Listening to the communications through her ear device, she kept watch on the slow-moving group through her Nightforce scope.
Their horses were tied down below the slope, well hidden in a grove of trees. Khat listened as Mike was told to contact Camp Bravo for Apache interdiction, that none were available out of J-bad. She watched as he switched channels and made the call. In moments, it reached the Black Jaguar Squadron based at Bravo. Yes, they had two Apaches on the runway as a QRF, quick reaction force, to respond to the situation. Mike gave them the GPS coordinates of the group and signed off.
He glanced over at her and made a hand signal for them to slowly extricate themselves from their position and get the hell out of there. The Apaches would arrive in thirty minutes. With their heads-up display, their television camera and infrared capability, they’d quickly locate this group and dispense with them.
Khat slowly moved down from the ridgeline, the rocks biting into her lower legs. The Kevlar vest protected her upper body from the sharpened stones. Mike worked his way down the scree, never leaving her side. His M-4 rifle was strapped across his back, handy in case he needed it in a hurry.
The night was black except for a quarter moon in the sky. They were exposed and knew it, hoping the desert camouflage uniforms they wore blended them into the surrounding rocks.
Finally, Khat turned and stood up, far enough below the ridgeline so she couldn’t be seen. The horses focused their attention on them. They had to hurry. Khat didn’t want to be anywhere near the air assault. Slipping and sliding, Mike gripped her elbow to prevent her from falling. Once down the slope, Khat quickly sheathed her Win Mag rifle and closed up the boot to protect it.
“Where to now?” Mike asked, mounting his horse.
“North,” she said quietly, mounting Mina. She pointed to a lesser-used goat trail that led down off the mountain. “This way.” She urged her mare into a trot.
*
AS A PALE, pink dawn crawled upon the rugged peaks of the Hindu Kush, they were once again within their cave complex. Mike had taken care of the horses while Khat got the hay and measured the oats out for their hardworking mounts.
They’d established a working routine. With two people, it went twice as fast. While Khat stripped out of her gear and washed herself in the waterfall pool, Mike was laying out their bedding and getting things set up for their MRE meals. When she came back, dressed only in a clean green T-shirt, the ends hanging halfway down her curved thighs, Mike took notice. No matter what Khat wore, she was sexy as hell. He was next and shed his gear, eager to wash off a night’s worth of grit and sweat.
Over their MRE meal, Khat sat cross-legged, facing him. “I want to take a couple of days off,” she told him, eating the warmed spaghetti.
“And do what?” Mike asked, leaning against the cave wall. He absorbed her drying hair, a red mantle across her shoulders. Too bad she had to put on clean trousers; he liked seeing her with just a T-shirt on.
“I want to spend a few days doing medical clinics in Dur Babba.”
Mike moved the potatoes around on his MRE tray. “That’s your family’s village, right?” He saw her nod, her look uncertain.
“Are you okay with it?” Khat watched his expression. It was thoughtful, not concerned. She needed to see her aunt Leeda, and this would be the only way she could get to talk with her.
Mike felt Khat was in turmoil, and he was not sure how to read her request. What was the real reason for her wanting to go there? This was a specific op for mapping the mountains. Not diverting to a village to render medical aid. He ate the pears and thought some more. Khat seemed anxious. Worried. Finally, he said, “You need to see your family?”
“The truth is I need to see my aunt Leeda.” Khat explained to him her standing in her father’s family. “She’s a woman, but even the men listen to her.”
Mike nodded, watching as Khat pushed the food disinterestedly around on her MRE pouch. “She’s someone you can really talk to?”
“Yes.”
What did Khat want to talk to her relative about now? He sensed Khat’s anxiety, but he also saw it in her eyes. She was being honest with him, but was holding back something, too. “Do they know your father has disowned you?”
“I don’t honestly know,” she said with a shrug, forcing herself to eat when she didn’t feel hungry. “I’ve not told them. I’m too ashamed to admit it, if you want the truth.”
Mike finished off his food. He set the tray aside and studied Khat. “Come here.” He held his hand out toward her.
