Tessa leaned back on her heels and chuckled in her throat. “I remember. I miss them.”
“I’m taking you home, Tessa. Do you understand what I mean?”
She rose up on her knees and leaned toward him. The sound of panic rose in her voice. “No. I made a promise. I have to keep my promise first.”
“To who, Tessa?”
“To me,” came a disgruntled response from the door.
Darya stood in the doorway with his rifle at his side.
~ ~ ~
Massoud rested under the lean-to with the horses. He could smell their waste mixed with the stale hay he managed to drag up with his feet to make a nest. His hands were bound with leather and secured to a three-foot-long piece of iron chain attached to the wall. There remained enough give for him to sit rather than stand for hours.
His face hurt. Leaning into his bound hands, he managed to touch the dried blood around his nose. To see out of his one good eye remained difficult, which frightened him more than the Kyrgyz. What good would a blind Taliban leader be to the cause? His power would be stripped from him without a second thought. The image of becoming a burden or, worse, a beggar on the streets of Kabul, threatened his confidence. He thought back to earlier in the evening when the woman from the American government brought him food.
“Guess you should have been doing less talking and more listening.” Bonnie Finley set the cup of broth in front of him. She understood, maybe better than Massoud, his value lay in volunteering vital information. There was always the hope he would die at the hands of the crazy tribesman, Darya, who reminded her of a devil when dealing with the Taliban.
“Will you help me with the cup?”
Bonnie smirked. “No.” She put it in his bound hands. The sight of you struggling to sip from a cup gives me great pleasure. Not so tough now, huh, Massoud?”
Even then, he worked to manipulate the situation. “We can help each other.”
Bonnie sniffed. “I doubt it. But, go ahead. Enlighten me.”
“Why should the ambassador get such a large cut? I can eliminate him and you would take his share.”
Bonnie started for the door. “With you out of the way, I can take care of that little detail myself. Give my regards to Gitmo.”
“Wait.” He turned his head to get a better glimpse of her from his good eye. “I will tell the Americans the ambassador is dirty and you are involved.”
She paused and faced him, a forced laugh passing through her thin lips. “You are a desperate man. There is nothing to tie you to me.”
“The children know. The other woman knows. They both heard the words I spoke.”
Bonnie’s face turned hard. “Shirin is the only one who can speak and understand English to any degree. Do you think after you killed her young man, she’ll say anything on your behalf?”
Massoud frowned.
“And, as for my friend, she’s lucky to remember her name, thanks to your oversexed goat herders.”
“That should also be of interest to the military.”
Bonnie walked over and kicked the cup of hot juices onto his face. He let out a cry. “Not one word, Massoud, or I will make sure you become a test dummy for an accidental dose of the Ebola virus.” She kicked some manure into his lap. “Get used to that, too.”
Massoud fought shadows in his rage to get free for an attack on the woman. He heard her laughter as she strode away into the dark. Bucking up and down several times, he removed the manure chunks from his lap. A searing pain showed the punches he’d taken from the masked devil they called Darya may have busted a few ribs. His gut hurt, too. Remembering the big American standing by with cold unconcern gave him a moment to be grateful he wasn’t the one who landed the blows.
His breathing came fast with irritation at the government woman. He decided to focus on the American brute dressed like an Afghan. Why go to so much trouble? How had he found them? Did he search because of the government woman or maybe the children? Massoud hadn’t thought any of them important enough, but the Americans. They never seemed to tire of rescuing stray dogs who could someday turn and bite the hand feeding them. Understanding such emotion remained out of reach for him.
None of it mattered. Soon his men would come for him. Then the impertinent female would be put in her place.
~ ~ ~
Darya watched Captain Hunter stand then straighten to his full height. His sitting so close to Tessa angered him. She remained on her knees until Darya hurried to her side to help her stand.
“Get the girls together,” the man called Zoric shouted then began to shake them awake himself.
“What is it?” Chase grabbed his rifle.
“We’ve got movement about three hundred yards out, on the edge of the tree line.”
