The Only Reason: A Novel (Trident Trilogy: Book Two)

by Donna Schwartze

  “How did Millie find out about Azayiz?” Mack asks, confused.

  “It’s a long story, Mack. Really. It’s too much for right now. Do you have anything you need to pack or whatever?”

  “I can’t leave, Chase. I’m not allowed back in the U.S.”

  “Yeah. I know about all the conditions you agreed to, but you’re coming back. I don’t care if I have to knock you out and carry you. You go to jail if you have to, but you’re coming back with us. At least Millie can visit you in jail.”

  Mack takes a deep breath, his eyes shifting back and forth across the room. “Is Millie with them? The team that’s coming in?”

  “I don’t know. The last real satellite reception we got was in Gabhirat. Raine found Azayiz’s family home and told Culver that’s where we were headed. He’s sending some helos in to grab us.”

  “Culver? Harry Culver?”

  I laugh. “Yeah. He’s a captain now—in charge of all the teams in Virginia Beach.”

  “That seriously might be the most shocking thing you’ve said yet,” Mack says, shaking his head.

  Raine walks back in. “Chase,” she says, holding up her binoculars, “I think we have incoming to the north.”

  I grab my pistol out of my waistband. Mack grabs my arm and opens a closet door. It’s full of weapons and ammunition.

  “What’s this?” I ask him, admiring the small arsenal.

  He hands me an old-body AK. “That’s too long of a story, too. Let’s just say, I haven’t been sitting on my ass these last nine years,” he says, smiling. “I’ve got kind of a ham radio setup here too, if you think you can use it to get to Culver.”

  “Do you know how to do that?” I say, looking at Raine.

  “Yeah, I can figure it out,” she says, grabbing the radio out of the closet.

  I take her binoculars and look out the window. I see the movement to the north. It looks like team movement. “I think it’s our guys, but just to be sure,” I say, lining up my rifle on the window sill.

  Mack settles in at the only other window. We wait for a few minutes until we can see the movement more clearly. The leader holds up his hand to stop the approach.

  “Chase!” I hear Mason yell.

  “Yeah, man. We’ve got you covered the rest of the way. Door is on the south side,” I say as I go outside to greet them.

  Chapter Thirty-Five

  Millie

  Kalasha Valley, Pakistan

  2020

  “What do you mean she jumped off the wall?” I ask, laughing.

  “I mean she said she was a princess warrior, spread her arms like wings, and jumped.” Aza glances at me, her face glowing. “Three meters later, she is lying at the bottom of the wall—wailing—holding her broken leg.”

  “Ow. Poor thing. I’m sure it hurt.” I’m trying to imagine what my mom looked like at the bottom of that wall.

  “Her father tried to scold her as he was picking her up to take her to the hospital. He was smiling, though. He secretly loved her independence. She was one of his only weaknesses.”

  I take a deep breath as my heart drops. It seems like I have something else in common with my mom. Aza reaches over to hold my hand for at least the tenth time. In the past three hours on our drive, I’ve heard story after story about my mom. It’s been lovely and painful. After every story, Aza asks me if she should go on. I want her to go on forever.

  She squeezes my hand and lets go. “We are getting close to the valley. There will likely be guards at some point along the road. The Kalasha do not much like outsiders. Climb into the back seat and wrap your scarf around your head until only your eyes are showing. I will tell them you are my guest to visit my family. Try not to say anything to them. Don’t speak in Pashto. We don’t want to let them know you understand it. Only speak English or Urdu.”

  “I only know a little bit of Urdu,” I say, climbing into the back seat.

  “English is fine. Your accent would give you away anyway.”

  When we turn off the main road in Gabhirat toward the Birir Valley, the roads—if that’s what you can call them—get steeper and much skinnier. Aza is driving them like a pro, but I’m still half convinced we’re going to go off the side of the mountain. As much as I want to hear more stories about Mom, I decide to keep quiet and let Aza concentrate on driving. My mind just has a second to think about what I might find at the end of this road when I see a guard station ahead of us.

  Aza pulls up next to the guard and speaks to him in a language I don’t understand. I’m assuming it’s Kalasha. He points back to me a few times. I look down at the floorboard to make sure Alex’s Glock hasn’t slipped out of its hiding place under the passenger’s seat. It hasn’t. My .38 is still strapped to my leg. I’ve already checked the mag on the Glock—15 rounds, two spent. With both guns, I have sixteen rounds. I’ve never shot a Glock, but I’m guessing I can still get a shot in this guy’s head from two feet away.

  Aza reaches into her dress and pulls out a roll of cash. She gives the guard the entire roll and we’re on our way. I don’t even ask who the guard was. I’m guessing he’s friendly to the Kalasha people with the respect he showed Aza. He’s not a threat. I’m guessing our threats lie ahead as we wind our way closer to the Afghanistan border.