Khat set her half-eaten MRE aside and moved between his spread legs, her back against his body, her head coming to rest on his left shoulder. His arms came around her waist, and he held her. All the anxiety dissolved beneath his embrace. “I love you,” she whispered, nuzzling her face against his bearded jaw.
“I don’t ever want life without you, Angel,” he rasped, turning his head, pressing a kiss to her temple. “Whatever is challenging you, we can handle.” He gently sifted his fingers through her drying strands, knowing she enjoyed it so much.
Placing her hands over his, Khat whispered, “How did you know?”
“What? That something’s bothering you?” He slipped his fingers beneath her hair, grazing her neck. “You can’t hide anything from me, Khat, because I love you. We have a connection. You can feel when I’m out of sorts, just as much as I can feel when something’s worrying you.”
She felt the warm strength of Mike’s body around her. In his arms, she felt safe, desired and loved. “I want to see my aunt Leeda to see if she would be upset if I don’t stay with her this winter. I want her to meet you, Mike. I want her to understand that I love you.” Khat compressed her lips, tipped her head up so she could look up into his dark gold eyes. “She’ll be honest with me because she loves me. I trust her.”
“You want her blessing, then?” Mike saw the concern over what her aunt would say deep in Khat’s green eyes. Mike tried to keep his elation under wraps. He wanted to scream for joy that she’d finally made a choice. And it was to be with him! Now he had to worry about this Aunt Leeda, whom Khat placed a great deal of trust in.
Nodding, she whispered, “Yes. I know if I don’t stay in the village, some of my relatives will get angry. I always bring food and other supplies that I distribute among the family. That wouldn’t happen if I wasn’t there.”
“You’re saying Aunt Leeda isn’t bribable, right?” Mike smiled a little, moving his thumb against the warm velvet of her cheek.
“She comes from the heart like I do.” Khat sighed and added, “Aunt Leeda was the first to take me in, Mike. She was fierce about taking care of me like a mother. She isn’t rich. She’s a dirt-poor farmer like everyone else, but she loves me. And I love her.”
Mike wrapped his arms gently around her, holding her tightly. Resting his jaw against the top of her head, he said, “Then we’ll go see Aunt Leeda.” As soon as he’d spoken the words, Khat released a long sigh of relief.
As he held her in his arms, he wondered if Aunt Leeda really had Khat’s best interests at heart or not. If she didn’t, then Mike knew he could lose Khat. Damn. It was another hurdle to jump in order to win her hand. Mike was very well aware of marriage customs among the Pashtun tribes. He’d have to ask Leeda’s husband for Khat’s hand. They didn’t understand American customs of living together before marriage. In the end, the real decision would rest on Leeda’s shoulders. Whether he liked it or not, he was going to have to make a good impression with Khat’s relatives or else…
*
LEEDA GAVE A cry of delight as she opened the door at dawn and found her niece smiling a welcome at her. The woman threw her arms around Khat’s shoulders, fiercely hugging her. It was barely dawn, gray light hinting at the mountains that surrounded Dur Babba. Khat smiled at her red-haired aunt, who was dressed in a long brown wool robe, her hair braided about her head.
“Aunt,” she said in Pashtun, “I want you to meet my good friend, Mike Tarik. He’s
come with me.” She turned to gesture for him to come forward.
Leeda, who had a lot of gray in her red hair, squinted her green eyes, studying the tall stranger dressed in Afghan clothes. “Ah, you’ve brought a friend, eh?” Her long hand snaked out of her robe, and she gripped Mike’s arm. “Then you are welcome. Both of you, come in. Come in…”
There was a taper lit in the corner of the large room as Mike entered after Khat. This was a larger mud house with two or three rooms. Leeda had a small fire in the other corner, a kettle on a blackened iron grate above the small flame. He saw two other rooms. Sleeping rooms, the curtains drawn across the openings.
“What a surprise,” Leeda said, patting Khat’s cheek. “You look good. Have you gained weight?”
Khat sat down near the fire to warm herself. The all-night ride in freezing temperatures was miserable. “Yes.” She gestured for Mike to sit next to her as her aunt busied herself making tea for them. “Is everyone else asleep?”
