“So do I.” Megan looked around the small but warm kitchen. “I’m glad it’s quiet here at the village. We got attacked last night.”
“I’m so sorry,” Mina whispered. “We heard the blasts and gunfire.” Looking out the small window toward the mountains, she added, “I hope no one was hurt.”
“No, just shaken up.”
“This is a dangerous area,” Mina whispered. Pressing her fingertips to her wrinkled brow, she released a sigh. “You must be careful, Megan.”
“As careful as I can. We’re in combat, Mina. We’re trying to help all Afghans by stopping the al-Qaeda soldiers from coming into your country. We want you to be safe, happy and live a life in peace.” She saw the woman’s eyes cloud with worry. Did Mina know something she wasn’t divulging to her?
“For the first time since I’ve been here, our women and children are finally getting medical help. I’ve tried to persuade a doctor to come out to our village, but we’re so remote. The only roads are horse, donkey or goat paths in and out of this area. I wish...I wish things were different....”
Hearing the pain and wistfulness in Mina’s voice, Megan reached over and touched her hand. “You’re doing the best you can. And I can see the people love you. They truly love and respect you.”
Mina lifted her head and choked back tears. “It’s not enough. We’re so poor we can’t even afford a teacher for our children. The Taliban won’t allow our girls to be educated.”
Seeing Mina’s frustration, Megan decided to broach another topic with her. “My cousin Emma is married to Captain Khalid Shaheen. He’s the only Afghan Apache pilot in the U.S. Army. His family comes from Kabul. Perhaps you’ve heard of them?”
“Why, yes. Yes, I have. That’s amazing.”
Nodding, Megan said, “Yes, and not only that, but Khalid has an NGO, a charity he and his sister created. They fly in desks, books and a teacher to villages like your own. I’d like to call them on the radio and ask them to get in touch with you and Timor. They bring all classroom supplies and hire a teacher who will be here six months of the year to teach boys and girls. Do you think your husband would want a project like this?” Megan saw Mina’s eyes widen with hope.
“I’m sure he would! Could you truly do this? Would Captain Shaheen consider us?”
“I see no reason why he wouldn’t,” Megan said, finishing off the lamb. She picked up the cup of cooling tea. “I can ask Khalid and Emma to fly in to talk with your husband about the program?”
“Yes, yes, I will tell him about this tonight.”
“I thought the Taliban in this area don’t want girls to be educated.”
Grimacing, Mina said, “That is true, but I don’t accept their dictates. They are from another tribe. They have no business trying to make our tribe believe or live as they do.”
“How does your husband feel about the Taliban?”
“Timor is a wonderful man, Megan. But you must understand, he comes from a family line of chiefs whose job it is to protect those under his care. And he cares deeply for his people. He does not want our people murdered by the Taliban. I think you know he walks a narrow path between the Americans and them?”
“Yes, I know he does. It can’t be easy. But if my cousin brings in the school supplies and a teacher, what guarantee is there the Taliban won’t attack Lar Sholtan?”
Mina sighed. “It’s a terrible position to be in. Timor has a good relationship with the tribe across the mountain. He must convince the leader that education for all is important.”
“Who is the local Taliban leader?” Megan held her breath. The Marines didn’t know who it was, and if she could get this bit of information, it would be a coup.
“Oh, him.” Mina impatiently waved her hand. “His name is Jabbar Gholam. His name means ‘cruel,’ and he is. He lives on the other side of the mountains east of your compound. He has a small village on the western slopes. Jabbar was born in Pakistan and from age five onward he was trained in those brainwashing madrassas schools. He was taught to hate and kill anyone who wasn’t Muslim.” Mina added softly, “He’s only twenty-eight and he’s a cold-blooded murderer. I don’t know how Timor is able to work with him, but he does.”
“How does he work with him?” Megan wondered aloud, thrilled with the intel.
