Fifteen days after the towers fell, seven Americans crossed the Hindu Kush in a borrowed Soviet helicopter, carrying cash instead of bombs — and so began the longest war in American history. Twenty-five years on, a restored Mi-17 now rests under climate-controlled light at CIA headquarters, a quiet monument to the men who moved first, before doctrine, before armies, before the world had fully named what had happened. The machine endures; so do the obligations it carried.
Inside the CIA's first covert mission to Afghanistan after 9/11
CIA officer Johnny Micheal Spann, 32, was killed in combat on November 25, 2001, during a prisoner uprising at Qala-i-Jangi fortress, becoming the first American combat casualty in Afghanistan.
That's what people do. That's what we do.
Mark
Why does a helicopter matter so much? It's just a piece of equipment.
Mimi
It's not really about the helicopter itself. It's about what it carried—the first CIA officers into Afghanistan after 9/11, just fifteen days later. It's a symbol of how fast the response was, and how personal the mission became.
Luke
But we should be clear: this is one helicopter. JAWBREAKER was one team. How representative is this of the broader CIA effort?
Mimi
Fair point. But what makes this specific story matter is what happened to the people on those missions. Mike Spann died weeks later. That's not abstract.
Mark
So the helicopter is really about the people?
Mimi
Exactly. It's about Tyson and Spann and the Afghan fighters they worked with. The helicopter is just the vessel that carried them into a war that lasted twenty years.
Luke
And we should note: Tyson is still involved in supporting those Afghan fighters through Badger Six. That's ongoing work, not historical reflection.
Mark
So the story doesn't end in 2001?
Mimi
No. It ends in 2021 when the U.S. withdrew and the Taliban came back. And then it continues with people like Tyson trying to help the Afghans who were left behind.
Luke
Which raises a question the reporting doesn't fully answer: how many Afghan fighters were left vulnerable? Badger Six supports thirty-five families—is that most of them, or a fraction?
Mimi
That's a gap. We know the number for Badger Six, but not the scale of the broader problem.
Mark
But we do know Tyson feels obligated to continue the work.
Mimi
Yes. And that obligation is the real story—not the helicopter, but what people do when governments move on.
O Pulso
- Just fifteen days after 9/11, a seven-man CIA team code-named JAWBREAKER landed in Afghanistan's Panjshir Valley with millions in cash and no clear exit — the opening move of a war that would last two decades.
- CIA officer David Tyson and Team Alpha pushed even deeper, becoming the first Americans behind Taliban lines, riding hostile stallions through mountain passes for fourteen hours at a stretch to reach Uzbek fighters in the north.
- On November 25, 2001, a prisoner uprising at Qala-i-Jangi fortress turned a routine interrogation into a firefight — CIA officer Mike Spann, 32, was killed, becoming the first American combat casualty of the war, and Tyson fought his way out with Spann's rifle.
- The rifle is now in the CIA Museum; the Mi-17 has been restored and returned to display; but the human debt remains live — Tyson and Spann's widow run Badger Six, a nonprofit sustaining roughly thirty-five Afghan fighter families abandoned after the 2021 U.S. withdrawal.
Fifteen days after the towers fell, seven Americans crossed the Hindu Kush in a borrowed Soviet helicopter, carrying cash instead of bombs — and so began the longest war in American history. Twenty-five years on, a restored Mi-17 now rests under climate-controlled light at CIA headquarters, a quiet monument to the men who moved first, before doctrine, before armies, before the world had fully named what had happened. The machine endures; so do the obligations it carried.
A Soviet-built Mi-17 helicopter, its paint deliberately aged to match two decades of wear, now sits on display at CIA headquarters in Langley — a monument not to victory, but to the first hours of America's longest war. On September 26, 2001, just fifteen days after the attacks, seven CIA officers code-named JAWBREAKER crossed the Afghan mountains in that aircraft, landing in the Panjshir Valley with millions in cash and a mandate to build alliances against al-Qaeda and the Taliban. The helicopter was chosen for camouflage — both sides flew Mi-17s — and for its rare ability to clear the Anjuman Pass at 14,500 feet. Its crew painted an American flag on the stabilizers, visible from above but hidden from the ground. They had no blue paint. The flag stayed unfinished. The call sign they gave it was 9-11-01.
David Tyson, a CIA case officer fluent in Uzbek, Turkmen, and Russian, joined the effort weeks later. On October 17, Team Alpha was inserted behind Taliban lines — the first Americans sent that deep into enemy territory. Tyson rode with Afghan fighters through the mountains, sometimes fourteen hours a day on hostile stallions that bit, kicked, and fought one another. The work was intelligence gathering, relationship building, and war-making by proxy, alongside Uzbek commander Abdul Rashid Dostum.
