by Tony Lavely
“Relax!” Millie’s shout tempered the anger Beckie felt as she recognized the kick’s signature in the marks on Ian’s face. As she began to breathe again, Else caught her arm and gently faced her toward the window. “Better,” Millie said. “Thanks. What side? Was the skin broken anywhere besides the gunshot wound?”
“Thanks, Else.” She looked at Millie. “I remember thinking there was a lot of blood, so… maybe. My…” She stood with a snap, then walked to the window, but she wasn’t looking through it. Okay, you can do this. She turned her back to the glass. “My tears… they were washing some of it away while we were in the copter. But it kept… kept coming back.”
“Okay. Sit down. Outside if you don’t want to watch.”
Beckie waved her hand, aimlessly she feared. “I’ll stay. Go ahead, Else.”
Millie stood two feet from the display, looking at the large-as-life images. After the third time she asked Else to stop and replay a three second sequence, Else handed her the control and sat beside Beckie. After a moment watching the doctor, Else squeezed Beckie’s hand. She returned a tight smile.
After another fifteen minutes while Beckie and Else sat quietly, watching Millie examine the not-all-that-good picture, Millie turned and said, “Barbara saw Kevin, right?”
“At the house, before the police and ambulance took him to the hospital, yeah.”
“Okay, you can wait here, or whatever. I’m going to call her.”
Beckie nodded, wondering if this was another thing she shouldn’t be wasting time on. But, those guys… They knew just enough to be believable. And no more.
“Damn, Else, I just don’t know… Probably you should head back to work; I’ll be okay.”
“If you’re sure? I’ve got some questions from… from Barbara on that bank job. Interesting.” She began a recital of the things Barbara had sent back from her attempt to breach the bank’s security.
“Thanks.” Beckie snickered softly. “I’ll be fine, Else, I promise. Willie and I already reviewed Barbara’s work, up til yesterday morning, anyway. But I appreciate it. Now, get on with you; get Barbara what she needs. And when you get a free minute, keep looking at that web site, okay? See if we can learn anything about it.”
Beckie had no time to mope once Else left; Millie charged back through the door less than a minute later.
“Just a second,” she said a little breathlessly. She grabbed the control and began the routine of rewind and replay again. Beckie smiled at first, but since she had no clue what the doctor was focused on, the scene rapidly lost the little entertainment value it’d had. However, just before she rose to confront Millie for some… any… information, the doctor pitched the controller to the table, came around the end and dropped into the chair next to Beckie.
She spun the chair to face Beckie. “No guarantees, but… And this has no bearing on their condition now, today! No good evidence for Ian, but based on the injuries Barbara recalled, Kevin was… Well, I’d have thought way more than six months… but this came the end of March, right?”
Beckie was too stunned to answer; she nodded.
“That makes it six, almost seven months.” She leaned back in the chair. “He’s in pretty good shape, or he was, anyway. That might account for it. But, still, I’d guess that video was made just before you saw it.”
“Damn, Millie, that’s… that’s wonderful!”
“Yeah. Now don’t get all distraught because you didn’t ask before. Use the info and keep going.”
“I know. But—”
“No buts, hear!”
“Okay, okay. And as you said, it doesn’t give us any data about now. But it means I go to Karachi.”
“You sure? What will you do there?”
Beckie smiled. She’s put the point on it, I guess. What will I do there?
Don’t be silly. The only thing you can do: Meet with Leonid and his team. Depend on whoever to make a play.
Beckie collected Willie after leaving Millie; they put through a call to Doctor Smythe who agreed to arrange Beckie’s passage into Pakistan. However, he told them she shouldn’t plan to arrive before the following Monday. Beckie had a few choice words about the delay, but stifled them. “Won’t do any good to holler at the guy helping us,” she admitted to Willie with the phone muted. After they considered the flight schedules, Boynton booked her travel leaving Sunday and arriving very early the following Tuesday morning, Karachi time.
