by Holden, Abby
"You've lived up to expectations, Mr. McGrew. We would like to offer you a more lucrative position in the White Pine family."
Jake said nothing.
"If you accept, next week you'll be sent for special training. If you decline, you'll be assigned a less critical role in White Pine."
"What's the whole deal, Mister… I didn't get your name."
"I didn't give it."
"Yes, I know," Jake said. He didn't like this guy. And it appeared from the feelings that Megan was broadcasting, she didn't like him either.
"Harding. William Harding." He stuck out his hand.
Jake looked at it but didn't return the gesture. "What's the whole scoop?"
"You're being invited to join us. You'll be assigned a crew in Iraq. We've followed your career with an eye to recruiting you for sometime. We've arranged it so that you won't be called back into active duty as the Pentagon is getting ready to do. So in essence, you'll be switching teams for your country. I believe that you would be a great asset helping us protect the interests of our nation."
"And this 'protecting' would include what sort of jobs?"
"Whatever needs to be done. For the most part, you would be doing exactly what the military trained you to do. We would capitalize on that training."
"I see," Jake said. "And when do you want my decision?"
"Whenever you decide."
"Then I'll need to think about it."
Harding smiled. "Of course. There are certain perks that come with the position."
The van rolled to a stop, but no one moved to get out.
"Certain perks that would allow us to rotate personnel into parallel positions." He nodded at Megan. "I'll be in touch, Mr. McGrew." He stepped out of the vehicle. There was another car parked next to the van which he stepped into, and it took off. After a few seconds, so did their van.
Jake turned to Megan. "What the hell was that all about?"
Megan let out her breath. She turned to Masood, ignoring Jake's question. "I hate him."
Fahim chuckled. "Yes, he makes everyone nervous. I just wish Washington would let us be. They always complicate things."
"Did he just pimp you to me?!"
"That's about the long and short of it, Cupcake."
"And you're okay with this?"
"Not at all, but I know when to pick my battles. Harding's not the person to battle right now." She blew out her breath as the van pulled into the White Pine compound. She exited the vehicle then twirled on Masood as he exited behind her. She lowered her voice. "Who knew where we were going?"
"You, me, Cowboy, Harding…" Masood paused thinking. "Gunner. The crew who readied the aircraft would know it was going out, but not the destination. I cannot think of anyone else." He paused. "Do you really think there's a spy?"
"Damn right," Megan said, watching the van roll toward the hanger where it usually parked.
Jake looked around. It was past curfew and there was no one about.
"Forget it." Megan walked toward the barracks. "I'll figure it out."
Jake caught up with her and glanced back to Masood, who headed toward the main base building. With a slight grunt, he got her attention. "Here." He handed her the body armor.
Megan took it as she stopped. She looked around then caught his eye. "Truthfully Jake, I was to recruit you using any means necessary."
"Why?"
Megan shrugged.
"When did you get these orders?"
"The assignment came before you showed up in Germany. I didn't read it until during the plane ride here. It was after we talked."
Jake's eyes narrowed. "Was it a game? Were you playing me all this time?" His heart was squeezing tighter and tighter―his gut twisted in knots. He didn't, no, couldn't believe it. He didn't want to.
Megan glanced at the ground then around the open courtyard. She looked at him and smiled. "I'm not that good, or I'd be in their 'whore squad.' No. I don't pimp myself even for the good of my country, Cupcake."
Jake smiled back. "Good. I'd hate to think I fell for a fake."
Megan blushed.
"Who's the leak?" Jake asked softly, almost a whisper.
Megan frowned. "I don't know, but this is the second time in Afghanistan that something funny has happened. That oil line was not… And it happened once in Iraq, but that could be a different…" She shook her head. "I think someone is trying to make me look bad." She grinned.
Jake frowned instead. "You mean get you killed?"
"Same thing in this business."
"So, how serious is Harding about recruiting me?"