“Jabbar’s job is to find ways to get the al-Qaeda soldiers across our valley. This valley is a main route. He’s got two young sons, and the foreign soldiers pay him with food and medicine to do it. I’m friends with his wife, Tahira, who is now eight months pregnant with her third child. She’s a sweet person and I suspect she is the only one who has found any good in Jabbar’s black heart. He listens to her. For all his terrible deeds, he dotes on Tahira and his sons. Family means everything to him because, as I understand it, Jabbar was left to die at five years old along a roadside in Pakistan. Luckily, a madrassas teacher rescued him. Jabbar knows no family other than the one he’s created with Tahira, and he worships her.”
“If you’ve met her, why can’t you plead your case with her to allow a teacher to come to Lar Sholtan? Would she understand the importance of teaching all children?”
Laughing softly, Mina said, “Tahira and I are good friends. We rarely see each other, perhaps once or twice a year. But yes, she knows the importance of education. I should make the trip to see her and discuss it.” Her eyes grew merry. “As you know, women run the world. Men think they do, but they don’t. We let them think they do.” Her lips curved.
Megan grinned. “My mother would agree with you. And so do I.”
“Men are such little boys! Women have the real strength, a set of broad shoulders and heart to get things done. And I suspect that when I offer this idea to Timor, he’ll contact Jabbar. My heart tells me the Taliban leader will say no. At that point, I will make a trip across the mountain and discuss the idea with Tahira.”
“And then we might get him to say yes?”
Smiling fully, Mina said, “Jabbar is putty in his beloved’s hands. He can never say no to her.”
“That’s good.”
“Indeed.” Mina rose and picked up the plates. She placed them in a small sink. “Are you ready to begin your afternoon clinic?”
“I am,” Megan said, swallowing the last of the delicious tea. Elated, she could hardly wait to return to the compound and tell Captain Hall what she’d just found out. Even though Hall didn’t think much of the program, she was going to prove him wrong.
Chapter 5
Captain Doug Hall sat at his planning table in the dusk light listening to Megan’s information. Lieutenant Speed and sergeants were present, and he’d asked Doc Collier to be there, as well. He wrote some notes in a small notebook as she spoke.
Megan stood at ease at the end of the table where all the Marines sat. “And that’s all I have for you, sir.”
Raising his blond brows, Hall said, “You’ve given us a treasure trove, Doc.”
“Really, sir?” Megan asked, flushed with his unexpected praise.
Hall held up his spare hand. “First, you’ve given us the name of the local Taliban leader, Jabbar Gholam. You’ve also found where he’s living. And the name of his wife. Now I can feed the intel into our system. We may get a hit on him and we may not. What matters is identifying them because they’re the ones the U.S. has to monitor. And if Gholam is one of the bomb makers, he goes on our hit list. We want the bomb makers dead.”
A cold chill worked its way up Megan’s spine. Killing was abhorrent to her. She wondered for the thousandth time why she had allowed Trayhern family tradition to push her into this life. In all fairness, Megan understood it was her choice, but other factors had shamed her into it. When would she learn to stand up for herself?
Megan’s glance moved to Luke, who stood behind Buck. The dusk light shadowed everyone. At night, no lights were allowed because the Taliban c
ould spot them.
“But, sir,” she spoke up, her soft voice carrying across the cramped room, “you can’t bomb Gholam.”
“Why not?”
“Because Mina, the wife of the elder here at the village, is going to visit Tahira.”
“Do you have more intel?” Hall asked.
Megan shrugged. “I don’t know, sir.”
“Give me everything you got today, Doc.”
Seeing the censure in Hall’s eyes, Megan said, “I thought, sir, you wouldn’t want talk between two women. Tahira’s eight months pregnant.”
“Don’t you decide what is or isn’t important,” the officer said. “Give me everything. I’ll sort it out.”
For the next ten minutes, Megan gave them information she felt they wouldn’t want. Hall’s eyes flared with surprise and then he hid his response. Finished, she waited for the C.O. to speak.
Hall looked over at his X.O., Speed. “What do you think?”
The lieutenant shrugged. “We have to think about the strategic value of the elder’s wife having a connection with this Taliban leader. If she’s going over the mountain to visit the pregnant wife to try and persuade her to let this village have school supplies, we might have a chance to turn Gholam from enemy into friend.”