  When we finally start descending into the Kalasha Valley, the site takes my breath away. The emerald green valley with snow-capped mountains behind it reminds me of a Swiss village. There’s a beautiful crystal-blue river running through the town. As we get closer, I see tiny wooden houses built into the foothills. We stop at one of them.

  “My grandparents’ house,” Aza says as she turns and smiles at me. “My son lives here now. Let’s go in. Remember only English. We don’t want anyone to know you understand Pashto.”

  I take a deep breath. I’m hoping she has a secret son no one knows about, but I’m guessing we’re talking about Fareed—the man who kidnapped me with Yusef Hadzic. This would be the perfect location for him. It’s just east of the Hindu Kush. He could have gone easily between wherever Sayid’s network was hiding in the mountains to this house. I decide quickly not to bring the Glock. I don’t have a good place to hide it. My .38 has three rounds. I hope it’s enough.

  The door to the house is so short that I have to duck to get in. When I straighten up, I see Fareed sitting at a rickety kitchen table. There’s a teapot hanging over the small fire in the fireplace to his left. A mattress takes up what’s left of the room. He’s alone, and he’s staring right at me.

  “Hi, Fareed,” I say as calmly as possible. “I haven’t seen you since you kidnapped me a few months back. I hope you’ve been well.”

  He doesn’t smile. Apparently, my sarcasm is lost on him. He turns to Aza and says in Pashto, “Why is she here?”

  “She is my niece and your cousin. She’s here to visit,” Aza says, not looking at him. She gets two small cups off the counter and motions for me to sit on the other chair at the table as she pours me a cup of tea.

  “Was I right about her trying to trap you for the CIA?” Fareed says in Pashto.

  “You were right that it was the plan, but she helped me escape. She’s working both sides of the equation. You know something about that.” Aza goes to the fire to warm her hands. Fareed doesn’t reply to her last statement.

  “So it looks like neither one of us died in Sarajevo. Are you looking to finish the job this time?” I say to Fareed, still speaking in English, as instructed by Aza.

  His eyes narrow as his stare becomes more aggressive. “I saved your life that day,” he says.

  “Really? That’s not how I remember it. I remember you putting a hood over my head and shoving me into a car.”

  “Yusef wanted to kill you right there on the road. I stopped him from doing that and got you to your uncle Sayid. I knew he wouldn’t kill you.”

  My mind goes
back to that day as I suddenly remember Fareed yelling at Yusef to not touch me. I also remember him handling me as gently as he could under the circumstances.

  “Why didn’t you let him kill me?”

  “Because Sayid wanted to see you—again—before he died. He hadn’t seen you since your dad took you when you were only a few months old.”

  “How did you escape the house when the SEAL team arrived?”

  “Just like your dad did—through a tunnel.”

  Aza stands behind him now, shaking her head—her eyes fixed on me. I’m guessing by her panicked look, I shouldn’t mention we are here to look for Dad. I look back at Fareed.

  “How did you know to get in the tunnel? How did you know they were coming?”

  “Why do you think I didn’t search you? I knew you had a phone. Sayid wanted them to rescue you. He was going to kill Yusef and himself that day no matter what. He wanted you to get out.”

  “Why didn’t Yusef search me?”

  “Because he was as dumb as a chicken.”

  “All the other men in the house died.”

  “We had to make it look real.” He shrugs. “With Sayid gone, I had no interest in carrying on with the network. He asked me, and I said no. We made the plan that everyone had to die except for me and hopefully you.”

  He sees the confused look on my face.

  “You were his niece. You are my cousin,” he says. “We both loved Nejra. You were a baby. You had no fault for what happened. Your dad, on the other hand . . .”

  My mind finally goes back to my dad. That’s why I’m here. I don’t expect to find him, but I need to know.

  “How long have you lived here?” I ask Fareed.

  “Only a few days, actually. I lived in the mountains with the network most of the time. I went to visit Mom in Islamabad before she went into hiding. I was—how do you say it?—a vagabond. When Mom called me and told me she was hoping to move here, I came down from the mountains.”

  “Yes, and I’m glad Millie could be our first guest,” Aza says. “I’m going to take her up the road to show her some of the other houses. We’ll be back soon.”

  She looks at me and nods toward the door. I stand up.

  Fareed says in Pashto, “Why are you going up there? You just got here after a long trip. What’s going on, Momma?”

  “Nothing is going on,” Aza replies in Pashto. “She’s enchanted by the valley and wants to see more of it. And there used to be a boarding-house up that way. Do you think she’s going to stay here and sleep on the mattress with us?”

  “I’ll go with you,” he says as he stands up.

  “That’s not necessary,” she says quickly.

  “Momma, there are people looking for you. They have to know you will try to hide here. I need to protect you.” He walks over to a small closet and pulls out a rifle.

  I look in the closet quickly before he closes the door. That seems to be the only rifle available. I’ll have to stick to my pistols. We walk out to Aza’s car.

  “I’ll drive,” I say, trying to gain some control over where we go next.

  “You’re bossy like Nejra was,” Fareed says to me. “I’ll drive. Get in the back seat.”

