Kill Bin Laden: a Delta Force Commander's account of the hunt for the world's most wanted man (2 page)

Another longtime special operations expert and successful author, Steve Hartov, also helped to guide me through the maze of telling an important story while still protecting secrets. I’m deeply indebted to Steve for his expert advice, persistent doses of motivation, and steady hand throughout the crazy business of book publishing. Without his extraordinary and delicate midwifery, this journey would have been aborted long ago.

Many others helped this work come to life, and I consider them friends for life. A great number have chosen anonymity because of continuing affiliations with the world of special operations. They know who they are, and that I am tremendously grateful that they cared enough to help. As my good friend Hans Halberstadt says, book publishing is a team
sport. But, all of that having been said, as the book’s author any errors or oversights, and the views and opinions expressed, are ultimately my responsibility and mine alone.

Finally, I am greatly indebted to Scott Miller, my savvy agent from Trident Media Group, and his colleagues there, who believed in this book from the beginning and never wavered or flinched in bringing it to life. The terrific folks at St. Martin’s Press also earned my deepest respect, particularly my editor, Marc Resnick, and the head publicist, John Murphy, who combined to make this an enjoyable journey. Late-inning thanks also go to Jim Hornfischer and the very talented Donald A. Davis.

* An unclassified version of the SOCOM history of Tora Bora is part of the 20th Anniversary History: 1987–2007 (U.S. Special Operations Command), pp. 93–98, which can be publicly accessed at
http://www.socom.mil/Docs/Command_History_26Feb07webversion.pdf
.

Hazret Ali
Pashai general of the Eastern Alliance Opposition Group and senior warlord employed by the CIA to hunt down Usama bin Laden. Former engineer with the Soviet-era mujahideen who helped carve the hundreds of caves in the Tora Bora Mountains.

Haji Zaman Ghamshareek
Pashtun leader of the Eastern Shura and slippery subordinate warlord to General Ali. Zaman was a former mujahideen commander during the Soviet-Afghan War and posed a serious threat to Ali’s power base in Nangarhar Province.

Gary Berntsen
The chief of all Central Intelligence Agency assets inside Afghanistan. Berntsen aggressively pursued Usama bin Laden, and when the U.S. military initially refused to help confirm that bin Laden was in Tora Bora, he risked everything by sending his own team.

George
Gary Berntsen’s deputy chief. The leader of Team Jawbreaker Juliet, the CIA point group leading the hunt for bin Laden at Tora Bora. A champion in forcing General Ali to use American commandos in the Tora Bora Mountains.

Lieutenant Colonel Al
Special Forces officer assigned to the CIA’s Special Activities Division, a critical member of the CIA Jawbreaker Juliet team, and liaison to the 5th Special Forces A Team deployed to Tora Bora.

Adam Khan
An Afghan national who became an American citizen and a U.S. Marine. The CIA borrowed him from another government agency to support military special operations in Afghanistan.

Lieutenant Colonel Jake Ashley
Delta Force squadron commander of the team that participated in the Battle of Tora Bora. His requests for specific authority and assets to prosecute the battle were denied. Veteran of the Battle of the Black Sea in Mogadishu, Somalia, in October 1993.

Lieutenant Colonel Gus Murdock
Jake Ashley’s predecessor as the Delta squadron commander. Hand-picked by Maj. Gen. Dell Dailey to head a new subordinate unit inside Joint Special Operations Command (JSOC) known as Advance Force Operations. Murdock also was a veteran of the Battle of the Black Sea in Mogadishu, Somalia, in October 1993.

Lieutenant Colonel Mark Sutter
Subordinate officer to Gus Murdock and commander of the Northern Advance Force Operations. He took the enormous risk of committing three of his men to Gary Berntsen’s joint CIA and JSOC team to move into the Tora Bora Mountains and confirm or deny bin Laden’s presence.

Dalton Fury
Code-named Redfly, the assault troop commander given command of all American and British military forces during the battle.

Sergeant Major Bryan
Code-named B-Monkey, the reconnaissance troop sergeant major who led the second Mission Support Site to enter the battlefield at Tora Bora.