Hall nodded and flashed a look over at his sergeants. “Buck, any thoughts?”
“Sir, this is excellent intel. We’re supposed to be over here the winning hearts and minds of the Afghan people, not bombing them back into the stone age if we don’t have to. I’d say trying to turn an enemy into a friend is a better way to go here. Besides, Timor Khan is well respected in this province. I don’t think it would look good if his wife was killed over there if the order’s given to blow that village off the slope of the mountain, do you?”
Hall rubbed his jaw. “No. Our job is to protect these villages, make life better for the people living in them.”
Buck gave Megan a nod. “You’ve gotten us more intel than anyone has since the Marines have been putting a company in this area, Doc. Great work!”
“Captain Hall, you aren’t going to bomb that other village?” Megan’s heart beat hard in her chest. She couldn’t live knowing she’d caused the deaths of others.
“Not yet...”
“Sir, I am not here to be the cause of innocent people being killed!” Megan said hurriedly.
Hall nodded. “Stand down, Doc. We don’t want to kill anyone, either. Relax.” He smiled a little. “I do want you to continue to be Mina’s friend and keep your eyes and ears open. I’m all for some friendly movement between these two different tribal villages.” He chuckled and looked around the room at his men. “We all know that the wife rules the roost. Right, gentlemen? Gholam thinks he’s in charge, but in reality, the woman runs the show.”
Laughter erupted around Megan. She saw the men, many of them likely married, sagely nod in agreement. Hall’s face relaxed with an easy grin. Luke gave her a wink. Managing a slight smile, Megan said, “Well, sir, I wouldn’t know about that. I’m single.”
Hall rose to his full six feet. “I believe it’s genetic in all women to run the world. Men are just fooled into believing they do. Everyone’s dismissed.”
More chuckles followed as the meeting broke up.
“Doc, you did good work,” Hall praised, looking at his watch. “It’s chow time.”
Megan left with Luke. The dusk was deepening but not so much she couldn’t see where she was walking. The air chilled. The day was blisteringly hot, but as soon as the sun dropped behind the western mountains, the temperature fell hard and fast. As they walked, their hands accidentally brushed. Megan found the contact comforting.
“You did great,” Luke said, opening the door to the chow hall. “The captain is really pleased.”
Megan picked up two aluminum trays and handed one to Luke. “Thanks.” She looked around. Half the tables were filled with Marines. The air was pungent with curry and the delicious smell of lamb. There were five men in line ahead of them.
“How did your day go? I haven’t seen you since this morning,” she said.
“Okay. Captain Hall said a couple of SEAL teams are operating up in the Hindu Kush Mountains to the north of us. He got orders from Islamabad HQ to work the slopes east of our compound.”
“Navy SEAL teams?”
“Yeah, four-, six- or ten-man teams are dropped in by helo near major routes between Pakistan and here.” Luke shrugged. “Damned dangerous work. The Taliban and al-Qaeda bomb makers haul their materials over on camels. When a predator drone or satellite finds them, Apaches or jets are called in to destroy them. Major Taliban warlords are in cahoots with these bomb makers from Pakistan. And the SEALS are dropped to eliminate them.”
Shivering, Megan saw she was next to get some of the delicious-smelling food made by the cooks behind the counter. “That’s dangerous work.”
“The most dangerous.”
“Do you think Captain Hall will send the SEALS after Jabbar Gholam?”
“Only if it’s proven he works with al-Qaeda. If he doesn’t, then it’s a question of if he’s a Taliban-minded leader or not.” Luke picked up his utensils. “We may find out more about Gholam in the coming days. If he’s an ally to Timor Khan’s tribe, then the Marines aren’t going to bother him.”
“I just don’t want his village bombed, Luke. His wife has two kids and she’s pregnant with a third one.” The Navy chef put a huge leg of lamb on her tray along with scoops of white rice, carrots and a slice of white cake with pink frosting. It was enough for two men, but out here, Megan was discovering she would eat it all.
