“Abdul has told me how you saved him from Massoud. We are grateful.” The khan’s hand spread out toward his people then came to rest on his heart. “His mother and I are grateful.”
Chase raised his chin in acceptance, but did not speak. He wanted to make sure he understood every word. His Pashto didn’t get enough practice of late.
“You will eat and drink tea with us tonight. This land is not safe for you.”
“We are searching for two American women and some children from a village your son”— he shifted his eyes toward Abdul—“visited a few days ago. We’ve come to take them back so they will not be a burden to you any longer.”
“American women and children?” The khan tried to curl his pencil-thin mustache around his fingers.
So they had entered the game of discovery and barter. It would open with ignorance of the truth followed by navigation toward a price for what was desired. Chase informed the khan of the government woman’s importance and if she didn’t return to Kabul soon, the big helicopters would bring soldiers to find her.
The khan grinned mischievously. “Let them come. We could use some help. Would they help us build a road?”
“No. They would frighten your animals away. We will trade for the women and children, Khan, if you will let us see them. They are of no use to you. Your men saved them and my government will be generous.”
The khan continued to rub his chin and walked around the Jeep again. “I want a car.”
Chase paused for effect before speaking. “Would the Khan be pleased with my car?”
The Khan threw up his hands. “We eat and drink tea first before we trade.”
“I need to see the women.” Chase’s voice had turned cold.
The Khan frowned. “And I need a road. It appears neither of us will get what we want so fast.” He turned away and motioned toward the women. “First. Food.”
Zoric muttered, “He’s stalling.”
“I’ve got a bad feeling about this,” Chase mumbled as he followed Abdul to a campfire.
Chapter 19
I t had become more than a habit, the constant evaluation of his surroundings. Every rock tumble, wind shift, or animal grunt meant change. Some changes in life were considered therapeutic, but here change could spell death. Being observant had served Chase Hunter well over the years. Never one to tempt fate, he’d managed to dodge a bullet several times after taking note of his environment, or maybe the changes in it.
The tribesmen sat around the fire. Several smoked opium. This harsh land bestowed almost no reward, offered tremendous pain, and a constant struggle to stay alive. He guessed the opium took the edge off the crippling arthritis he noticed in some of the older ones. The younger men didn’t appear to partake but stared into the fire or carried on a mumbled conversation with others who sat nearby. Their stolen glances darted to him, and Zoric followed by rapid speculation and even a few grins. Those gestures concerned Chase. Trying to determine if the delay meant being detained in order to hide Tessa and the others kept him shifting his weight where he sat.
“Khan, we need to talk trade now. I want to see the women and children your men brought here.” Chase snuck a glance at the other women who whispered to each other shyly. Their slightest move made light tinkling sounds lift from their clothing. Since the younger girls wore red scarves over their heads, he surmised the white head coverings denoted a married woman. The sight of small children going to them for care reinforced the thought.
The khan puffed on his pipe. Chase didn’t care if the opium cloud floating around the leader’s head delayed the trade. He inhaled the pungent smell, wishing it affected his expectations in a positive way.
“I first will tell you a story about the Kyrgyz.”
Chase wanted to groan with impatience, but knew to show respect for the khan’s words as if they moved heaven and earth. He didn’t catch a lot of it. They were stories about the past, history mixed with embellishments of truth. At certain points, some of the men appeared to make light of the story, and at other times the khan would argue with them over the truth.
Whether because of Chase’s rigid posture, flaring nostrils or jaw which clenched over and over, the khan decided to get down to business.
“You have the face and hands of Kyrgyz.” The khan pointed to the Mongol shape of Chase’s dark eyes.
“I’m a Native American. Cherokee Tribe.”
The khan bobbed his head in approval. “I do not know this tribe, but it is good. And do the Americans treat your tribe as the Afghan treat the Kyrgyz?”
“The government took our land and made my people walk the Trail of Tears in winter. Many died trying to go. Some stayed and fought. My family fought and won.”
