THE MERCENARY

A journalist recounts a complicated but enduring friendship established during America’s “forever war.”

“He was a kid with bad habits and no money. Now he’s a kid with bad habits and a lot of money.” So writes Stern, the author of The 15:17 to Paris, of the man known variously as Alex or Aimal. The American and the Afghan are both, in a sense, on the make: Stern is looking for the big story that will make his name, while Alex seeks to grow rich, in part thanks to the Americans who flooded the country in 2001. A driver who “gave Westerners rides anywhere in [Kabul] with a reliable, English-speaking driver” for a flat fee of $7, Alex—“none of his customers ever asked how he ended up with a name they could say”—soon discovered that the path to wealth lay elsewhere. While plying a less legal and more dangerous trade, Alex continued to take Stern to see places and people that kept his byline alive. “With a lot of help from Alex and a little help from an industry at the exact right moment of its life/death cycle, I got to work,” writes the author, recounting how he delivered the requisite stories of terror, violence, and redemption, “inoculated against trauma.” Alex had a mysterious way of knowing when and where a Taliban attack was about to occur, and gradually, he became more comfortable among the foreigners—“and he knew why: in their eyes he was becoming more civilized.” Yet, as the Taliban gained strength and the foreigners lost their resolve, Alex’s world crumbled, forcing him to mount a roundabout exodus. This part of the story is overlong, but it shows how Alex successfully gamed the immigration systems of several nations, leading to relevant prosperity, if not wealth.

An affecting story of the human costs of a war doomed to fail because “it began without enough understanding.”