Tittering, Leeda murmured, “Oh, they’ll wake up now that they hear your voice, niece.” Her green eyes sparkled. “They know you always bring candy and gifts.”
Laughing softly, Khat pulled the hood off her head, the black scarf lying about her shoulders. She saw her aunt eye Mike warily. “Auntie,” she said softly, “Mike is someone very special to me. You don’t have to be afraid of him. We work together up in the mountains.”
Her aunt was fifty-five, lean and tall. She had Khat’s red hair and green eyes. Her father had the same color of hair and eyes, too. Leeda had told her many stories of the red hair through their family. A great warrior had come from the west and married into the family. Khat finally figured out that it might have been a Siberian Russian, as red hair ran in that group.
Leeda poured the tea, put the small ceramic cups on a tray and brought it over, serving Mike first then Khat. She set the tray aside and pulled over a very old, worn pillow and sat on it, facing them.
Leeda watched Mike for a long moment, her cup between her long, worn hands. “You are not Pashtun.”
Mike said, “No, ma’am. My father is Saudi, and my mother is American.” He saw the woman’s deeply lined face grow thoughtful.
“Ah,” Leeda said, giving Khat a curious look. “He’s half Middle Eastern as you are? How did you meet?”
Mike let the women do the talking. Except for the taper and small fire in the corner, the place was dark. Smoke rose lazily upward through a hole in the roof. He could hear the snoring of men in one room. Khat explained how they’d met. The smell of earth, the wood smoke trailing out a hole in the roof, and goats entered his nostrils. Leeda was animated, and he liked her warmth, frequently reaching out to touch Khat’s hand. Now he could see why Khat loved her. She was nurturing and maternal; something Khat desperately needed.
“So?” Leeda murmured, shifting her attention to Mike, “you are a SEAL?”
“Yes, ma’am.”
“We have benefitted greatly from your kind, and we are grateful.” Leeda gestured toward the door. “The border area is less dangerous because of your bravery to face the Taliban.”
“We’re glad to be of help when we can,” Mike told her seriously, finishing his cup of tea.
Leeda got up and poured him more.
Thanking her, Mike knew there could be ten or twenty cups of tea on this chat. All talk was diplomatic and roundabout. The point of the conversation was never addressed at first. Usually, hours later and many cups of tea later, the point of the meeting was finally spoken about. Leeda was wily. He felt it. And she reminded him of Khat. Leeda was very strong, her spine straight, her slender shoulders pulled back with deep pride and confidence. Khat certainly took after Jaleel’s female side of the line.
“My niece has been our protector for a long time,” Leeda said to him, frowning.
“Yes, she has,” Mike said.
“You are aware of what she does since you work with her?”
“I am.”
“My niece is getting on in years and—” she smiled kindly toward Khat “—I have wished that she would meet a good man who values her and gives her many children.”
Mike kept his face carefully arranged. He heard Khat choke on her tea, coughing for several moments. Leeda’s steel gaze didn’t waver one iota. Neither did his. “I love your niece with every breath I take,” he told her quietly, sincerely. “I want to ask her to be my wife, but Khat felt she wanted to speak with you first. You and your husband.”
Nodding, Leeda said less formally, “My husband died ten years ago when he stepped on an IED. I am the head of my family now.”
Okay, Mike thought, the ball is in her court. It meant Leeda had full authority to either bless their union or tear it apart. She was the oldest sister. Normally, the husband of the oldest daughter would take over, but Mike knew many women became widows in these villages because of Taliban activity. If the men didn’t die from stepping on an IED, the Taliban would kidnap them to recruit them, and they were never seen by their family again. More and more Afghan village responsibility for ancient male customs was falling on the shoulders of the oldest woman or the matriarch in the family.
Two young girls came out of the other room, sleepily wiping their eyes. One was ten and the other was probably six from what Mike could judge. The moment they saw Khat, they shrieked her name and flew across the dirt floor, throwing themselves into her arms.
Leeda smiled a little at Mike. “We’ll talk later, eh?”
Mike nodded, holding her curious stare. Pashtuns didn’t like outsiders. They almost always married within their tribal area. Sometimes a man from another village would court a woman from elsewhere, but both were Pashtuns, the tribes friendly with one another. He was a distinct outsider. He wasn’t Pashtun. His tribe was Saudi.