The khan grunted an approval as did the other men. “I like this story. We are poor living up here on the roof of the world. But we are free to do as we please. This makes us rich.” He turned toward the women for a few seconds before continuing. “But our children die young without medicine. When my father took me to Mecca, I prayed for a road to bring a doctor for us. We could have a teacher and the things men have in other parts of the world. But I think this would only bring men who want to take us away.”
Chase knew it had already happened. Some of the Kyrgyz had already been relocated to public housing in Turkey. Their children played rap music, watched TV, and played video games instead of working to make life cohesive for their families.
“The khan is wise. Be careful what you wish for.”
“I like your words. Now.” He set his pipe down and called for one of the men. A man in his late twenties tossed the khan his phone. “We get down to business.”
“Where are the American women and the children? I do not see them.”
“We trade. I want your car and the gasoline to run it. I give you two horses.”
“I want the women and children.” Chase shook his head. “I must see them before I trade anything. I want to see for myself they are well.”
“They were welcomed into our homes.”
Chase looked around him. “Then where are they?”
“The car for the women. I give you two horses. Long way back to Kabul.”
“No deal. I don’t believe you have them. I am done talking.”
The khan pushed some buttons on the phone. “Here are some pictures of the American women and the children.” He handed the phone to Chase.
The first picture showed little girls dressed in their drab Afghan clothing. They were dirty and appeared frightened and shy on the phone camera. The next picture of the girls, in their new red dresses, couldn’t hide their transformation into happy children. Chase saw two who looked as if they were laughing. The color agreed with them.
The next picture showed Bonnie Finley sitting on the ground, eating with several. Her clothes were plain. The camera had snapped the image through firelight so it couldn’t reveal her physical condition. He could tell by the frown her temperament bordered on miserable.
The last picture of a muscular man standing in the doorway of a yurt gave him pause. His black shirt had not been laced up, and his jagged dark hair must have been chopped by an ax. His features were Kyrgyz-like except he stood taller and bigger than these guys. Chase brought the camera up for closer inspection at seeing the woman standing next to him. Her gaze up into his face startled him. Wearing a long red tunic over a red skirt didn’t hide her bare feet. The white head scarf slid to the back of her neck. He felt his lungs empty of air as he noticed her hands were on his side and abdomen in a personal fashion. The man stared down at her the way he often had when she wasn’t watching. It bordered on worship.
“Tessa,” he whispered.
Zoric grabbed the phone from Chase’s hand. “Mother of God, what have they done to her?”
Chase could feel his pulse increase. What had they forced her to do? Who stood holding her in the doorway?
Zoric handed the phone back to the khan. “Who is the man with the American woman?”
The khan took the phone and pretended to see the picture for the first time. “Her husband. He saved her from the Taliban and she very grateful. I made him pay one hundred sheep and two horses for her.” The khan chuckled as did the other men. “I think he would have paid more. But…” The khan shrugged. “But I have a soft spot for him. His mother was my sister, so I take the sheep and horses.”
“Where are they now?” Chase made an effort to keep his voice calm as if he didn’t care and understood the art of a deal.
“Gone. They leave yesterday. Take children and government woman back to Kabul.”
“And what about the other woman, the one in the picture with the man who bought her? Is she with them?”
“Yes, of course. Kyrgyz men do not leave their women behind to run about. This is stupid. Besides, I think he likes being married.”
“The Jeep is yours with all the gasoline. There’s an extra car battery in the backseat. We’ll also leave a spare tire. In return, I want two horses, supplies, and directions on how to reach them.
“And why should I do this? I could take the car.” His devilish smirk faded to a straight line.
Chase took a deep breath. He felt the khan wanted to sound in charge rather than appear threatening. The old man liked the art of negotiation. “Because you are an honorable man who has shared his home with strangers. I believe the Taliban will try and attack them. Your son can explain. I want to leave at first light. Will this be possible?”
