Operation: Forbidden. Lindsay McKenna
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Operation:
Forbidden
Lindsay McKenna
Table of Contents
Dear Reader,
The creation and idea for this story comes from my dear friend, Marchiene Reinstra, an Interfaith Minister. Although born in India to Dutch missionary parents, Marchiene lived the first eight years of her life in Pakistan on the Afghanistan border. She has fond memories of that country and its people. It was from her experience and memories about the Afghan people that I developed my hero.
I love Marchiene’s perspective on the world. As an Interfaith Minister, she is steeped in many different world religions, including the Muslim faith. Her contention is that all the great religions, while having their fanatics, also have a core group who truly practice what they believe. Marchiene knows quite a bit about the Sufi branch of the Muslim faith. They are the mystics of their faith. She said that the Sufis work from their heart. Everything they do is in praise of God.
My prayers are that one day, all peoples of the world can live in harmony, peace and respect with one another. And with that in mind, please enjoy Operation: Forbidden. Let me hear from you at www.lindsaymckenna.com.
Warmly,
Lindsay McKenna
About the Author
As a writer, LINDSAY MCKENNA feels that telling a story is a way to share how she sees the world. Love is the greatest healer of all, and the books she creates are parables that underline this belief. Working with flower essences, another gentle healer, she devotes part of her life to the world of nature to help ease people’s suffering. She knows that the right words can heal and that creation of a story can be catalytic to a person’s life. And in some way she hopes that her books may educate and lift the reader in a positive manner. She can be reached at www.lindsaymckenna.com or www.medicinegarden.com.
Chapter 1
Emma was in deep trouble. She’d just signed up for a second tour at Camp Bravo on the front lines of the Afghanistan war. And now this. Her commanding officer, Major Dallas Klein, had just requested her presence. Right now. That couldn’t be good. She swallowed hard, and her heart began a slow pound of dread.
“Go on in, Captain Cantrell,” the assistant said, gesturing to the C.O.’s office.
Emma nodded, took a deep breath and opened the door. She stepped inside and quietly closed it behind her. “Reporting as ordered, ma’am,” Emma said, coming to attention.
Dallas Klein looked up from behind her desk.
“At ease. Have a seat, Captain,” Dallas said, pointing to the chair near her desk.
“Yes, ma’am,” Emma murmured. Sitting at attention, she clasped her hands and waited. Her boss frowned as she lifted about ten files and put them into her lap. The woman sifted through them, and Emma instinctively knew they had something to do with her. She almost blurted out, What kind of trouble am I in now? but didn’t. Compressing her lips, Emma held on to her last shred of patience.
“Here it is,” Dallas said, opening one file and pushing the others aside. “Captain, you’re the only woman in our squadron that speaks Pashto. You took a one-year saturation course before you came over here. Correct?”
“Yes, ma’am.” Emma nodded.
“Good. And you continue to use the language?”
“Of course. I get a lot of practice with the Afghans who are allowed to work here on our base.”
Dipping her head, Dallas looked down at the thick sheaves of paper in the file. “Very well, Captain. I’ve just had a highly unusual request dropped on me. And ordinarily, I would tell high command to go stuff it, but this time, I couldn’t.” Dallas scowled over at Emma. “You really gave your career a black eye last August by rescuing that Special Forces sergeant off a hill under attack. I know Nike Alexander had the idea, but you were the XO at the time, and you implemented her request.”
Emma wanted to roll her eyes. God, didn’t Klein forget anything? She remained silent; the major wanted her to respond, but what could she say? Yes, she’d screwed up, but she’d also saved a life. Emma knew when to keep her mouth shut, and she held the major’s flat stare. Emma had never confessed to what the major just said. If she had, she would probably have been court-martialed. The better choice was to remain alert but mute.
“Well,” Dallas growled, jerking open another paper from the file, “I have a way for you to save your career, Captain Cantrell.”
Brows raised, Emma was interested. “Oh?”
“Actually,” Dallas said, “the Pentagon chose you because you speak Pashto, the common language here in Afghanistan. And frankly, I’d like to see you distinguish yourself in some way so you can eventually go up for major and make the promotion.” Dallas thumped the file with her index fingers. “I believe this is a very good way for you to salvage your army career, Captain Cantrell. I hope you