“I don’t think that will happen,” Luke said. At the table, they sat alone and opposite each other. The din of men chatting, some laughter and the clink of utensils provided background music of a sort. Megan dug into the curried lamb. She noticed Luke was quieter than usual. He’d been out on patrol for nearly twelve hours. In a way, Megan was glad she wasn’t expected to go out on these dangerous missions. Luke looked tired. His cheeks were more hollow because his beard had grown back. She found herself wanting to lift her fingers and push several strands of dark brown hair off his brow. Stopping herself, she realized how powerfully drawn she was to the medic.
While she drank her coffee and enjoyed every bit of the sweet cake, she asked Luke, “What do you do tomorrow?”
“I’ll be in the village holding a clinic again. I’m trying to be there two or three days a week.”
“I’m going to call my cousin Emma after we eat. Captain Hall gave me permission to use the satellite phone. He’s all for Emma and Khalid flying in books, desks and a teacher for Lar Sholtan. Does the C.O. think it will help stabilize the Marines’ position with Timor Khan?”
Shrugging, Luke finished off his cake and pushed the tray aside. “Hard to say, really. You have to understand that all these villages are important to the Taliban and al-Qaeda. It’s an uneasy alliance, at best. They can’t operate within Afghanistan without village support. It’s a double-edged sword the village elders have to walk with both parties. On one hand, if they appear to be pro-American, both will retaliate against the village. If they start killing off Pashtuns in a village, this can set the elders against them. And if that happens, they’ll have gone too far and have lost that village’s support.”
“How do they entice these village elders, then?” Megan asked.
“Through food, clothing and medicine.”
“But that’s what we’re doing.”
“Precisely.” Luke sipped his coffee. He saw the confusion in Megan’s blue eyes. Several strands of her red hair peeked out from behind her delicate ear. Without a helmet on, she was attractive, and he found himself appreciating her as a woman. “Are you aware of Lokhay Warkawal?”
Nodding, Megan said, “Yes, I was introduced to the Pashtun code
of life when I took the one-year immersion course in Pashto. The Pashtun are not ruled by any government. Their code, which has been in place for thousands of years, helps them live peacefully with one another. It’s also called the Pashtunwali.”
“Right,” Luke said. “I saw it in action once before. The Taliban were leaning on a village of Pashtuns who happen to live in Helmand Province. Most Pashtuns live in the mountain area along the border, but this group had migrated to the desert. Anyway, long story short, a local tribal Taliban leader was going to come into their village to capture a wounded British soldier who had asked for asylum among them. The elders met with the Taliban leader and told them that they had given the wounded soldier Nanawatai or asylum.”
“Really?” Megan’s brows shot up with surprise. “The elders protected a British soldier?”
“Yep, they did. If the Taliban had tried to come in and snatch the Brit, the whole village would have sworn vengeance and death on the offending tribe. The same goes for al-Qaeda soldiers. These different political factions need these villagers. It’s where they hide when the Americans and Brits are seeking them out and killing them.”
“Wow,” Megan said, impressed. “I’ve never heard of Lokhay being invoked to save a life of a British soldier. That’s taking a heck of a chance.”
“Well,” Luke counseled, “you need to understand this code because you’re in the line of fire even in that village. I know Mina likes you and you’re creating a bond of trust with her. The other part of this code is Namus, which means the Pashtun must defend the honor of all Pashtun women. No one can come in and vocally curse at them or physically harm them in any way.” His voice grew deep with warning. “You need to ask Mina to get Timor to bestow Lokhay upon you, Megan. If not, you are an outsider and if a Taliban or al-Qaeda soldier comes into their village, he can kill you. No one in the village will protect you. The Marines aren’t in that village all the time. We’re out on patrols hunting down the enemy in the mountains surrounding this valley.”
“I—I never thought about this aspect of it.” She saw how gravely concerned Luke had become. His hands were wrapped around the white ceramic coffee mug. His mouth thinned.
Beyond Valor Page 7