Unsure of what Leeda was thinking, Mike turned and smiled, watching the two young girls snuggle like wriggling, happy puppies, into Khat’s lap. The expression on her face melted his heart. It was obvious she loved children. He wondered what their children would look like. Would her family’s strong red-haired gene be passed on to them?
Swallowing hard, Mike felt his love for Khat so deeply that he struggled to breathe for a moment. Her profile was clean, her lips drawn into a warm smile, her eyes soft and maternal. They would have beautiful, strong, intelligent children, he knew. If only… He glanced to see Leeda beginning to make breakfast for the awakening family. Soon the men would come out, eat and then go to work in the fields all day. The women would care for the younger children and cook, the hub of Afghan village life.
Later, after Mike had met all of the Shinwari family, he and Khat walked through the village to the stable where their horses were kept. The sun was just rising, the sky a light blue with puffy white clouds. He walked at her side, noticing how relaxed she had become. There were eight boys and girls, plus seven adults in that small house. All of them shy about meeting him, but adoring and worshipful of Khat.
“You’re a rock star here,” he teased, looking to see her response.
Khat snorted. “I am not.”
“You are loved by everyone.”
“I am,” she murmured, smiling over at him. “I think Aunt Leeda likes you. She thinks you’re here to ask her permission to marry me.”
“I am,” he said bluntly. He saw Khat’s eyes grow huge. They halted near the mud hut that doubled as a barn for their mounts. “Your aunt forced my hand,” he said wryly, resting his hands on her shoulders. He saw her smile a little, moisture in her eyes. “I love you, Khat,” Mike said, his voice roughened. “I want a life with you. Not just here in this country, either. Did you think I would walk away from you someday?”
Her heart melted beneath his dark, intense stare. “I…well…it’s not been that long and I thought…” She shrugged helplessly.
“I play for keeps, Angel. I told you that night when I was waiting for that Medevac I was going to find you again. Remember?”
“I’ve never forgotten it,” she whispered unsteadily.
/>
“Then let me make this formal,” Mike growled, holding her shaken gaze. “Will you marry me? Spend the rest of your life with me? Have my children, if that’s what you want? Have a life where I can hear your laughter, feel your heart against my ear when I lay my head on your breast? Sit on the beach and watch the sunset with me?”
Tears gathered in Khat’s eyes. His voice was gruff with feeling, his eyes alive with love for her, his fingers firm on her shoulders. “Or feed Sam the harbor seal fish on Fridays?” she quavered.
“Anything you want, Khat. I want to give you the world.” Mike leaned down, not caring who the hell saw him kissing her. She was his woman, and he couldn’t care less what anyone thought. When she came into his arms, her mouth so warm and strong against his, Mike groaned.
Khat slid her arms around his shoulders, and she strained to get as close to him as possible. Tasting the warmth of her tears as their lips melded against one another, Mike hoped they were tears of happiness, not of separation. He’d been shocked by Leeda’s pointed questions and observations. She hadn’t been diplomatic at all. And she’d gone straight to the heart of why Khat had come to see her. Only Khat had wanted to ask her aunt a different question. But wily Leeda saw the underlying reason. As matriarch of her family, she wasn’t about to hand Khat off to just any man who courted her. She wanted to make damn sure he was a worthy husband for her.
Khat lifted her lips away from his mouth, breathing irregularly, drowning in his stormy golden eyes. “Aunt Leeda thinks I brought you here as potential husband material.”
“Yeah, I got that real fast,” he said, brushing her cheek, amused.
“I’m sorry, Mike. I didn’t mean for this to happen like this.”
“I’m not sorry at all. Because—” he tipped her chin up so he could hold her gaze “—that was my plan all along, Khat. From the moment I saw you in that waterfall, I knew you were mine. I just didn’t know how I was going to do it, but my heart knew you were the woman for me. It was a done deal.” And it was. For him. Mike saw the gold in the depths of her green eyes, saw the softness at the corners of her luscious mouth.
Taking Fire Page 26