Sergeant Major Ironhead
Squadron sergeant major and senior Delta noncommissioned officer operator in the battle. Personally led resupply missions deep behind enemy lines.

Sergeant Major Jim
Code-named Grinch, the assault troop sergeant major who led the first Mission Support Site to enter the battlefield.

Admiral
U.S. Air Force combat controller habitually attached to Delta
Force. He was ordered to participate in the mujahideen’s daylight assault on al Qaeda’s prepared positions. Abandoned during the fighting and forced to escape and evade back to friendly forces.

Catfish
Assault team leader present at the Battle of Tora Bora.

Crapshoot
Assault team leader present at Tora Bora and also at the capture of al Qaeda facilitator Gul Ahmed a year later.

Dugan
Muscular sniper sent to the battlefield within hours after arriving at the schoolhouse.

Hopper
Recce team leader who volunteered to participate in the mujahideen daylight assault on al Qaeda’s prepared positions. Abandoned during the fighting and forced to escape and evade back to friendly forces.

Jester
Encyclopedic-minded sniper sent to the battlefield within hours after arriving at the schoolhouse.

Pope
Recce team leader who chased retreating al Qaeda fighters straight up the middle of their prepared positions.

Scrawny
Sniper and member of Jackal team during the Battle of Tora Bora. Classmate of Dalton Fury during Ranger Course 10-84. Participated in the capture of al Qaeda facilitator Gul Ahmed.

Shrek
Sniper sent to conduct a “singleton” reconnaissance of Gul Ahmed’s village and participant in the Battle of Tora Bora.

Ski
Recce team leader present at Tora Bora and also at the Gul Ahmed capture.

Stormin’
Also known as “the Bod.” Delta assault team leader at Tora Bora and at the capture of Gul Ahmed a year later.

In February 2002, just six weeks after returning from a rewarding but frustrating combat tour in Afghanistan, my mates and I in Delta had refitted, reblued, and recocked and were anxiously awaiting our next mission in America’s war on terror. While also juggling the responsibilities of being husbands and fathers, we anticipated the proverbial “word” and speculated about our future, whether orders might send us to Yemen, Iran, Lebanon, Somalia, or any of a dozen other countries infested with Islamic fanatics.

By then, some two months had passed since the Battle of Tora Bora in December 2001, and news stories had begun permeating the world’s press claiming that America had squandered the opportunity to kill Usama bin Laden inside Afghanistan. Stories describing a failure by American special operations forces to accomplish their mission surfaced in newspapers and magazines and on Internet Web pages. Soon followed the usual flurry of books, feeding news-hungry and curious readers and intended to make a buck. It was hard to sit there and read that stuff and listen to what was spilling out of the television sets.

The mission, of course, had been to kill bin Laden, the most wanted man in the world. It was a mission so important that it couldn’t be assigned to just any American military or intelligence force. No, only two months after the terrible attacks of 9/11, this truly was a mission of national, maybe even of international, significance. The best commandos America had to offer were needed.

The task ended up in the hands of about forty eager and very willing members of America’s supersecret counterterrorist unit, formally known
as the 1st Special Forces Operational Detachment—Delta. More informally, the elite and mysterious organization is more popularly referred to as Delta Force. Inside our building, we refer to the organization simply as “the Unit.”

The American generals not only wanted bin Laden killed, but they also wanted proof. A cloudy photograph would do, or a smudged fingerprint. A clump of hair or even a drop of blood. Or perhaps a severed finger wrapped in plastic. Basically, we were told to go into harm’s way and prove to the world that bin Laden had been neutralized, as in “terminated with extreme prejudice.” In plain English: stone-cold dead.

In fact, the only inflexibility of the decision makers surrounded the eventual disposition of the terrorist mastermind’s remains. On this they were absolutely firm. We were to leave the body with our newfound friends in Afghanistan—the mujahideen, or as we called them, the “muhj.”