"Very. They want you, badly. We're short on personnel right now. Very short. And they need people who can speak the language in Iraq. You fit their bill to a tee."
"But you think it would be a mistake for me to take the job?" Jake asked seriously.
"Jake…" Megan stopped, then as though she changed her mind, shook her head. "It's your decision. You're a big boy. I just… It takes a certain kind of person to do the things they want." She caught his deep, brooding blue eyes. "I'd hate to see such a good person turn into a stubborn, pigheaded bastard."
Jake said nothing. It seemed that she was being sincere at least.
Megan lightly touched his arm, just a brush. "Thanks for the help, Jake."
"My hero streak strikes again." He winked.
"Good thing." She started moving toward the building. "Now, if I can just get you to follow orders."
***
After working security at the runway the next day, Jake and the rest of the crew had two days off. He decided to hitch a ride to the military base to visit Gunner. The Chilean was still in critical condition, but the doctors expected him to live. However, according to Megan who gave them the news at the crew meeting the day before, Gunner would be leaving White Pine due to disability when he healed. As a matter of fact, as soon as he was off the critical list, he'd be shipped back to the States to finish his recovery.
Jake tried to find Megan to see if she wanted to go with him to visit Gunner, but she was nowhere to be found. Cowboy told him he had seen her first thing in her office on the phone, but after that he didn't see her again.
After visiting Gunner, Jake headed back to Chicken Street to buy another piece of jewelry. He was dropped off right outside the shop by one of the White Pine vehicles. He'd walk back to the compound.
This time he bought another Lapis Lazuli piece similar to the last one. He also purchased an orange/red necklace of Carnelian, worked in silver. The orange colored gems were oblong beads threaded with a silver chain. Two of the Carnelian stones were elegantly encased in silver, and the centerpiece of the necklace was a large, lighter, almost translucent, orange gem.
Again the shop clerk seemed to be especially proud of the Lapis Lazuli piece as he wrapped each necklace in a red silk cloth in similar fashion as last time. He pointed out to Jake a small silver bracelet with several small Lapis Lazuli stones imbedded in silver. It was elegant yet not imposing. It spoke of strength with a touch of feminism.
Jake shook his head at first. He had enough now to send something to everyone, but as he reached the door of the shop, he stopped. His eyes flew back to the bracelet. He seemed to be drawn to the silver bracelet for some reason. He had no idea why, but buying it felt right. So with a smile, he nodded and pointed at the piece.
The shop clerk laughed, but quickly wrapped it up.
Wondering why he succumbed to buying it, he stood a few feet from the door checking out the area. Now that he had this much jewelry stuffed into his pants pockets, he needed to make sure that he didn't fall prey to local hoodlums. As he did his security check, he vaguely thought he heard shouting. He cocked his head, and sure enough there was shouting from a side street not far away.
His eyes panned the streets to see several of the ever-present street urchins heading his way. Suddenly the four boys stopped and glanced back toward the side street. Within seconds and like a wisp of fog, the boys disappeared from sigh
t.
Jake frowned, but decided to follow the wise example of the street kids. If they feared the shouting enough to miss getting candy, there was probably a good reason why he too should 'disappear.' He stepped back into the recess of the shop doorway. A glance inside showed that the store clerk had disappeared too. He wished desperately that he understood the language.
Jake peeked out of his hiding place to see a turbaned man burst from the side street, then race down the street toward him. He frowned, this was the same guy from the coffee house and here in the jewelry store. His gut yelled to stop this guy.
The turbaned man turned to look behind him as he ran. It seemed from the shouting, that the guy had put some distance between him and his pursuers. He carried a small bundle in his hands and switched his hold on it, carrying it more like a football now.
Jake waited until the man was almost even with him, then stepped out. He lifted his hands to stop the guy, but the turbaned man's speed just increased as he refocused on running. Not having the time or ability to stop the collision, the guy ran headlong into Jake, even as Jake tried to step out of his way. They both fell to the ground in a heap.