Darya switched his focus from Chase to Tessa. The terror on her face made him pull her to his side. “Listen to me.” He put his hands on each side of Tessa’s face. “I won’t let them get close, but you must protect yourself.”
“Darya,” she whispered. “I’m not sure I can.” Her hands went to each side of his waist.
He rested his forehead against hers. “Just keep the girls quiet. We will do what we can.”
Chase pulled out a Walther P-90 handgun then extended it to Tessa. Her brow creased. “Take it. Remember what I taught you.”
Tessa gingerly lifted it from his fingers then turned toward him.
“We practiced three times a week during your training,” Chase snapped. “Get a grip. I need to know if you can get the job done. You’re not helpless, so whatever is eating at you, get over it. We all have crap to deal with. Those kids need you to be on your game.” Tessa racked the slide of the weapon then lowered her hand to her side. “I got this.” Tessa pulled back her shoulders. “I got this,” she repeated.
Chase turned toward the door. “Well it’s about freakin’ time,” he growled.
Darya followed the man’s movements with eyes narrowed to slits. Did Tessa’s new posture, the determination on her face, indicate her memory had returned?
~ ~ ~
Tessa threw off her poncho-like robe and motioned for Bonnie to follow her to the children who were sitting up and rubbing their eyes. “Help me get them all together in the corner.”
Bonnie lifted sleepy children as instructed. In minutes, they were all together. “Miss Melanie!” Pointing at the gun with alarm, Shirin cringed. “What is wrong?”
Tessa went down on one knee. “Taliban.” A gasp escaped the child’s mouth as she cowered against the other girls. “We’ll be fine, Shirin. The helicopters will be here at first light. If we can hold out until then, we’ll be on our way to Kabul.” She reached out to stroke the girl’s cheek. “Can you help us with the little ones?”
Shirin jerked her head up and down nervously then swallowed a loud gulp.
“Bonnie and I will be right here, sweetheart.”
“Yes, Miss Melanie. I do it for you because you are brave like Darya and my Rashid.” Her words, although weak, reassured Tessa there would be an extra set of hands if needed.
The backdoor opened and Toiluk strode in, dragging Massoud by the collar. The bandit twisted his body in resistance as his feet pushed up clouds of dust from the floor. Toiluk, in spite of being a little taller than Tessa, jerked the man to his feet then shoved him against a wall where he toppled to the floor onto his side. As Massoud let loose a barrage of loud insults, Toiluk took a filthy rag from the floor then motioned him to open his mouth. Massoud responded by spitting at the Kyrgyz. In one swift movement, Toiluk stomped down on the man’s leg. A cry of pain opened his mouth wide enough for Toiluk to shove in the rag.
The man shook his head, trying to spit it free. Toiluk took out a knitted ski mask. After pulling Massoud to a sitting position, he put his boot on the man’s groin. The man instantly stopped squirming. With one quick movement, he pulled the mask over Massoud’s face. By this time, the Taliban leader’s chest rose and fell as if he couldn’t breathe. The Kyrgyz withdrew his
foot then strolled away.
The children fell back to sleep in minutes. Only Shirin remained vigilant. Bonnie covered them with the few blankets they’d brought before turning to Tessa.
“I want a gun, too.” She gestured to Massoud glaring at her through the openings of his ski mask. “If those goat herders come in, we may not be able to fend them off until the military gets here.”
Tessa grabbed her arm and pulled her aside. “Shush! You might wake Shirin and the others. I don’t want her to hear you. She’s been through enough. Do you even know how to use a gun?”
Bonnie rolled her eyes.
“That’s what I thought.”
“So why did Chase get in your face?”
“I believe I tend to push his angry buttons more times than not. If I remember right, we don’t always get along. He wants to tell me what to do. I promise to follow orders then try to find a way out of it.”
Bonnie sniffed. “Well if I’d thought I’d get that kind of attention from him in D.C., I would’ve been a lot more uncooperative.” She shifted her interested gaze to admire Chase’s backside. “If you know what I mean,” she whispered. “But the two of you aren’t…”
“No. I’m married.” Tessa bristled.
