Ryan looked over at Squalls. “That’s my point.”
Sergeant Bob was quiet for a moment as they clambered over a formation of granite that resembled the bony knuckles of a giant hand. “Okay Ryan, let’s give her a chance . . . no need to piss these guys off and make them start shooting at everything.”
“So you’re not going to inform your commander’s that he’s here?”
“Not yet . . . let’s see how things go by daybreak.”
Ryan nodded and made another check on their progress with the tracker. Something was wrong.
“Hold up.”
The two rangers looked back and stopped.
Ryan reset the tracker’s electronics and waited for the unit to power up again. After five seconds the screen came back on with the same results.
Calida’s signal was gone.
Siri opened her eyes and tried to sit up, but her arms and legs were snugly strapped down on the hospital bed. She turned her head toward the window and was rewarded with a sharp pain along the right side of her neck just below the angle of her lower jaw.
“Good to see you are finally awake,” a voice said.
Siri let the pain fade and slowly inched her head toward the voice. “Why am I here?” she managed to say, and her throat felt raw as if she had swallowed a crumpled ball of coarse sandpaper.
“Ooh yes, that is a proper question, and so I must give you a proper answer.”
“What have you done to me?”
“Let us take one question at time. You are presently in the clinic’s post surgery recovery room. You have been in an induced sleep since your operation two days ago.”
“Operation?” Siri again tried to move her arms. “Something has been done to my neck . . . why?”
“Well, we considered implanting it within your skull, but the agency’s staff surgeons advised that unlike Agent Villena who possesses such extraordinary recuperative abilities, such a procedure might kill you, or render you with brain damage.”
“Implant . . . implanting what?”
“An alternate location was suggested to avoid causing injury to your mind. And so here we are.”
Siri squeezed her eyes shut.
“Oh, come now, Doctor Lei. Tears? You have been permitted to live. Please stop with this wasteful self pity.”
“I haven’t deserved this . . . you’re a monster.”
“Much better. In times such as this anger can be a useful tool.”
“I have a right to know what you’ve done to me.”
“You have no right to anything but what I choose. Haven’t I made this clear enough?”
Siri swallowed, but the effort only made it halfway due to her dry throat. “—Please tell me.”
“Now that wasn’t too difficult—being polite. What has been done to you is the implantation of a small explosive charge between you jugular vein and carotid artery. The explosive shall remain in its present state as long as you cooperate fully with my wishes.”
“This is about . . . it’s about the search for the stone.”
“Precisely my good Doctor. You are going to discover the location of this remarkable object.”
Siri squirmed beneath the straps. “Where are Calida—Ryan?”
“No need to get excited . . . they are both still performing their mission. And by coincidence I received an update just before coming over here to see how your recovery is going.”
“Are they unharmed?” Siri stopped struggling.
“So far, but it is a dangerous place. Yet agent Villena has apparently infiltrated the Sardar’s tribe and taken the place of his daughter.”
“And Ryan?”
“To be honest, the mountains of Pakistan are a sore trial for a man who spends most of his waking hours in a laboratory.”
Siri was quiet for a moment as she tried to absorb her situation. What had been done to her was beyond anything she could have even remotely considered as a possibility in her life. The Director was entirely outside those conventional reference points she depended on to bring reason to her world.
“So where do I go from this hospital bed?”
A cloud of pipe smoke lazily passed over Siri’s face. Accepted rules of decency didn’t apply to this evil man.
“You shall be up on your feet tomorrow and as soon as medical clearance is given I expect you to resume your research into the location of the stone.”
“That simple?”
“It is only as simple as you allow. If you deviate, or make any attempt to subvert or misdirect our efforts your neck will immediately explode. Your fate is in your hands. Think of yourself as your own executioner.”
“And what happens to me if I am unable to locate this stone for you?” The panic in Siri’s voice rose. “What if it is now gone?”
“That would be disappointing.”
“But—but it’s a possibility.”
“Yes, yes, that is true. We’ll cross that road together if such is the case. But believe me when I tell you that it’s in your best interests to find the stone.”
“Or you’ll kill me?”
“If you cannot find it your usefulness will be at an end.”
“Isn’t that also true if I do find it? What use would I be to you then?”
“Now don’t fret about such things. Find comfort in knowing that you still have some worth if you perform your job as I expect.”
“I don’t find comfort in anything from you.” Siri took a deep breath and stared up at the ceiling. She had been trapped in an impossible circle; they all had.
“I expect you to be on your feet tomorrow. Professor Balken has an interesting theory about the stone’s origin. This might help you in your efforts to locate the caves.”
“You want my recovery to go well?”
“Of course my dear Doctor Lei.”
“Then you need to leave.”
“I have already stayed here longer than I intended. I’ll instruct the medical staff to remove your straps. I’m sure you won’t be going anywhere.”
Siri closed her eyes and listened as the Director got up out of a chair, and accompanied by the soft clicks of his cane, left the room.
Chapter Twenty-one
“None but a noble man treats women in an honorable manner. And none but an ignoble treats women disgracefully.”
