Beyond The Limit

"MAJOR TRAYHERN, YOUR orders to Afghanistan are either going to be a career killer or a career maker." Colonel Ronald Waskul laid down the olive-green file folder and stared across his desk at the twenty-nine-year-old Marine Corps officer. Waskul liked how the major's gunmetal-gray eyes focused like a laser as he absorbed every word. As it should be. Tapping the report, the colonel added gruffly, "This construction project is important. You will be there for two years, laying the groundwork and facilitating the building of a historic building of a small coal-fired power plant in that country. Afghanistan has very little electricity and has no power plants inland because there are no lakes and rivers. The U.S. government at the highest levels of the State Department are working with an international consortium of construction companies to provide more energy to this region." Pete Trayhern was sweating heavily in his dark green wool uniform. He could see it was snowing outside the window behind Colonel Waskul's gray head. A late and unexpected April storm had dumped two feet of the white stuff on Washington, D.C. Pete had just arrived off a transport that had flown him in from Germany. Despite the crazy weather, perspiration beaded his upper lip, and he had the wild desire to wipe it off with the back of his hand. But he didn't dare. According to his father, Morgan Trayhern, the colonel was a king maker in his own right. They had worked on many covert projects together over the last decade, and Pete knew his father idolized the rough-hewn Marine officer. "Yes, sir, I got a briefing on it before I left my old construction job. I'm sure it shows in my personnel file. I served as an assitant company commander in Kandahar for a year, so I'm not unfamiliar with the country. I'm gung ho on these new orders, Colonel Waskul, and I'm the right man for the job." With his background as a mechanical engineer, graduating from Annapolis four years earlier, Pete had since made a name for himself as an assistant site-construction superintendent. And yet he wondered if his highly influential father, who ran a CIA covert group, had anything to do with this latest development. Pete had known that his two years at the German construction site were up and that he would be transferred, but he hadn't known where. Until now. Waskul grunted and opened another folder. His thick gray brows turned down. "Yes, your assignment to Kandahar as an assistant company commander is part of the reason you're here. I've carefully gone over your construction record, Major Trayhern. We ran the requirements through the Pentagon computers and came up with five finalists. You were first on that list." Tapping the folder, he added, "You've got a background in bringing electrical substations online, and your last job was building a power plant in its start-up phase near Berlin. You kept that job on schedule and on budget. In today's environment, the U.S. government isveryconcerned about meeting all these goals." He stared at Pete. "Colonel James Flint, your past supervisor, has glowing remarks about how effective you were in liaising with civilian construction companies and getting their work completed within the contract requirements." "Yes, sir, the old carrot-and-stick routine." Pete started to smile, but quickly wiped it off his face when Colonel Waskul frowned even more. Pete hated these "official" meetings with superiors. Truth be known, he'd rather be out clomping around in the field with D9 Caterpillars, growling earthmovers and noisy backhoes than sitting in the stifling, stuffy confines of a Pentagon office. He yearned to be out in the cold, crisp air, drawing it deeply into his lungs. Fighting jet lag and no sleep in the last forty-eight hours, Pete felt rummy. As he held the colonel's icy blue stare, he did his best to remain alert and appear interested. "Well, you're going to need every carrot, stick and donkey youMcKenna, Lindsay is the author of 'Beyond The Limit', published 2006 under ISBN 9780373771424 and ISBN 0373771428.