“Yes, I know. Two men and counting. Interesting dilemma.” The women stood watching the men standing at the windows. “So, is your memory still fuzzy, or are you good?”
“What do you care?” Before Bonnie could answer, Tessa moved toward Darya standing at the door.
He used the field glasses but at Tessa’s approach, he backed inside. She slipped her hands around his waist. He dropped one hand on hers then pulled her tight against him. He turned to glance over his shoulder at her. Her heart beat faster as she pressed against him.
“Tes-sa.” He said her name in the way that made it sound like music. “Tessa,” he breathed into her face then turned back to stare through a pair of field glasses. “A couple of hours before light. I think they’ll wait. They fear we hide in places they can’t see.”
“Darya,” she murmured in his ear. “The captain and I work together. Nothing else.” She felt his shoulders tighten. “I wanted to remember who I was. What I was. Seeing him helps me remember. Things are so much clearer now. I need you to understand.”
The tribesman who had literally ridden in on a white horse and saved her took a large breath, but remained silent. As Tessa pulled away, she let her hand trail down Darya’s hip and realized she wanted to make him happy. Maybe she felt a sense of obligation mixed with gratitude. But the warm affection she once carried for him had morphed into a burning turbulence.
The promise would be kept if they could make it back to Kabul.
Chapter 24
“I think they’ve hunkered down til first light.” Chase stood next to Darya. “Zoric and I can slip out the rear entrance, circle back around them. Pick ’em off one by one. There’s plenty of cover. Increase our chances.” He didn’t like not being in charge. His temperament, stretched to the limit, now threatened to boil over.
Tessa joined the tribesman, whispered in his ear, and walked away. Darya flashed him a broad smile. Chase wanted to rip something apart, the tribesman being at the top of the list.
Darya sobered, but held his gaze. Chase realized his intimidation tactics of invading a man’s personal space had little effect on the solemn-faced Kyrgyz. “No.” Darya’s voice sounded flat. “Too risky. If you are captured, then we come up short on firepower.”
“The risk is worth it.” Chase rolled his shoulders, feeling a tightness in his neck. “I don’t need your permission.”
Darya nodded then motioned outside.
Chase followed him through the doorway.
“Take two of the horses. You’ll get there faster.” Darya gave him directions as to how to circle back without being spotted. “I don’t like it. Massoud trains his men. They are smarter than most Taliban. Do not underestimate them.” As he turned to go back inside, he pointed toward the horses. “Go ready yourself.” Chase grabbed his arm. “Tessa needs to return to the States. This is no place for a woman like her.”
Darya jerked away.
“She already has a family. They want her back.” Chase stepped into his personal space again until their noses nearly touched. “If anything happens to her, I’m coming for you. Understand?”
Darya’s eyes narrowed to slits. “If anything happens to her, it will be because you didn’t do your job and I am dead.”
Darya stared at him a second longer before turning slowly to return inside.
~ ~ ~
Stealth can’t be achieved when riding nervous horses toward a Taliban encampment. Tying the reins to a clump of dead bushes, Chase and Zoric moved farther into humid darkness. The night air managed to cool their skin as sweat evaporated around their necks. They’d blackened their faces with soot then wrapped their heads with ragged scarves, and trickles of anticipation trailed down the backs of their necks and under their arms. To move over unfamiliar terrain, the black night lit by millions of stars, grew tedious, if not treacherous.
Over the years, Chase had relied on night vision goggles to assist in these kinds of situations. Having given his to the Kahn in Darya’s village, he let Zoric take the lead. The Serbian moved like a ghost through air void of any breeze. A rolling, misplaced pebble could sound like an explosion to an enemy anticipating trouble.
The smell of woodsmoke and burnt meat wafted to the two men hunkered down behind a rock not much bigger than themselves. After surveying the camp, Zoric handed Chase the goggles and he peered into the ebony curtain before first light.
“I see three at the fire,” Chase whispered.