This Tuesday morning Beckie asked Boynton to join her on the lanai for breakfast. While he told her he’d finished his, he sat across the glass-topped table with tea.
“Sunday,” Beckie said, “Shalin and I talked about hiring a wet nurse or maybe two for Ralf. Since I am not going to take him to Pakistan, and I’m not ready to wean him, either. She told me the imam in Nassau might have contacts. Talk to her and then Shen. Since they’d move in here—we do have the room, I guess?”
He nodded slowly. “She and I discussed it while you were busy. If the doctors’ checks are satisfactory, and all else works out, we will have a couple with their baby, and an unmarried teen and her son. Both babies are within a week or two of Ralf. Shen has begun the checks. Rou will put the couple on Sud; the girl will move in here, just beside the Bright Room.”
“Wow! Pretty quick work; thank you.”
He smiled. “More on Shalin’s behalf, I think. And the imam. He seems highly motivated to… improve the circumstances for those who haven’t had many advantages.”
“Thanks. And make a note to talk about how else we might be able to help, not only these but—”
“Done.”
A few words instructed Else to respond to any messages from the web site with her plans. To fill the remaining time, she cared for Ralf, exercised and worried if she would be able to do any good. And what it might mean for Ian and Kevin. Every day, she met Shalin for lunch, where in addition to Shalin’s decaffeinated iced tea, Shalin updated the progress of the two wet nurses, Angel and Tamasha. “Shen’s almost ready to approve them, and both Roberta and Moriko are happy with the medical reports. They should be here just after you leave. Or would you stay to meet them?”
Beckie almost choked on the tea she was swallowing. I should, I guess. But it’ll delay another day, maybe two. And… Be honest, Beck. You’re afraid you’ll hate them and back out of the deal. Yeah. I’m not… “I’d like to, really, but I want to get going to find Ian and Kevin, too.” She pulled her pony tail around and played with it. I did get to Skype them; that was good. She smiled inside. Wonder if Shalin’ll figure me out this time, too. “So, we’ll keep the schedule and I’ll put my son in your hands… When Amy’s not around, anyway!”
“Or Cori, more likely! Okay. We’ll be fine.”
Chapter VII: Surab Base, Pakistan
One: Al-Shazar’s Meeting
AL-SHAZAR SWORE UNDER his breath. Don’t these idiots remember? Apparently not. He settled the pistol on his hip. The meeting outside Quetta had come to an abrupt end when he stood and stomped out of the tent, his hand clenching his M1911A1’s grip. Inside the old Mercedes Rezaei had provided, he stretched against the seat, feet hard into the footwell.
Tomorrow, he thought. No. I’ll send a message tomorrow, to meet again next week. What do you expect to be different, then? The damn chief will show up, that’s what!
His phone chirped. He’d been ignoring it for the past several minutes, but now he slid it out of his pocket. Kalil wanted to talk to him again. What now?
Once the connection was made and the obligatory challenges complete, Kalil said, “The woman Jamse has responded that she will arrive in Karachi as soon as she may. Also, as you predicted last week, the tracker is in the Bahamas. The controllers say they believe the girl wears it still. They are curious…”
Al-Shazar smiled. A corner of his mind watched the war lords leave the tent and the area, but that was simply self-preservation. “First, I need photographs. Then we can discuss the tracker. Don’t hesitate; things will move quickl
y once we begin. And Kalil, make sure that no information is sent to the Jamse woman.”
Before heading south to Surab, Al-Shazar described the items he would require to bully Rebecca Jamse into doing his bidding, then demanded Kalil bring them into existence. “Of course you can use whoever you need! The letters should come from Boufel, to match the earlier one. The photos… Keep that work in our group.”
Two: Beckie’s Meeting
Beckie found Juri Mulka directly outside the exit from Customs and Immigration at Karachi’s Jinnah International Airport. While the formalities hadn’t been completely dispensed with, they’d taken less than an hour. She made a note to thank Smythe, and also thanked Juri as they walked to his dirty white pickup.