—Mohammed, the Prophet
After the Sardar bid farewell to the Amir the chosen daughters had been ordered to make bread. Two hours before sunrise, as they finished with the dough, three armed Taliban warriors entered their tent. They grabbed Calida and Nafisa.
“The Amir has requested two of you,” one of the guards said.
“You . . . .” The other guard pointed to the daughter being left behind. “You shall bake the bread.”
Calida sensed something was wrong. Her suspicions were confirmed as they were led away from the tents toward the base of the large granite rock formation that hung over their heads.
Calida searched for the Amir and felt his presence, although faint, coming from the rock. In a few more hours, her messengers would multiply and her link with the Amir would grow stronger. As they came to the rock’s base, the guards commanded them to enter a small hole that appeared to have been chiseled into the rock. Nafisa nervously whispered as she passed into the dark opening but Calida ignored her.
Once they entered the cave, the ceiling rose high enough so that even the guards could fully stand. The cave had an odor of human sweat mixed with the acrid scent of gunpowder. A thick electric cable had been secured to the cave’s left wall from which widely spaced lights cast a soft yellow glow.
The women were led deeper into the cave and after several twists, the passage opened into a chamber. Calida looked down at the chamber’s floor and noticed a small pit of red-hot coals had been prepared along the back wall. Thin wisps of white and gray smoke wafted up from the coals and into an open shaft that led to the outside somewhere above their heads.
Also on the floor sitting atop large yellow
cushions was the Amir and another man with a simple white turban and a well-worn green army jacket. On the floor by his right hand was a wooden cane and lying across his lap was an AK-47.
Standing along the walls were five men with guns, but only two of them wore the traditional garb of the Taliban. The other three had different colored turbans and their eyes were more weathered and fierce.
“Sit down and show us your faces,” the Amir ordered.
Calida removed her veil and coyly looked at the Amir’s companion. He looked frail, but his eyes had a piercing quality and his long beard resembled used steel wool.
“These are two of the women I spoke about my Sheikh,” the Amir said. “The very young one is Nafisa, and the other is Amina.”
The man with the white turban looked at Calida but never smiled. “These Sardars have many daughters to give away.” His voice was soft and pitched even higher than the Amir’s. “You Pashtuns too easily give away your women.”
“Do you know the old Pashtun saying, Khazi la koor day ya Goorfor?” the Amir asked.
The Amir and the two Taliban broke into laughter.
The Sheikh gave a disinterested sigh and tapped his fingers on his rifle. “I have heard this Amir,” he replied. “A woman has two places . . . either at home or in the grave. So which shall it be for these two?
“I suspect it shall be both,” the Amir replied, and he laughed again. The Sheikh maintained the same emotionless expression.
Calida listened as the two men exchanged small talk in front of her as if she and Nafisa were nothing more than two rocks on the ground.
“But will the Sheikh agree that they are unusually beautiful?”
“In the eyes of Allah, Praise and Glory be to Him, all women are beautiful.”
“What about your eyes?”
The Sheikh smiled for the first time. “My eyes see only His will.”
“And which shall you choose to serve you?”
The Sheikh turned back toward Calida. “This one . . . very beautiful, but her eyes are not like the other. There is a secret hidden behind her stare that only Allah, Praise and Glory be to Him, can know.”
“Is this true?” the Amir asked.
Calida reached into the Amir. “I am only a woman of my tabar. “I have no secrets.”
The Amir blinked his right eye. “See, she is a simple Pashtana. She would make a good choice.”
“Yet her name is very sacred, not the name of a servant.”
“She has more knowledge, Sheikh, and would provide the better service.”
“Yet . . . I shall take the other.” The Sheikh fondled his gun some more. “I see nothing hidden behind her eyes.”
“But—”
“By the grace of Allah, Praise and Glory be to Him, you have offered the hospitality of choice. Why do you now ask me to choose by your wish?”
Calida withdrew. She had pushed too hard.
The Amir flinched as if startled and then began to scratch his vacant socket. “The choice is yours, Sheikh.” The Amir looked over to one of his men. “Take them to the women’s quarters. And you, Amina, shall help your sister bathe.”
The two women were led out of the chamber, through a maze of narrow passages, and finally ordered down a ladder into the women’s quarters: a bowl shaped pit. A single light hung down into the deep depression in the rock. The ladder was the only way to enter or leave.
“There is water in the wooden basin,” the guard said. Nafisa began to sob while Calida looked around at their prison. There was a large wooden basin with water sitting on the floor. There were also some cushions and a small pile of blankets.
“What—what shall I do?”
“Bathe,” Calida replied. “You must be strong . . . if you do not obey their wishes you shall be harmed.”
“I shall be shamed! I have not yet known a man.”
“If that is what happens then you must submit . . . you must not fight. Do you understand me, Nafisa?”
“I—I shall not fight.”
“You are very brave, now off with these clothes and let me see you.”
Calida thought about turning Nafisa, but it wouldn’t help the frightened girl since there wasn’t enough time. She glanced up. The guard was watching them.
