by Gary Jonas
I stared at him, but didn't respond.
He pulled a glove from his back pocket and pulled it onto his right hand as he walked over to Brenda. Then he lifted her chin so he could stare into her eyes. “My dear,” he said, “I now return your freewill, but I command you to never lift a finger to harm me or kill me.”
She blinked a few times.
“You all right, Brenda?” I asked.
“Yeah, but I can't punch this bastard.”
“As you can tell,” Victor said, pulling off the glove, “I'm not concerned about her hurting my feelings. If I grant Kelly the same freedom, will that be acceptable or should I have her snap your neck now?”
“When you put it that way, I accept your terms.”
CHAPTER FOURTEEN
Farrukh smiled when he saw us. We met him at a place called the Public Pub because when he met with Brenda, he assured her they could speak English, Russian, and Tajik here. The sign on the building included the English name. He thought we'd feel more at home there, as the place had the ambiance of an Irish pub. The wooden floor had red runner rugs by the bar, and circular tables with chairs. The chairs didn't have cushions, but that was all right. In one section, the light fixtures were made from old bottles of beer, whiskey, and rum. In another section, the ceiling was lined with international flags. The walls were red with green baseboards. I was pleased to see that they had menus in English, which made things much easier for us.
“Behruz will be here soon, but he said to eat without him,” Farrukh said. “You sit. Have a Heineken.”
He directed us to a table. I saw signs for Guinness, so I knew what I wanted. Esther floated up to the ceiling to keep an eye out for any trouble. She kept herself invisible to all but me.
The waiter was a middle-aged man in a short sleeve plaid shirt. He approached the table and Farrukh told him we spoke English.
“Welcome to the Public Pub,” the waiter said. “If you have any questions, I will be happy to answer them. May I bring you something to drink? Primator is popular, or if you'd prefer something local, we have Sim Sim.”
He didn't have much of an accent, so I suspected he'd spent some time in the States. College, perhaps?
“I'll try the Sim Sim,” Kelly said.
“Heineken,” Brenda said.
“Guinness,” I said.
“A Guinness would be nice, thank you,” Victor said.
“Water, please,” Farrukh said.
There were a few customers at other tables, and several more at the bar, but it was early, so I suspected the place would fill up later that evening. The waiter brought our drinks, and we ordered some food. After we finished dinner, and ordered another round of drinks, I turned to Farrukh.
“Any idea when Behruz might show?” I asked.
“He should have been here already.”
Kelly raised an eyebrow and mouthed, “Men of Anubis?”
I shook my head. There was no way they could have erased Behruz before we even met him. Well, they could have, but that would mean we'd already failed to beat them. Right? I didn't like that idea, and decided they would have come for us already if that were the case, so we must have a fighting chance.
“Is he often late?” I asked.
“Oh, no,” Farrukh said, “he is always prompt.”
But from his tone, I knew this was par for the course for old Behruz.
“Right,” I said. “Is he coming?”
“Oh, he will be here. He wants the job.”
“Maybe we should go ahead and hire someone through the airport,” I said.
“No, no, no,” Farrukh said. “Behruz is an excellent pilot, and he will give you a much better price. One price for all, not extra fares for each person. Oh, here he comes now.” Farrukh waved his arms.
A large man in a kaftan stepped into the pub. He staggered to the left a bit then found his balance. He looked at the people at each table until he spotted Farrukh, who was still waving. With an exaggerated smile, he stumbled in our direction. He bumped a chair, and turned to hold out his hands as if he could magically stop it from falling over. It didn't fall, but magic had nothing to do with it as it hadn’t moved more than two inches. He gave his head a shake, ran a hand down his beard then noticed Farrukh again.
He said something in Tajik.
“English, please,” Farrukh said.
Behruz held up a finger. “Me English speak.”
Farrukh moved behind Behruz and began massaging his shoulders as he guided him to our table. “These are the nice people I was telling you about. They wish to book passage to and from Moskvina Glade.”
He shook his head. “They no customers?”
“Yes, they are customers. Paying customers who need to ride in the helicopter with you. They do not read Tajik, so I have written terms in English.” Farrukh removed a piece of paper from his pocket. He placed it on the table.
“No read?” Behruz asked.
“They read English only,” Farrukh said with a nod. “So I wrote the agreement in English, not Tajik.”
He smiled. “No read the Tajik,” he said. His eyes were so bloodshot I was surprised he could keep them open.
“I apologize for Behruz. His English is not the best. I will read the agreement to him in Tajik if that is acceptable to you.”
“Sure,” I said.
He picked up the paper and spoke in Tajik as he ran a finger down the page.
Behruz smiled wider. “Terms good,” he said.
Victor snatched the paper from Farrukh and scanned it. “This price seems a bit off.”
“You are the only passengers and it is a charter flight. Therefore it is more expensive,” Farrukh said. “However, the same flight would cost much more if you arranged it at the airport.”
“True,” Victor said. “Shall we pay you now?”
“No,” Farrukh said. “Pay half tomorrow when you fly.”
“Will Behruz be sober by then?” I asked.