As they drove away, she told Juri she’d thought the day of travel time included the ride from the airport to their base near the site. It took but a moment for him to disabuse her of that idea, though he apologized that Leonid had left that impression. “We now begin a five hundred kilometer journey,” Juri said as he followed the signs to the west, toward Gwadar. “At least some of the roads have been improved. Those on the way to Gwadar; they want them to be excellent. The N25 runs north to a dusty little place called Surab.” He avoided a wildly ornamented truck cruising in the center of the road. “We should arrive about…” He glanced at his watch. “… eight.”
Beckie woke her phone. Two AM local. A six-hour ride. “What festivities are planned?”
He laughed aloud. “With luck, Beth will have coffee ready. We’ll hope that’s the only welcome. Try to get some sleep.”
Her phone said Juri hit his target; at just before eight, the pickup rolled to a stop in Surab, in the street outside a two-story building. “Base,” Juri said with a smile and a more grandiose wave than the building deserved.
Beckie recalled that Leonid had located it after they’d lost the first satellite system to a quick raid by the local populace. While the sat phones worked, getting a lot of data took too long; the fixed receiver and associated dish antenna provided faster internet access. The building had come at a reduced rental because much of the roof had been blown away, reducing its utility as a domicile. For the team however, it was perfect for their antenna.
Inside, Beth was effusive in her welcome. Unfortunately, the coffee wasn’t of such high quality, and before even finishing, Beth directed her to the small space she would use for sleeping.
Sleep had been no better than fitful when Beth rapped on her door to get her moving. Beckie’s phone showed that she’d napped for three whole hours.
In the kitchen room of the building, Beth again offered coffee and bread—wouldn’t do to call it a pastry—and words to go by. “The guys Leonid’s bringing, names Rezaei and Khan, are tribal leaders. I’m sure you know about the rebels here, the Baluchistan Liberation Army is one of the names, but these guys are just tribal leaders. As such, they have pull with their own people, but nobody else.”
“Makes sense. I do remember about the rebels,” Beckie said. “But I don’t know who said that pretty much everyone in Baluchistan could be aligned with the BLA.”
“Yes, if the situation was right, everyone except an actual Pakistan Army soldier, probably, could line up with them. It’s a pretty popular position, here.”
“More than Islamabad, I guess.”
Beth laughed. “Yeah. But the point I wanted to make is for the guys Leonid’s bringing, they haven’t reached that point. They’re not gonna be part of the resistance, yet.”
“So how many… followers do they have? And are they working together, do we know?”
“Under a hundred, Leonid thinks. Each. And so far, they are joined in wanting to stop the dig, but there’s no good reason for that. Part of your job. Good luck!”
“Good luck for sure! How about a little more coffee?”
Her cup filled, she waited in the front room. Probably nine by twelve, Leonid had wasted no money on furnishings. A scarred wooden table marked the room’s center; a half-dozen straight chairs were arranged along the walls. Beckie chose one next to a side table and contemplated her drink. Beth remained in the kitchen, “Out of the way.”
As she sipped her mug of the clearly not Starbucks brew, one of the team’s beat-up pickups careened to a stop in the street out front. She stood and watched as Leonid and Fedor alighted and after a look up and down the street, waved out two more men. One wore a typical tan thobe and keffiyeh; the other had a more local appearance, at least as Beckie recalled it, wearing an off-white shalwar kameez. Also typical, he was dark, wearing an embroidered Baluchi cap.
The four men hurried into the building, and Beckie was face to face with them.
The newcomers froze on seeing her, mouths agape and brows raised. Beth’s “Out of the way” made better sense now. Damn, do I have to go through this again? They ignored her expression of disgust and spun to accost Leonid.
A spate of Arabic ensued between the two men and Leonid. It lasted almost until Beckie was ready to grab shoulders and force her way into the conversation, but Leonid gave what Beckie believed to be a command; the two men took chairs against the blank wall and moved them out of the view through the window.