The Delta warriors got some help with the job, helpers who were as good as you could get. A dozen commandos from the famed British SBS and another dozen or so U.S. Army Green Berets stepped up. And, as usual, the Central Intelligence Agency was there first. Six CIA intelligence operatives and technicians provided umbrella leadership, cold hard cash, and guns and bullets for the effort. The Agency would link their intelligence collecting, interrogation, and a multitude of other skills to this clandestine military force.

A few talented U.S. Air Force special tactics commandos and several top-secret tactical signal interceptors rounded out the eclectic group of brave souls who ventured into Afghanistan as that cold winter closed in, far from home, far from help. We all would join to lay a modern siege of epic proportions. Inside one big-ass mountain range called Tora Bora we went up against bin Laden and his seemingly impenetrable cave sanctuary burrowed deep inside the Spin Ghar Mountains.

Over the years, since the battle ended, scores of news stories have surfaced offering tidbits of information about what actually happened in Tora Bora. Roughly 75 percent are complete conjecture and speculation, bar stool rumors and I-know-a-guy-who-was-there war stories. But as time passes these skewed stories of events may become historically accepted as factual information; if no one sets the record straight, such yarns may
someday grace the pages of student textbooks. Unchallenged, a lie often becomes history. Fantastic and exciting stuff, but utter hogwash. Trumpedup fantasy and fiction.

I’ve scrutinized hundreds of stories containing even the slightest hint about bin Laden’s status or the battle, and few reveal anything worthwhile. The media reports were sketchy because the media was not where the action was. But the public does not generally care if the story is accurate or not, since news has become entwined with entertainment.

The same public pushes the demand for information and seeks vicarious thrills, wanting to be thrown into a world of mystery, intrigue, action, and uncertainty. To experience a place where bravery and sacrifice carry the day, but also a sanitized place where nobody has to get hurt. No pain is felt. No blood is spilled.

The high peaks of Tora Bora provided a fantasy backdrop for dozens of reporters who camped in the foothills a few miles from the front lines, perched upon an odd place we called Press Pool Ridge. Because the timesensitive story submitted via satellite phone secured their next paycheck, scrutiny and accuracy were sometimes sacrificed in order to soothe an excitement-starved general public. After all, who was to say what exactly happened at Tora Bora, particularly if a television camera wasn’t present? Afghan warlords fed the press frequent briefings, and the very, very few people who might challenge whatever was reported would not talk to the media. Delta and the SBS avoided the press.

British newspaper writer Bruce Anderson penned my favorite story in a February 2002 edition of the London
Spectator
. His account provided significant impetus and motivation for my literary attempt to tell the true story. Although his article was full of international intrigue, shadow warrior mystery, and cries of rival elite counterterror units, it also fell far short of the truth on several counts.

Anderson claims an undisclosed member of the SAS, Britain’s famed Special Air Service commandos, shared the information that the American Delta Force wanted to kill bin Laden. That Delta fought in Tora Bora. And that two squadrons of 22 SAS commandos, roughly 130 men, fought alongside them. American author Robin Moore made the same claim in
The Hunt for Bin Laden
. See how an error grows?

Well, they got it half right! Yes, Delta was there, but those large SAS
squadrons were not. It was a group of twelve brave members of the British Special Boat Service, or SBS, men equal to America’s most skilled Navy SEALs, who ventured into al Qaeda’s formidable stronghold alongside Delta.

Each of us, to a man, American and British alike, wanted to take the final shot, to drop the most wanted man alive with a single bullet. Or at least be witness to our mate’s skill of arms and accuracy.

Finally, and something I hope to sufficiently explain, America’s generals were not alone in losing this one. The generals provided the game land, but it was Delta’s responsibility to develop a hunting strategy that would harvest the trophy buck. Since this particular trophy buck eventually eluded his hunters and got away, the questioning about why and how quickly surfaced among scholars, military strategists, politicians, and the public. The Monday-morning quarterbacks portrayed a military blunder and cried mission failure.

If Delta couldn’t deliver the goods or offer proof of having achieved the objective, then, yes, it was a failure. Even the most seasoned operator, our squadron sergeant major, said to me before we left the battlefield, in true realist fashion, “Sir, what was the mission? We failed!” A tough pill to swallow. An even tougher point to argue.