Farrukh gave me an apologetic smile. “I will see to it personally, Mr. Shade. You will pay the other half when he picks you up after your climb. Do you have much gear? Behruz has some cargo to deliver to the camp.”
“We don't need much room,” Victor said.
Behruz laughed and patted Farrukh on the shoulder. He said something in Tajik.
“English,” Farrukh reminded him. “And no, you do not need another drink. You need coffee and sleep.”
“If he's in this kind of condition tomorrow, I'm not flying,” Brenda said.
“Oh come on,” Kelly said. “It'll be an adventure.”
“That's what scares me.”
“Did you find us a guide?” I asked.
Farrukh nodded. “Pavel Kuznetsov is already at the camp. I spoke with him yesterday before you missed our meeting, and he agreed to stay on to lead you. He will expect payment, and he has five men who will also expect payment. One, his brother Yuri, is also a guide, and the other men are, how you say, baggage carriers?”
“Close enough,” I said.
“I must get Behruz home so he can sleep and be ready for the flight. Meet him at the address on the paper. You must sign the paper and give it to Behruz before you board the helicopter.”
The papers didn't worry me, but the pilot's sobriety did.
When Farrukh and Behruz left, Kelly shook her head. “Well, at least he wasn't erased by the Men of Anubis.”
“I'm not sure that's a good thing,” I said.
CHAPTER FIFTEEN
The private airfield turned out to be a farm outside of town. A small house, more of a shack really, stood on the property with wheat fields all around it. I wasn't sure it was the right address, but the cab driver assured us it was. He dropped us off and helped us unload our gear then he took off.
Victor stood under his umbrella to keep himself in shadow. He walked with me to the porch. Kelly and Brenda sat down on the suitcases to wait. Esther shot ahead of us to check out the interior of the shack.
“I don't see a h
elicopter,” I said.
“I also don't see a hangar for a helicopter,” Victor said.
“This may be a scam. There may be people in the house waiting to rob us.”
“The price they asked for was very low,” Victor said.
Esther popped in front of me, remaining translucent.
“There's a Jane inside, and your drunk pilot. He's in bed.”
“Nothing threatening?” I asked.
“It's all berries.”
“Threatening?” Victor asked.
“Sorry, Esther just told me the house is safe.”
“Ah, the ghost. Nifty little trick she has to be visible or invisible at will.”
“Comes in handy,” I said.
“I'll keep that in mind.”
I knocked on the front door.
A woman answered. Like so many others, she wore a green tunic with gold embroidery, and while it might once have been nice, the sleeves were frayed and the material faded. She said something in Tajik.
“We're here for Behruz,” I said.
She nodded at the name, and closed the door.
“I guess we wait here,” I said.
A minute later, the door opened and Behruz stepped outside. He held up a hand to shield his eyes from the sun. He said something in Tajik.
“English,” I said.
“Sorry,” he said. “English me now.”
“Where's your helicopter?” I asked.
He looked confused.
“Helicopter?” I said slowly and raised my hand like a helicopter lifting off.
He pointed toward a wheat field. “Clearing. Minute if you mind.” He kept squinting. “Very bright,” he said then switched to Tajik to say something to the woman inside. “Nag, nag, nag,” he said and rubbed sleep from his eyes.
“Should we bring our gear?”
He squinted toward Kelly and Brenda and the suitcases and climbing packs. He nodded. “Bring with.” And he started toward the field.
“Esther, can you keep up with him?” I called.
“On it,” she said and moved after Behruz.
“Is he hungover?” Kelly asked when Victor and I reached them.
I grabbed a backpack and a suitcase. “Big time.”
“Think it's safe?” Brenda asked.
“Do we have a choice?” I asked.
“We always have a choice.”
“I'm sure it will be fine,” I said.
***
“I'm sure it will be fine,” Brenda said, mimicking me when we pushed through the wheat into the clearing to see what Behruz claimed to be a functional helicopter.
“Well, it’s mostly complete,” I said.
“I'm not getting on that thing.”
The cockpit window had bullet holes and cracks in it. The landing skids were broken. The engine was open to the air as the cover was missing, and the tail looked to be held together with duct tape.
“My bird,” Behruz said proudly and patted the doors. The doors rattled, and I was worried they might fall off as he opened one. The chopper had more rust than metal.
One of the doors didn't open at all. The other hung at an odd angle when he yanked it. The hinges creaked.
The back of the helicopter was packed with boxes. There was writing on the boxes, but as I couldn't read Tajik, I had no idea what they said.
“If it fits, it flies,” Behruz said. It sounded like a rehearsed sentence. “No fit, no go.” He pointed to the boxes. “Supplies.”
There wasn't room for us and all our gear.
“All right, guys,” I said. “It looks like Behruz here is making a few extra bucks by taking us with his cargo to the camp. We can take only the bare necessities.”
“If you break into song,” Kelly said.
I held up my hands. “No Disney moments.”
We repacked our gear and suitcases. Kelly didn't need coats and warm clothing because she'd been magically engineered to not be bothered by temperature shifts. I insisted that she wear a coat if only for appearances. Besides, the temp could drop well below zero at altitude, and I wasn't sure the wizards had accounted for such conditions when they altered her senses.