The Serbian pointed to four bundles the length of a man around the fire. Chase held up seven fingers. The Taliban basked in the slumber both men wished they’d had before attempting this mission.
The standing guards stood rigid, holding rifles. Chase gave the sign for neutralizing them first. A few more signals and they had decided which sleeping and waking target each would take. Three quiet pops from their silencers and the Taliban fell into the fire then burst into flames. With knives unsheathed, they rushed toward the camp. Chase and Zoric froze on the perimeter. The lack of screams from the burning men put them on alert. They dropped to the ground to see if the sleeping men would react. No twisting or moaning to alert the others. Something was wrong but they had to keep going.
“Ready?” Chase mouthed the words to Zoric and both jumped to their feet and attacked the nearest men on the ground.
Their knives plunged deep several times before they moved to the next. After each stabbed two, they retreated to the cover of the rocks. Winded at the sudden escape, both men pressed their backs against a boulder while continuing to do a security scan of the area.
Chase gulped a breath. “Decoys.”
That explained the silent men falling into the fire. He guessed they created a makeshift cross with clothes draped around the exterior. The flames consumed them too fast. The rifles most likely were something left over from the Russian years. The bundles on the ground were nothing but stuffed grain sacks.
“Where are they?” Zoric stole a glance over the rock then hunkered back down, his shoulder touching Chase who readied his weapon.
“My guess is they’ve moved in on the village. They anticipated we might attack them during a vulnerable time. I see no signs of horses so they’re probably on foot.”
“If we reach the top of the ridge we would have a clear signal to get those birds to light a fire under Massoud’s men.” Zoric’s voice still remained a whisper in case someone remained behind to make trouble.
Chase transferred the radio earwig to Zoric. The eastern sky lightened. “I hope they’re on their way. Warn them there could be trouble. I’ll head back. Give me some time then follow. No use both of us going in blind.”
Gravel rolled down from somewhere above them. Both men ducked then gave a signal to separate and seek out the source of the noise. They m
oved akin to a hunting lion.
Taking the lead since he wore the night vision goggles, Chase saw the Afghan first. He peered over a ledge not more than ten feet above the camp. The nervous back and forth of his head indicated he searched to find whoever entered the camp. The fire blazed high enough to light the entire area. Zoric crept up behind him and slipped his six-inch blade under the man’s throat.
“Quiet,” Chase ordered, arriving at Zoric’s side. With a raspy intake of breath, the man trembled. Chase relieved him of his M16 and patted him down for any other weapons. “He’s clean.” He questioned the Afghan. “Are you alone?” Even though Chase spoke adequate Pashto, sometimes the dialect left a lot to be desired. He repeated. “Alone?”
The Afghan’s nervous nod resembled one of those bobble head toys at ballparks in the States. Zoric let his knife puncture the skin enough to force a whimper then let him fall backwards into the loose gravel. Chase jammed his boot into the man’s chest, which forced a gush of air from the man’s mouth. He tilted his head at Zoric who squatted next to him and gave a primal growl in his throat before licking his lips. The man’s eyes bulged as Zoric leaned in.
Zoric kept a small vile of red gel food coloring for moments needing a little more encouragement. He’d been called a vampire more times than he cared to remember. Times like these, it paid off. When Chase flashed his pen light at his partner’s face, red syrupy gel oozed from his mouth. The Afghan cried out and grabbed his heart.
“Where are the others?” Chase pressed his boot a little harder.
The Afghan whimpered louder as Zoric hopped closer on his bent legs. He let the red syrup drip onto the man’s chin then ran his finger through it, followed by sucking it off the Afghan’s face. The Serbian shook his head back and forth, moaning. Zoric fingered the man’s ears and neck, pinching at times then laughed deep in his throat.
“Easy, Zoric.” Chase reached down and rubbed his partner’s head like a beloved dog. “If he doesn’t talk, I will let you have him.” Chase removed his foot from the Afghan’s chest. The man pushed himself up to a sitting position and kicked at the gravel to back away, but Zoric followed on his hands and knees until he breathed into the man’s face.
The Enigma Series Boxed Set Page 93
