Takedown by Brad Thor Read Free Book Online Page B

large nose of yours out of my personal life, I’d be more than happy to discuss what happened in Afghanistan.”
    This time, it was Bob’s turn to be silent. Though he hadn’t meant to, Harvath had dragged a piece of sandpaper over a very raw nerve.
    When Herrington finally spoke he said, “How many men did you lose when the president was kidnapped?”
    “Too many.”
    “Yeah,” said Bob, nodding his head knowingly. “It sucks. But you know what can be worse?”
    Harvath shook his head.
    “Having men under your command seriously maimed and in constant pain. That’s worse than seeing them die. At least when they’re dead, they’re not in anguish anymore.”
    Harvath signaled the bartender to bring him another round and said, “What happened in Afghanistan?”
    Bob waited until Harvath had his beer and after a little more prodding responded, “We were tasked with taking down a target near Herat. Somehow, they must have known we were coming, because they hit us first and hit us hard—real hard.”
    “We had a guy attached to our unit who’d messed up his ankle and I was helping hump his load. I should have seen that ambush coming, but I couldn’t. I wasn’t on point. I was the third guy in the column, making my way back up to the lead when it happened. The two guys in front got it real bad. I got off easy compared to them, but it doesn’t matter. Because of me, all three of us were handed medical retirements.”
    “You think this is all because you weren’t on point?”
    “A team leader leads, period.”
    “That’s bullshit, Bob, and you know it,” said Harvath. “Nobody can be on point all the time, not even you. That’s why the position gets rotated.”
    “But it was my turn to be up front.”
    “Yet you were humping the pack of an injured man. You can’t do both.”
    “Not anymore, apparently.”
    “Shit happens, Bob.”
    “Not to me it doesn’t and not to my team. We hadn’t even had so much as a hangnail in almost two years and then bang, three of us are out. One of my guys will never walk again, will never be able to make love to his wife, and the other one’s blind. He’ll never be able to watch his kids grow up. All of this because I wasn’t up front when I should have been.”
    Harvath knew Bob pretty well and he knew his reputation firsthand. In fact, most people in the Special Operations community knew it. Bob could carry an entire battalion on his back. He was an incredible athlete, and that athleticism made one of the best soldiers the United States had ever created. Since the day he’d joined the Army right out of high school, through his time as a Ranger and into 7th Group and then Delta, Bob had always led the way. It wasn’t an ego thing, it was just Bob—you couldn’t hold him back.
    The fact that he was taking the injuries of his teammates so personally was not surprising to Harvath. That was also the kind of guy Bob was. It was the way most American soldiers were. Truth, freedom, and the American way played well for the cameras, but the fact of the matter was that in the frenzied heat of combat, you weren’t fighting for your country, you were fighting for the guy right next to you.
    Looking his friend in the eyes, Harvath tried to assuage some of the man’s guilt by repeating, “Bob, shit happens.”
    “Yeah, maybe. But, it’s not the way I wanted to go out,” replied Herrington as he paused and took a long swallow of beer. “I wanted to go out on top. I would’ve liked just one more chance to prove not only to my team, but to myself that I could still do it—that what happened had nothing to do with me getting old, too slow.”
    Harvath was not going to let this become the tone for the entire weekend. Bob needed to snap the hell out of it. “You and your team competed in how many triathlons when you were home last year?”
    “Two.”
    “And the worst showing you had?”
    “Fifth place.”
    Harvath pretended to think about it for a moment and then