A curse escaped the man's mouth. An English curse word. Familiar.
Jake, on the top, took a closer look at the man. His eyes focused on the face, this time at extremely close range. He couldn't keep the shocked look off of his face. The big brown eyes were beginning to focus. "Megan?"
"Damn," Megan said again as she tried pushing Jake off her.
"What are you…?"
"Shut up. And lower your voice," Megan said glancing around. "Get off me."
Jake quickly jumped up, pulling her up too.
Megan, dressed as a man, looked behind her with a grimace. The shouting was getting louder. "Crap." She turned to Jake and pressed the bundle into his stomach. "Don't ask questions," she whispered. "Take it to base. Hurry."
"Chief?" Jake grabbed the bundle with a puzzled look.
"Do it. Now." She didn't wait, but took off across the street, pretending to still carry the bundle.
Jake followed her with still stunned eyes. Out of the corner of his eye, two other turbaned men exited the side street. With a quick step, he moved back into the recess of the shop and hid the bundle.
He watched as they pointed down the street at a slower moving Megan. It was obvious she was waiting for them to see her. She was providing a diversion. They followed, yelling, and Jake saw her once more pick up speed and disappear around another corner.
He looked at the bundle. With a slight shrug, he slowly walked back to base holding the bundle as he had seen Megan carrying it, cradling it like a football―alert and on guard.
Whatever it was, she had risked her life in more than one way to get it. Besides stealing it, he was sure, if she was caught and discovered, they would beat her to death. Jake shook his head. Why do I always get involved with these 'different kind' of women? For once, I'd like to have a normal relationship.
***
Jake sat in Megan's office an hour later. He had his arms crossed and looked pissed off. Megan hesitated as she crossed the threshold, but continued into the room. She was dressed in her normal khaki pants and black shirt. Silently, she moved behind the desk. She pulled out her chair to find that Jake had 'hidden' the bundle on it. She transferred the bundle to the desk and sat down.
She smiled. "Thanks for the help."
He didn't do anything. He didn't smile. He didn't nod. He didn't blink.
Megan sighed. "I guess you'd like an explanation."
Jake uncrossed his arms.
"Close the door."
Jake leaned back and swung the door closed. He returned his stare at her.
With a swallow, Megan began to unbundled the package. She could tell that he hadn't taken it apart since it was still wrapped as she had stolen it. "It's not what you're thinking."
He merely motioned with his hand to explain.
"Before the Russians left, they were excavating large parts of the country. In one archeological dig, they came across a huge find of gold, ivory, and things that dated back two thousand years to old Silk Road Bactrian times and earlier. It was an impressive find. The value of the works was, well, invaluable. When the Taliban took over, these valuable pieces of Afghanistan history disappeared. Scholars feared that they had melted down the gold or sold it piecemeal, or worse destroyed it, like the Bamiyan Buddhas."
Jake's mad face softened to a more neutral look.
Megan stopped unwrapping the package as she spoke. "Do you know the story of the Bamiyan Buddhas?"
"No."
"Well, in the Bamiyan Valley…" She waved her hand in a westerly direction. "Centuries ago two huge Buddhas were carved into the cliffs. Then in 2001, the Taliban went on a rampage destroying images 'offensive to Islam.' The world tried to convince them not to destroy the statues. But they did it anyway. It sparked an outage around the world among archaeologists and historians. Now all that exists are the two coves where the Buddhas once stood. Anyway, during that time and still going on today is the selling of Afghanistan artifacts. There is a huge trade in Pakistan. Anyone with money can buy a piece of ancient Afghanistan.
"When the Taliban took over, many loyal Afghans hid or, in any way possible, tried to preserve national treasures. For example, some workers at the National Film Institute built a false wall to conceal the room where the negatives of scores of movies were kept. Many were documentaries on the antiquities that the Taliban were destroying. In some cases, pictures of those things are all that is left for the world to see. In the National Gallery of Art, some painters actually went to the building and began a series of deceptions. They painted in watercolor over offensive parts of the oil paintings. After the Taliban fell, they wiped the water paints off." Megan leaned back in her chair. She stared at the bundle on her desk as she spoke. Finally, she looked up at Jake.