By late November, the Taliban had collapsed across much of the north. Hundreds of foreign prisoners were taken to Qala-i-Jangi fortress near Mazar-e-Sharif. On November 25, Tyson and fellow officer Mike Spann entered to identify and question them — among the captives was John Walker Lindh, an American who had joined the Taliban. Hours in, the prisoners rose up. Explosions. Gunfire. Tyson heard Spann call his name, then found him on the ground. He shot the men on top of him and took Spann's rifle. Spann, thirty-two years old, became the first American killed in combat in Afghanistan — the seventy-ninth star on the CIA's Memorial Wall. Tyson carried that rifle for the rest of his deployment. It is now in the CIA Museum, beside the boots his then-eight-year-old son would later call 'Dad's lucky boots.'
Twenty-five years on, the Mi-17 has been restored, its original call sign returned. But for Tyson, the more pressing continuity is human. He and Shannon Spann DeBruyn — Mike's widow — run Badger Six, a nonprofit named after Spann's call sign, supporting roughly thirty-five families of Afghan fighters left exposed when the United States withdrew in 2021 and the Taliban returned to power. Tyson thinks about Spann every day. The work, he says, continues not because institutions have honored their debts, but because that is simply what people do.
A Soviet-built helicopter sits in a climate-controlled space at CIA headquarters in Langley, Virginia, its fuselage freshly restored, its paint deliberately faded to match the wear of two decades. The Mi-17 is a monument to the opening hours of America's longest war—a war that began not with invasion but with seven men in a helicopter, crossing Afghan mountains on September 26, 2001, just fifteen days after the attacks.
The team, code-named JAWBREAKER, landed in the Panjshir Valley carrying millions of dollars in cash. Their job was to gather intelligence, shore up relationships with the Northern Alliance, and prepare the ground for what would come next. The timing was brutal: Ahmad Shah Massoud, the Northern Alliance's military leader, had been assassinated by al-Qaeda operatives two days before 9/11. The CIA was moving fast, betting that a Soviet helicopter would blend into the landscape better than an American one. The Northern Alliance and Taliban both flew Mi-17s. They were, as CIA historian Rob Byer put it, the pickup trucks of the region. The aircraft could also handle the altitude—it needed to cross the Anjuman Pass at roughly 14,500 feet to reach the valley. Few helicopters could make that crossing.
The crew painted "USA" and an American flag across the stabilizers, visible from above but hidden from the ground. They had no blue paint, so the flag remained unfinished. They gave the helicopter a call sign: 9-11-01. It would fly more than 300 missions before being retired in 2012.
David Tyson was a CIA case officer stationed in Central Asia when the attacks happened. He spoke Uzbek, Turkmen, and Russian—languages that would make him valuable in what came next. On October 17, less than three weeks after JAWBREAKER arrived, Tyson and Team Alpha were inserted into northern Afghanistan behind Taliban lines, the first Americans sent that deep into enemy territory. Their mission was to work with Uzbek forces commanded by Abdul Rashid Dostum, to gather intelligence and help prosecute a war alongside local fighters. Tyson traveled on horseback through the mountains with Afghan fighters, sometimes riding fourteen hours a day. "The horses were not friendly," he recalled. "They were stallions, they fought between each other, they bit us, they kicked us, they tried to knock us off."
By late November, Taliban forces had collapsed across much of northern Afghanistan. Hundreds of foreign fighters surrendered and were taken to Qala-i-Jangi, a sprawling fortress near Mazar-e-Sharif. On November 25, Tyson and fellow CIA officer Johnny Micheal "Mike" Spann entered the fortress to identify the prisoners and determine where they had come from. Among them was John Walker Lindh, a California native who had joined the Taliban. Hours into their work, the prisoners rose up. There were explosions, gunfire, yelling. Tyson heard Spann call his name. "I remember seeing his silhouette or body on the ground," Tyson said. "I believe Mike was already dead when I got to him and I was able to shoot the men on top of him and took Mike's rifle from him."
Spann, thirty-two years old, became the first American killed in combat in Afghanistan. His was the seventy-ninth star carved into the CIA's Memorial Wall. Tyson fought his way to safety with Spann's rifle, which he carried for the rest of his deployment. The rifle is now in the CIA Museum, alongside the boots Tyson wore throughout—boots his then-eight-year-old son later called "Dad's lucky boots." "That rifle saved my life, I think, among other things," Tyson said.
Twenty-five years later, the Mi-17 has been restored. The CIA sealed its openings, repainted it, brought back the call sign "607" of the Afghan pilot who flew the first mission. For Tyson, the artifacts preserve something more personal. He and Shannon Spann DeBruyn, Mike's widow, now work with Badger Six, a nonprofit created in 2022 and named after Spann's call sign. It supports about thirty-five families of Afghan fighters who worked alongside Team Alpha—families left vulnerable when the United States withdrew in 2021 and the Taliban reclaimed power. Tyson thinks about Spann daily. "I'd like to think he helps guide me through things," he said. The work continues, not because governments have finished their obligations, but because, as Tyson put it simply, "that's what people do. That's what we do."
Citações Notáveis
The horses were not friendly. They were stallions, they fought between each other, they bit us, they kicked us, they tried to knock us off.— David Tyson, describing his deployment with Afghan fighters
I believe Mike was already dead when I got to him and I was able to shoot the men on top of him and took Mike's rifle from him.— David Tyson, recounting the prisoner uprising at Qala-i-Jangi
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