“Amir Khan and Karem Rezaei…” Leonid waved to the men in turn as he introduced Beckie. “… are here to meet with us and with Doctor Smythe’s adjunct, Doctor Chouj Khalid. I arranged for them to talk over the issues and attempt to come to a resolution before we shed blood. Any of us.”
Beckie relaxed as Leonid spoke. This is his job; he’s doing it. “That’s excellent,” she said even as she allowed her face to show a more forbidding mien. “I take it, even without speaking their language, they are… uncomfortable with me just sitting in the room.”
Leonid chuckled, a little ruefully. “Well, they did accuse me of having a serving girl at their meeting. I disabused them of that. Their biggest problem is that they’ve never seen a woman as their equal, or as one who has power over them. And they aren’t happy to see it now.”
“I assume their English is better than my Arabic?”
“Sufficient that we can have almost all the meeting in it. While Khan would prefer Urdu, Rezaei, wearing the thobe… he’s fluent in Russian, but not in Urdu. So there’s no better choice, I think.”
“Okay, okay! I’ll begin language courses as soon as I get back. For now…”
“For now, they will probably ignore you in favor of me and Chouj.”
Beckie nodded. “That’ll work. I wouldn’t have been here anyway, all other things being equal, which they never are.”
Beside Leonid, Fedor leaned forward. “Any word on… on the other?”
Other? I guess he means Ian and Kevin. “Nothing you’re not up to date on.”
They all sat still, except that Leonid poured himself tea after offering it around.
Before he’d finished the cup, Tarquin arrived, along with Chouj, whom he introduced. He started with Khan and Rezaei, and had a half-apologetic expression when he got to Beckie.
“Mrs. Jamse, this is Doctor Chouj Khalid, speaking for Doctor Smythe at this meeting.”
“I hope you are not as… dismayed, I think, as my other esteemed guests,” she said with a smile and a head dip toward the two locals, sitting straight-faced and gloomy. “A pleasure to meet you.” She offered her hand; they shook.
Leonid and the others were waiting; she pressed Chouj toward the remaining chair and moved herself behind Leonid and Fedor.
Leonid began with a question addressed to Khan and Rezaei: “What do you fear the archeologists will do? Or is it that they may discover something? Can you describe your concerns?”
Khan looked at Rezaei, but Beckie didn’t see any particular import in the glance. Rezaei returned it and Khan responded. “We bring several issues, issues important to our community.” Beckie reached for her phone to make a note. While the man glared, in a moment he continued. “We wish the site to remain undisturbed. The digging and removal of artifacts and things sacred to our beliefs c
annot be permitted.”
That’s pretty clear. And not a lot of room for negotiation there.
Chouj leaned into the conversation. “Some of your country’s officials will permit the excavation subject to any discoveries being treated with respect. We do not expect any remains beyond bones. Anything of that nature, something that does not match our expectations, would bring our work to a halt while we reassess the situation.”
“Why would there be no remains?”
“Our anticipation is that the structure the children discovered and potential other features date from four to six thousand years ago. Bones may survive, or mummies, but little else. Even in other burying grounds, in Harappa, for example, this is so.”
“That may be…” Rezaei’s eyes flashed, his jaw tense. “Bones are not my concern. The mullahs worry that you may… reveal… forbidden objects. False idols! That you desire to uncover and display such. It is against Islam!”
This might be a harder sell than I thought… I remember news reports a while back describing antiquities being destroyed. But that was in Iraq. Is Daesh moving here? Yeah, Sher worried about that, though not from this angle. She kept her chagrin from coloring her expression.
In the meantime, Chouj remained quiet. Collecting his thoughts? That did make Beckie smile, just a hint, but she directed her attention to her knees to avoid being spotted.
“As it may be,” Chouj finally said. “I am not here to discuss the beliefs and concerns of the mullahs. Our expectation is that the site is sufficiently ancien that we will find nothing to concern you. Nor do we expect to discover… false idols of any description.” That’s an interesting look he has. Kind of a mix of disgust, sneering and… hope.
Khan reiterated his objection. “The digging, however…”