"And what does that have to do with this?" he asked, pointing at the bundle.
"Those Bactrian artifacts I mentioned were one of the things that were feared destroyed or melted down for the gold. Several days ago, I got a tip from a source that part of the collection was still in tact, but that it was being shipped to Pakistan to be sold to the highest bidder in order to finance al Qaeda. I managed to find out where and when." She leaned forward and unwrapped the last layer.
A jumble of items lay in a pile: ivory figurines, coins, and a couple of clay figures. The one that caught the eye was a shiny, gold necklace in the middle.
Megan reached out, gently extracted the small necklace from the pile and handed it to Jake. "This is part of Afghanistan history. What you hold is worth hundreds of thousands, if not millions of dollars."
Jake stared at the small gold discs and what looked like maybe leaves stamped out of gold. All were held together with finely hammered, golden links. It fit in the palm of his hand. After studying it, he looked up at Megan.
She righted the remaining items in the bundle. "This is an ivory statue that I would guess is from about the same time period. This clay mask-like looking thing is probably older." She gently laid them on the desk. "Here's a small piece from maybe the same type of necklace that you hold in your hand." It was another small disc of gold. "And there are maybe twelve or fifteen ancient coins here too." Megan leaned back.
Jake's eyes panned the items. Then he gently laid the gold necklace back with the other items. "What are you going to do with them? And, did you steal them?"
Megan gave him a wry grin. "You bet I stole them. Damn right. The al Qaeda guys have no right to them, least of all to be financing more terrorist acts." She leaned forward, picked up the phone and dialed an extension. "Could you come to my office? Thanks."
"What are you going to do with them?"
"Wait," Megan said, her smile softening as she covered the items with a single fold of the cloth.
Within minutes, there was a knock on her door. Jake leaned back and opened it.
Fahim walked in with a puzzled l
ook. "Yes?"
Megan smiled. "Close the door, Jake." She waited until Jake had done so. "Have I got a surprise for you, Fahim."
Fahim smiled back as he took the other chair in the room. "Yes?"
Megan uncovered the items with a flourish.
Fahim's eyes took in the artifacts then he moved closer. His face went from puzzled to shocked to astonished in seconds as he recognized the items on the desk. He slowly looked up at Megan. "Is that…?"
"Yep. A uh, source, clued me into a situation and I, with Jake's help, managed to secure these items. They won't be smuggled out of the country as planned." Megan glanced at Jake who was smiling as he watched Fahim take in the artifacts.
Lifting his face to look at Megan, Fahim had tears in his eyes. "I thought that… We feared they were lost forever." He reached out and reverently touched the gold necklace. "This is…" He lapsed into Pashtu for the rest of his sentence.
Megan nodded with a huge grin on her face. "You're welcome, Fahim. Can I ask you a favor?"
"Anything. Anything at all." Fahim's eyes riveted on the pieces.
"Can you make sure that these artifacts make it back to their appropriate places?"
"Absolutely." He tenderly began to bundle them up. "This is a great day in Afghanistan history. We will never forget your contribution―"
"Stop, Fahim," Megan interrupted him. "You know you can never tell where you found them. My name can't be connected. Secrecy. Remember? Say they were left at the gate or something."
"But how can we properly thank you?" Fahim once more had tears in his eyes.
"Your reaction is thanks enough, and so is getting them back where they belong, so the world can enjoy them too."
Fahim bowed to her. "Consider it done." His face was lighting up the room as he began to leave.
"One more thing, Fahim," Megan said before he reached the door.
"Yes?"
"Rumor has it that there might be treasures in the presidential palace buried in a vault long forgotten." Megan winked. "Perhaps you could investigate and contact the right people to look into this?"