The khan pulled the pipe away from his lips as a cloud of opium smoke circled his head. “I agree to the terms. I will send two of my men to lead the way. My nephew took a secret way to be safer for children. Once you find them, you can take charge of the government woman and the girls. Then my men can return.” Chase didn’t mention Tessa would in no way return to the camp.
The khan pointed his pipe at Chase then narrowed his eyes. “The woman with gold hair is Kyrgyz now. You cannot change this. Her husband will fight to the death to keep her. It is best you not try and stop him. He is not as reasonable as me.”
Chase clenched his jaw tight so not to say something he would regret.
“He kills many Taliban. You? Not a big problem. Besides, I think the woman likes us.” The khan turned to his people and laughed.
Chase stood. “I understand, Khan. My friend and I will rest now. Our journey is long.”
“So be it.” The khan waved them off toward a yurt where they could spend the night.
~ ~ ~
Darya had pushed the children so hard, they were exhausted, irritable, and difficult to manage. Even the horses grew unresponsive so it became unsafe to have the children ride. Three friends of Darya volunteered to tag along: Rashid, the young man who made his intentions known concerning Shirin, Toiluk, and another villager.
Tessa and Bonnie each rode her own horse. Each adult carried one child except Darya who transported little Arzo and Pamir. Shirin rode behind Tessa by choice. She’d become afraid of the young man who offered her more attention than she’d ever had from a man. The harsh land he wanted to share with her had removed any romantic notions she once carried.
Horseback riding drew complaints from Bonnie. She demanded to stop so she could rest but Darya ignored her. After her face became etched with pain, Tessa came alongside Darya to request some time.
“We are near shelter.” He tugged on the reins of his horse which caused it to prance impatiently. Arzo squealed and Pamir buried her face in his back. Tessa caught him slipping his arm around the littlest child to hold her tight. With the reins in his teeth, he reached back to make sure Pamir remained secure. “Just another kilometer or so.” He spoke through clenched teeth. “We cross the river. There will be a large cave for us to spend the night. We have come down several thousand meters, so it will not be as cold.”
“Thank you, Darya.” Tessa offered him a warm gaze as he moved away.
The river meandered in a peaceful flow where the group stopped to cross. The sounds of rapids nearby spoke of peril if they weren’t careful. Although not very wide, it proved deep enough the horses needed to swim. She hoped they weren’t too tired. The little girls swung their feet out to keep them dry. Tessa waited for Bonnie to follow Darya’s two friends before urging her horse into the icy waters. The mare rebelled to go back, but Tessa kept her going forward with a strong hand. She could see Darya move his animal into the water without the problems she experienced.
As Tessa neared the point of no return, the horse started to struggle. The mare’s ears lay back and her head thrashed. When an otter jumped off a nearby rock, creating a splash, the horse reared up, throwing Shirin into the icy water.
Tessa maneuvered the horse toward her but managed to create more chaos. “I’m coming, Shirin. Keep your head up.” She reached down to catch Shirin’s hand. In a panic, Shirin pulled her into the water. Both of them floated downstream toward rapids.
Shirin shrieked and grabbed Tessa by the neck, and they sank under the surface.
When their heads bobbed back up, Tessa sucked in so much air she choked. “Shirin, turn me loose so I can help you.” After being pushed under again, she broke the surface and spat mouthfuls of water. “Stop!”
Tessa struggled against the pull of accelerating water, the roar of the rapids deafening her. She missed hearing the splash of horses as a tunnel of swift water collided against boulders ahead of them. Then the young man who fancied Shirin appeared, the water up over the belly of his horse. He reached down as easily as a trick rider in a circus and grabbed the girl. Tessa gulped more water and sank under again, but an arm circled her neck and was towed back toward shore until her feet touched bottom.
She crawled out onto the rocky shore with determined assistance from Darya’s strong hands. He staggered then fell on his knees next to her as she rolled over onto her back. The little girls rushed to her side and fell upon her with open arms, crying.