Nafisa removed her burqa and as she took off her under garments, she kept casting nervous glances up at the guard. Calida studied the girl’s face, and then took a small washcloth that lay next to the water basin. As Calida washed Nafisa, she noticed several large scars and bruises on her arms and legs. The lifelong abuse by the men of Nafisa’s tabar was recorded on her skin. Even so, Nafisa was young, perhaps twenty years old, delicate, but unusually pretty with lovely green eyes. Already her life had been much too hard.
“It is time,” the guard called down to them.
“Do not show your tears, Calida said. “Do whatever is asked of you.”
Nafisa finished with the washcloth and started to put on her under clothes.
“No!” the guard yelled. “Only the burqa. Leave the veil.”
“It is all right,” Calida said. “I shall wash your clothes for you so they are clean when you return.”
Nafisa put her burqa over her head and embraced Calida. “I shall be strong, Amina. Will you pray for help to find me?”
“Do not worry, help will find you.”
Nafisa climbed up the ladder and once she reached the top the guard withdrew it trapping Calida in the pit.
“Why have you taken the ladder?” Calida asked, boldly.
“It would be unwise for you to walk around these passages by yourself,” the guard replied. “It is best to remove temptation from our eyes.”
The guard and Nafisa left her sight and a few seconds later the light hanging above the pit went out. Calida, for the second time in her remarkably long life, found herself deep inside a cave surrounded by blackness.
“You’re still not getting anything?”
Ryan had gone over every conceivable fault mode on the tracker, he had even run the unit’s self diagnostic routine. “It’s working. Just no signal from the sensor.”
“All right, we’ll hold our position here for five minutes. Squalls, recon ahead for fifty yards.”
“Be back in a few,” Squalls said and disappeared over a bank of loose stones.
Sergeant Bob checked his watch. “We have less than two hours until dawn.”
Ryan continued to breathe heavily. “I don’t know what we should do.”
“All right, the signal can penetrate through a mortared wall and it’ll relay through GPS if there’s no line of sight, right?”
“The sensor has a constant GPS link,” Ryan replied. “It transmits on standard military band but also sends an encrypted very low frequency signal that can penetrate most building materials and even up to forty feet of water.”
“What about through rock?”
“Not really.”
“Then she must be in a cave. I mean if she was out in the open and dead you’d still get a signal.”
“Makes sense. The last communication I had with her was when she was in a tent, but she broke contact and a minute later the signal went dead.”
“And you haven’t gotten even a hello from her since then?”
“Nothing.”
“I might have to make that call to base. There’s another MILSAT due to pass overhead in fifty-two minutes. If we still don’t have a signal, or she doesn’t communicate by then, I’ll have no choice.”
“Maybe we should give her—”
“Quiet.”
Sergeant Bob studied the terrain toward the south. A few seconds passed and Squalls came scooting over the loose rock pile.
“We got company . . . five men in turbans coming up from the south—a hundred meters out straight ahead.
“Armed?”
“All have AKs.”
Sergeant Bob shook his head and spit. “We get into a fire fight and our cover’s blown. Sound of those AKs will bounce all up and down the va
lley.” Sergeant Bob adjusted his rifle’s strap. “Are they searching or just walking?”
“Guns are partially slung and they’re making noise. No way they know we’re here.”
“Damn, this is probably the only place in the valley without decent cover.”
“Make a decision quick, Sergeant. They’ll be right up our ass in five minutes.”
“We could retreat a quarter mile . . . lots of crags and cracks to squirm into back there.” Sergeant Bob chewed his bottom lip and looked at Squalls. “How quick can you get three kill shots off with that?”
“Last shot would be in the air just as the third target realized he was screwed.”
“That leaves me the other two with this CQC. All right, Ryan you stay back here, but get that pistol out. Squalls, let’s move so we’re within fifty meters. Silencers mounted.”
“You’re kidding.”
“I never kid about shooting someone,” Sergeant Bob said. “You just keep your head down and if anyone besides me or Squalls pokes his head into view don’t wait to pull the trigger.”
“How will I know if it’s either one of you two.”
“If you see a turban, shoot,” Squalls said.
“Everybody here wears a God damn turban,” Ryan angrily whispered.
The two Rangers looked at each other, shrugged, and quickly took off. Ryan was now squatting on a shallow rocky slope all by himself. Five minutes passed and a single gunshot rang out and faded away in a series of echoes.
Ryan aimed his pistol up at the top of the rock pile and waited.
Sunrise was getting near. Nafisa had been gone for twenty minutes and even without any light, everything around Calida produced a ghostly sparkle to her eyes. The sparkle merely outlined the shapes of objects, but it allowed her to navigate without walking into the hard walls of the cave.
Calida located Nafisa somewhere above her and to the south. Her mind was in a terrible panic and Calida quickly understood her predicament. The Amir was also above her, but in a different direction. She then located Ryan, closer now, his thoughts anxious.
Calida entered his mind. “You are worried.”
So you wanna talk now?
“I’m in a quiet place.”
American Blood: A Vampire's Story Page 29
