The fourth book in the Sniper series, 2011

SHOMALI PLAINS

AFGHANISTAN

THE TWO SOFT-BACK HUMVEES belonging to the 116th Infantry Brigade Combat Team of the U.S. Army National Guard were on familiar turf. The stony ridge on which they were perched provided the ten American infantrymen with a feeling of temporary shelter and safety. After several hard hours of rolling on patrol, it was a pleasure for them to call it a day and move back into the previously prepared positions.

Their unit was a cohesive all-Virginia outfit that had trained together for years, and most of the young soldiers were good friends from towns up and down the lush Shenandoah Valley. Four were African Americans, including fireplug-thick Sergeant Javon Anthony. The 116th could trace its lineage all the way back to the famed Stonewall Brigade of the Civil War, but the modern Army thought it politically incorrect to perpetuate that troubled slice of American history. The brigade was placed in the 29th Infantry Division, a move that did away with the old blue-gray arm patch showing a caped General Stonewall Jackson sitting on his horse, Little Sorrel. The “Stony on a Pony” silhouette was left behind.

Sergeant Anthony really did not care about that. For him, history had narrowed to last week, yesterday, the past hour. Afghanistan had a way of making a man focus only on what was in front of him. He sat in his Humvee, listening to the buzz of the radio traffic and asking himself the question that plagues every leader: Have I done everything that I can?