Tessa chuckled between spits of water. “I’m okay.” She patted each of them. “I’m okay.” She even managed to kiss Arzo, who cried like a baby. The three-year-old released Tessa to steal a look at Darya. He offered a half grin then motioned for her to come to him. When the mountain tribesman gathered Arzo into his warrior arms, something inside Tessa lurched. The sight of such a man comforting the most helpless touched her in a way she hadn’t expected.
“Miss Melanie.” Shirin rushed to her side and fell down beside her. When she threw her weight against her in an embrace, Tessa fell backwards. “You should not have come to save me. I almost killed you. I’m so sorry, Miss Melanie. I do not know how to swim.” Shirin bestowed a grateful look of admiration up at the young man who still held the reins of his horse in hand. He appeared to be shaken, too. “He saved me, Miss Melanie.”
Darya stood then reached down to pull Tessa to her feet and into his arms. “I had to put the girls on land before I come for you. You all right?” He rested his lips against her forehead. It felt natural. It felt right.
Tessa sniffed like one of the little girls, trying to hold back tears of relief that would only frighten the children further. Darya rocked her in his arms and pulled her tighter to his chest. When he did, Tessa caught sight of Bonnie standing several feet from the fray with her weight shifted to one hip and her hands clutching at her heart. The creases on the once-classic face made her appear older. Tessa couldn’t decide if being soaking wet caused her to shiver or if it was the look of apathy on Bonnie’s face. The realization Bonnie Finley cared more about being able to escape than Tessa’s survival made her feel a sense of caution.
They gathered around a small fire in the cave opening as darkness fell. Tessa told the girls about what school might be like in America. They wanted her to sing but Darya had warned against it, saying the Taliban might have a scout. The little girls understood, as they always seemed to, and fell asleep in each other’s arms under coarse woolen blankets. After kissing them each goodnight, Tessa returned to the fire.
Bonnie edged closer to her after throwing some t
wigs on the low blaze. “Where’s your husband?” The tone sounded condescending. “Run to the market for milk?”
Tessa stole a glance out the opening of the cave to see the four Kyrgyz men talking in whispers among themselves. “If you’ve got something to say, Bonnie, now is the time.” Her body ached and she didn’t have the strength for verbal combat.
“First, let me say, good job on taking one for the team, Tessa.” Her clenched teeth appeared through a forced smile, exhibiting evil in the glow of the firelight. “I didn’t think Darya could be so easily persuaded. That must have been some wedding night.”
Tessa didn’t trust the woman enough to tell her the truth. She peered over her shoulder at the children who were already breathing deep with sleep.
“So what did you do to get him to take us back?” Bonnie smirked. “Guess you’re not the Goody-Two-Shoes I first thought. Clearly, he is smitten with you. He dove in after you like a crazy man this afternoon.” Bonnie sighed. “Heaven knows what would have happened to us if you drowned.”
Tessa leveled an incredulous frown at Bonnie. “You mean to you. I’m sure the girls are the least of your concern. All you want is to get back to take revenge on the ambassador.” Bonnie curled a lip in a snarl. “You need to work on your people skills and make better choices in the men you sleep with.”
“Maybe you can let me in on your kinky techniques as to how I get a renegade Kyrgyz to bend to my every wish. Now that’s something I could use,” she hissed. “Don’t act all holier-than-thou with me, Tessa. You’re nothing but an adulteress. You sold your self-respect to rescue these kids who won’t even remember you two weeks after we’re gone.”
“You act like I had a choice,” she snapped loud enough for the four men to turn and peer inside. When they turned away, Tessa continued. “I made the best of a bad situation.” She felt guilty about deceiving Darya but not Bonnie. “I’m not proud of what I’ve done.”
“So what is going to happen when we get back to Kabul?” Bonnie whispered maliciously into her ear. “Are you going to stab him or shoot him?”
The Enigma Series Boxed Set Page 89