Victor didn't need any extra clothing. He kept a coat for appearances as well. Brenda and I needed cold weather gear, and we all needed the climbing gear. We took as much as we could and left the rest on the ground.
“Who's best at Tetris?” I asked. Nobody laughed.
Behruz napped in the cockpit while we worked to get as much of our gear on board as we could.
“Will this piece of shit be able to handle the weight?” Brenda asked.
“If not, we'll join Steve Ray Vaughan in the annals of death by helicopter.”
“Not a club I want to join,” Brenda said.
“I'll survive a crash,” Victor said.
“Me too,” Kelly said.
“And that helps me, how?” Brenda asked.
Kelly shrugged.
In the distance, a bell rang.
Behruz snapped to attention. “Get in,” he said. “Go time.”
He fired up the helicopter. The engine coughed and spit black smoke. Pieces rattled. The rotor blade spun for a moment, then slowed as the engine sputtered and died. Behruz hit the dash and started the chopper again. The engine clicked.
Sirens sounded in the distance.
Behruz jumped out of the helicopter and raced around to the engine. He fiddled with something as we tried to squeeze into the back. The door wouldn't quite close.
The sirens grew closer, and while they could have been going anywhere, I knew better. Behruz ran around to the pilot's seat and started the helicopter a third time. This time the engine belched, but kept running. The main rotor blade spun and the chopper rattled all around us. Victor tried to pull the door closed, but we couldn't quite squeeze in tight enough. Kelly sat on my lap, Brenda was squeezed between the seat and the door.
The helicopter rose for a moment then dropped back to the ground. Again it lifted, and again, it dropped.
Three police cars broke through the wheat field into the clearing. A loud speaker shouted words I couldn't understand, but were almost certainly telling us to stop.
“Too heavy!” Behruz said. “Lighten load!”
“There's nothing to throw out,” I said. Most of our gear and clothing littered the field, and the rotor blade kicked up enough wind to send shirts and underwear flying.
“Brenda, you're closest,” Victor said. “Come with me.” He pushed the door open, grabbed Brenda by the sleeve and pulled her out of the helicopter.
“No!” I yelled.
“We'll meet you there!” Victor shouted and slammed the door closed.
The helicopter lifted off and barely cleared the field. Gunfire erupted and bullets slammed into the side of the helicopter.
“They're shooting at us!” I yelled.
“You think?” Kelly shouted.
Behruz whipped us around and bullets pinged off the chopper as we soared away from the clearing. The last thing I saw before we escaped was Victor and Brenda kneeling on the ground with their hands on their heads while police officers approached them, weapons drawn. Others aimed at us, but now we were out of range. Right before we disappeared, though, I saw the strangest thing. Victor grabbed Brenda and leaned sideways to the ground, only he didn't lay down on the ground. They disappeared into his shadow.
CHAPTER SIXTEEN
Kelly dangled Behruz from the helicopter. He tried to twist around to grab the landing skid, but Kelly shook him and he screamed. I stretched forward to hold the stick steady so we didn't crash.
We didn't have much altitude, but that didn't matter. Being dropped on your head from a height of even thirty feet was likely to be fatal.
“Yes,” he yelled to be heard over the rotors. “Most boxes contain heroin.”
“Your English is much better when you're hanging upside down,” Kelly said.
“Please don't drop me!”
“You nearly got our friends k
illed,” Kelly shouted. “Well, friend.”
I liked the way she amended the statement.
I'd told her about Victor's disappearing act. She didn't seem too surprised, and I suppose I shouldn't have been. He'd disappeared on me before and reappeared where he couldn't have been. But if the son of a bitch could travel through shadows, he'd be at the base camp long before we would.
Which begged a question. If he could travel through shadows, why not take us all directly to the camp? Maybe there were limits. Still, it would have saved time and money, and would be harder for the Men of Anubis to trace. Unless it left signature waves in the ether. I made a note to get an answer.
“Please pull me up!” Behruz yelled.
Kelly looked at me and I nodded. She pulled him back into the cockpit, but kept him out of his harness so she could kick him out if she so desired.
Esther pushed her way forward, remaining translucent. “I thought she was going to drop the palooka. I didn't want to see that.”
I ignored Esther because I had more important things to handle.
“You don't live like a drug dealer,” I said.
He looked confused then nodded. “This my first time.”
“And they trusted you with an assload of drugs without sending anyone else along?”
“I not question. I need money.”
“Drug money,” I said.
“Tajikistan very poor. Heroin from Afghanistan help us. Dushanbe little crime, good money.”
“Where is your cargo supposed to go?”
“Man named Yuri at base camp take to Russia.”
“In front of mountain climbers?”
“Season over. June through August. This September,” he said. “Few tourists.”
“I think somebody rolled over on you or set you up, Behruz.”
He nodded.
“You might not even have many drugs here,” Kelly said. “Just enough to send you to prison.”
“Heroin,” he said. “Packed a little in each box myself. Fake police. Try steal from Behruz.”
“Will your wife be all right?” I asked, thinking about her all alone at the house.
“Not wife,” Behruz said. “Contact.”
