with now.”
    “What if it’s us?”
    I snorted. “NSA? CIA? You think they’re in bed with Zahed? Well, if that’s true—”
    “You sound tense.”
    “I’m not good with setbacks, you know that. I fig ured we’d capture this guy tonight and get out.”
    Harruck wriggled his brows. “Yeah, I mean he’s a fat bastard. He can’t even run.”
    I smiled. Barely.
    “You need to relax, Scott. You’re only here a few days. And the last time you were here, that didn’t last long, either. You’ve been lucky. It’s eight months for me now. Damn, eight months . . .”
    “Still smiling?”
    “To be honest with you—no.”
    I shifted to the edge of my seat. “Are you kidding me?” “This might sound a little hokey, but you know what?
    I came here to build a legacy.” “A legacy?”
    “Scott, you wouldn’t believe the pressure they’ve put on me. They think this whole war can be won if we secure Kandahar.”
    “I hear you.”
    “They’re calling it the center of gravity for the insur gency. That’s some serious rhetoric. But I can’t get the support I need. It’s all halfhearted. I’m going to walk out of here having done . . . nothing .”
    “That’s not true.”
    Harruck leaned back in his chair and pillowed his head in his hands. “I know what these people need. I know what my mission is. But I can’t do it alone.”
    I averted my gaze. “Can I ask you something? Why did you do this to yourself?”
    “What do you mean?”
    I took a moment, stared at my empty glass. “Another one?” he asked.
    “No. Um, Simon, this isn’t any of my business, but you could’ve been a Ghost.”
    “Aw, that’s old news. Don’t