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Back Line of Control Save as PDF
Chapters (73)
  1. LINE Of CONTROL
  2. Acknowledgments
  3. PROLOGUE.
  4. CHAPTER ONE.
  5. CHAPTER TWO.
  6. CHAPTER THREE.
  7. CHAPTER FOUR.
  8. CHAPTER FIVE.
  9. CHAPTER SIX.
  10. CHAPTER SEVEN.
  11. CHAPTER EIGHT.
  12. CHAPTER NINE.
  13. CHAPTER TEN.
  14. CHAPTER ELEVEN.
  15. CHAPTER TWELVE.
  16. CHAPTER THIRTEEN.
  17. CHAPTER FOURTEEN.
  18. CHAPTER FIFTEEN.
  19. CHAPTER SIXTEEN.
  20. CHAPTER SEVENTEEN.
  21. CHAPTER EIGHTEEN.
  22. CHAPTER NINETEEN.
  23. CHAPTER TWENTY.
  24. CHAPTER TWENTY-ONE.
  25. CHAPTER TWENTY-TWO.
  26. CHAPTER TWENTY-THREE.
  27. CHAPTER TWENTY-FOUR.
  28. CHAPTER TWENTY-FIVE.
  29. CHAPTER TWENTY-SIX.
  30. CHAPTER TWENTY-SEVEN.
  31. CHAPTER TWENTY-EIGHT.
  32. CHAPTER TWENTY-NINE.
  33. CHAPTER THIRTY.
  34. CHAPTER THIRTY-ONE.
  35. CHAPTER THIRTY-TWO.
  36. CHAPTER THIRTY-THREE.
  37. CHAPTER THIRTY-FOUR.
  38. CHAPTER THIRTY-FIVE.
  39. CHAPTER THIRTY-SIX.
  40. CHAPTER THIRTY-SEVEN.
  41. CHAPTER THIRTY-EIGHT.
  42. CHAPTER THIRTY-NINE.
  43. CHAPTER FORTY.
  44. CHAPTER FORTY-ONE.
  45. CHAPTER FORTY-TWO.
  46. CHAPTER FORTY-THREE.
  47. CHAPTER FORTY-FOUR.
  48. CHAPTER FORTY-FIVE.
  49. CHAPTER FORTY-SIX.
  50. CHAPTER FORTY-SEVEN.
  51. CHAPTER FORTY-EIGHT.
  52. CHAPTER FORTY-NINE.
  53. CHAPTER FIFTY.
  54. CHAPTER FIFTY-ONE.
  55. CHAPTER FIFTY-TWO.
  56. CHAPTER FIFTY-THREE.
  57. CHAPTER FIFTY-FOUR.
  58. CHAPTER FIFTY-FIVE.
  59. CHAPTER FIFTY-SIX.
  60. CHAPTER FIFTY-SEVEN.
  61. CHAPTER FIFTY-EIGHT.
  62. CHAPTER FIFTY-NINE.
  63. CHAPTER SIXTY.
  64. CHAPTER SIXTY-ONE.
  65. CHAPTER SIXTY-TWO.
  66. CHAPTER SIXTY-THREE.
  67. CHAPTER SIXTY-FOUR.
  68. CHAPTER SIXTY-FIVE.
  69. CHAPTER SIXTY-SIX.
  70. CHAPTER SIXTY-SEVEN.
  71. CHAPTER SIXTY-EIGHT.
  72. CHAPTER SIXTY-NINE.
  73. CHAPTER SEVENTY.

Whether we stick to the original mission or work out a new one, it could get ugly out there."

"We'll also have to talk about what to tell the president and the CIOC,"

Lewis said.

"I have a suggestion about that," Herbert told him.

"If you tag Mr. Friday as a loan-out to Striker as of right now, the NSA doesn't have to be involved in making that decision." "That's a negative," Lewis told him.

"I'm new on the job, Bob, but I'm not a novice. You let me know what Paul's thinking is and I'll make the call on our end."

"Pair enough," Herbert said. He smiled. He respected a man who did not pass the buck. Especially a buck this big.

"Ron," Lewis said, "I'd like you to talk to the farmer and to Captain Nazir. See if they're with you on a possible search-and-capture. I agree with Bob. Mr. Kumar can be very useful if we're able to locate his granddaughter." "I'll do it," Friday said.

"Good," Herbert said.

"Hank, you and I will talk after I've discussed this with Paul and General Rodgers. Mr. Friday-thank you for your help." Friday said nothing.

Herbert hung up. He swore at the very thought of Ron Friday and then put him from his mind-for now. There were larger issues to deal with.

He made an appointment to see Paul Hood at once.

CHAPTER TWENTY-THREE.

Kargil, Kashmir Thursday, 7:43 a. m.

Before leaving the helicopter Ron Friday opened a compartment between the seats. He found an old backup book of charts in there. The chopper's flight plan was dictated by computer-generated maps. These animated landscapes and grid overlays were presented on a monitor located above the primary flight display screen between the pilot and copilot stations. A keypad beneath the monitor was used to punch in coordinates.

Friday tore out the maps he wanted and shoved them in the pocket of his windbreaker.

As he headed back to the farm, Friday punched the air.

He unleashed a flurry of strong, angry uppercuts that did not just hit the imaginary chin of Bob Herbert. The punches went through his new nemesis as he struck at the sky. Who the hell did Bob Herbert think he was? The man had been wounded in the line of duty. That entitled him to disability compensation, not respect.

The pis mire Friday thought. Bob Herbert was just a wage slave drone in the hive.

Friday finished his flurry of blows. His heart was ramming his chest, his arms perspiring. Breathing heavily, he flexed his fingers as he stalked across the rocky, uneven terrain.

It's all right, Friday told himself. He was here, at the heart of the action, in control of his destiny. Bob Herbert was back in Washington barking orders. Orders that could easily be ignored since Lewis had not allowed him to be seconded to Op-Center. Friday put the self-pitying bureaucrat from his mind and concentrated on the work at hand.