Darkness had fallen.
Some of their fellow soldiers had retired for the evening. Two stood guard.
All seemed well.
But as several soldiers sprawled on nearby cots, playing cards, the calm collapsed catastrophically at 9:27 p.m.
An exploding grenade shattered the stillness, followed in seconds by bursts of gunfire. Before any of the Americans could raise a hand to defend themselves, Lawrence was dead from a bullet to the head, and Russell was dying, shot three times in the back.
They were not killed by the Taliban, as the U.S.-led military coalition indicated the day after the Oct. 8, 2011, assault. Lawrence, 29, of Nashville, Tenn., and Russell, 25, of Scotts, Mich., were killed in what U.S. investigators later called a "calculated and coordinated" attack by Afghan soldiers entrusted to work alongside their U.S. partners.
This is the first published account of the attack and is based on internal Army records and interviews in the U.S. and Afghanistan.
For Russell's family, the anguish is still fresh. His father, Jim, said the loss was even harder to accept after learning from the Army's investigation report early this year that it was a supposed ally, not the Taliban, who killed his son.
"It wasn't like a battle, you know. He pretty much got ambushed," he said, pausing at length to settle his emotions. "That makes it difficult."
On that moonlit Saturday evening, Russell was the designated "battle captain," or duty officer, in the command center. Lawrence worked beside him as a plans officer. Both were members of the 4th Infantry Division's 2nd "Warhorse" Brigade. They deployed to Afghanistan in June 2011. Lawrence had married just one week before leaving; the honeymoon was to wait until he returned home.
The Associated Press learned details of the attack from formerly secret Army investigation records obtained through the Freedom of Information Act. The Army removed substantial portions of the documents to protect what it called properly classified information as well as the identities of most people involved. The AP established some identities on its own.
The investigation — a standard process in a war zone — found that security at the U.S.-Afghan command post was so relaxed that guards were not told to check anyone entering. Potential Afghan thievery, not treachery, was judged the chief threat. Thus the killers had unfettered access and moved about without arousing suspicion.
Only 10 designated Afghan security personnel were supposed to be in the compound, but U.S. guards were given no access roster. Unknown numbers "freely entered and exited the compound unchecked," an Army investigator found.
The Americans had been told to treat the Afghans as if they were mingling in Iron Horse Park, a recreation area on their home base, Fort Carson, Colo., according to a staff sergeant who was present but whose name is blacked out on his sworn statement to investigators.
The Americans had convinced themselves, 10 years into a war whose successful outcome depended on empowering local security forces, that they could trust their Afghan colleagues. That was a deadly miscalculation in this instance and dozens more in the months that followed as growing numbers of Afghan troops turned their guns on their coalition partners.
As the attacks mounted this year, U.S. officials in Kabul and Washington insisted these were "isolated incidents." They routinely withheld details and, until pressed by the AP, did not publicly disclose attacks in which coalition troops were wounded but not killed.
At least 63 coalition troops — mostly Americans — have been killed, by the AP's count, and more than 85 wounded in at least 46 insider attacks so far this year. That's an average of nearly one attack a week. In 2011, 21 insider attacks killed 35.
The attack that killed Lawrence and Russell in the southern city of Kandahar was the 17th of 2011. Breaking it down in detail shows how easily it can be done.
The two officers and five other U.S. soldiers were inside a soft-skinned, tan-colored tent that served as a temporary "tactical command post" on an Afghan army base known as Old Corps Headquarters. Their task was to coordinate a security plan for the three-day peace conference at nearby Mandigak Palace. Their body armor was stacked in one corner, their weapons in another.
Their partners that day included liaison officers from Afghan security services, including the national intelligence agency and the army. The four liaisons excused themselves for the night and left the compound shortly before the attack. They had been working inside the tent and would have been in the line of fire had they stayed.
The Army investigator called this circumstance "worth noting," but he established no proof of complicity by the Afghan security officers.
An Afghan investigation concluded that only one soldier, a sergeant identified as Enayut (Afghans often use just one name) fired on the Americans, according to a summary of the probe, while the U.S. Army concluded there were two shooters.
Several U.S. soldiers recalled noticing two, possibly three, Afghans enter the compound about 9 p.m. They stood out because they were armed with one rocket-propelled grenade and at least one M16 rifle. At least one was wearing an Afghan army uniform, the report said. No one questioned them, since there was no screening requirement in place.
"They just walked in like they owned the place," a U.S. sentry at the compound's barricaded entrance told investigators afterward. Like others, his name was blacked out of the report.
In the moments that followed, hints of trouble were obscured by the appearance of normalcy.
At 9:02 p.m., just a few minutes after taking up his guard position at the front entrance of the command post tent, Spc. Paul A. LeVan was told he was being repositioned to a guard tower overlooking the compound. He was not replaced at the tent. There was no explanation as to why.
LeVan's sergeant led him to the empty guard tower, where, as a standard precaution, they discussed the locations of friendly forces in LeVan's line of fire. He was armed with an M249 light machine gun.
Soon, two of the Afghans who had entered the compound at 9 p.m. joined them in the tower. One was in military garb and, rather curiously, armed with a grenade launcher and one grenade. The other was unarmed and spoke English. LeVan's sergeant then left the tower and, upon entering the command tent, mentioned the grenade launcher to those inside, including an enlisted soldier who recalled later that the weapon seemed "out of the ordinary."
"But since (Afghan soldiers) were allowed to carry RPGs (rocket-propelled grenades), we did not give it much thought," the enlisted soldier, whose name was blacked out of the report, told investigators.
Another unidentified soldier said in the report that he, too, noticed the RPG and thought it "seemed reckless" to permit it inside the compound.
In his final report, the Army investigator found it curious that neither LeVan nor his sergeant challenged or questioned the two Afghans about "why a tower guard would have an RPG and no rifle."
LeVan, 21 at the time and a member of the 209th Military Police Company, said he assumed the Afghans were a properly assigned guard and his interpreter, although he noticed that the armed Afghan was avoiding eye contact and closely tracking movements inside the compound. LeVan shook hands with both men, but the veneer of friendliness soon vanished.
"I had a gut feeling that something was out of place," he told the AP in a telephone interview. He was the only American to witness the attack from start to finish.
Suddenly and without explanation the Afghans descended from the tower.
"I got nervous, so I kept a very close eye on the two men," LeVan told an Army investigator two days later.