  At least I’ll have easier access to the Glock from the back seat. I get in and push my foot under the seat. I glide the Glock toward me until I can see the barrel. I look up as we start driving. Aza is giving him directions in Pashto. She tells him to drive to a house—that she says is the boarding-house—about a mile up on the left. As we get onto the road, I hear gunfire behind us. I turn around to look out the back window just as it shatters. I’m able to see at least ten men running toward us—still about a hundred feet out. I look back to Fareed as he slams the accelerator into the floor—throwing me against Aza’s seat. I grab the Glock as I’m falling and somehow duck down as another round comes in through the back window. I see blood splatter all over the car as I hear Fareed yell “Momma!” in Bosnian. He grabs for her as the car spins out of control, finally coming to a rest as he slams on the brakes. I crawl out of the car and peek around it. The men—armed with rifles—are still coming at us. Fareed pulls Aza out of the car and tries to stop the bleeding from her head. She’s obviously dead, but he keeps trying. I grab his rifle and start firing at the men. I have two down quickly. They take cover, but I know it’s only going to be a matter of minutes before they realize how lightly armed we are.

  Chapter Thirty-Six

  Mason

  Kalasha Valley, Pakistan

  2020

  When we get to the airport, the helo is ready for takeoff. Culver walks down the ramp of the transport plane toward me. I’ve never seen his face look like this. It’s a weird combination of happy and pissed off.

  “What?” I say when he gets within five feet of me.

  He grabs my arm and pulls me away from the team. “Mack is alive,” he says quietly.

  “Millie’s dad? You can’t be serious.”

  He nods his head slowly—looking like he only half believes it himself. “Chase found him. He’s in the Birir Valley. Apparently, he’s been there the whole time.”

  I take a deep breath, shaking my head. “Millie’s headed that way. JJ put a tracker on a leg holster we brought for her. Unreliable signal, but he got a ping headed north just east of Peshawar.”

  “She’s with her aunt?”

  “Apparently. Not sure if the signal is strong enough to isolate her for a vehicle intervention on the road.”

  “Yeah,” he says. “We couldn’t do that anyway that close to the FATA. If we did, we’d have to grab her and get out of the country. I’m guessing she’s not going to want to go.”

  “I could force her, but I’m not sure that’s the best thing for any of us right now. I swear to God, if she gets killed before she sees him or vice versa, I’m going to fucking lose it.”

  “That’s not going to happen. Get your head in the game and get up to Birir.”

  “My head is firmly in the game.”

  “The birds aren’t going to be able to stay in the region for long. Too close to the Hindu Kush. Lots of heat-seeking missiles in that area. You have to get in and out as quickly as possible. And just so you know, your official mission is to get Chase, Mack, and Raine and meet us at the base in Jalalabad. The agency has officially called off the hunt for Azayiz Custovic, and anyone else who might be with her.”

  I glare at him. “I understand what my official mission is, sir.”

  He nods and pats me on the shoulder. “Glad you understand, Master Chief,” he says and then whispers, “If you leave that valley without her, I’ll shoot you myself.”

  “Roger that,” I say as I head to the helo.

  We land in the valley west of the house where Chase and Raine are apparently with Millie’s dad. I’m still not fully believing he’s alive. We hoof it about a half mile and close in on the back of the house. I see two rifle barrels pointed at us through the windows.

  “Chase!” I yell.

  “Yeah, man. We’ve got you covered the rest of the way. Door is on the south side.”

  Chase is waiting for us on the porch. Butch and I follow him in. The rest of the team stays outside to secure the perimeter.

  “Where’s Millie?” Chase says as we walk in the door. There’s another guy there who I immediately recognize from Millie’s pictures. Seeing him—alive and standing five feet from me—takes my breath away for a second. He still has the bushy dark auburn hair and spiky beard, but the gentle eyes Millie described are hard and cold and staring right at me.

  “We lost her in the hotel,” I manage to get out. “She left with her aunt. They’re headed this way.”

  “You lost her?” Millie’s dad walks up and pushes me on the chest. Probably not the best way to meet your girlfriend’s dad. “How’d you lose her? You new to this job or something?”<
br />
  Chase steps between us. “Mason. This is Millie’s dad, Mack. Mack. This is Millie’s boyfriend, Mason.”

  “Her what?” Mack says. “Her fucking boyfriend is in charge of this mission? Who made that idiot call?”

  I push Chase out of the way and shove my finger in Mack’s face. “Man, fuck you. How about the guy who abandoned his daughter for nine years doesn’t get to have an opinion?”

  He gives me a hard right cross to the jaw. He’s at least a decade older than me, a few inches shorter, and twenty pounds lighter, but he still manages to spin my head around.

  “What did you say to me?” He gets within an inch of my face. I’ve always heard he was tough, but his bravado is unreal. If I didn’t hate him so much right now, I’d be impressed.

  Chase wedges himself between us. “For reasons I truly cannot understand right now, Millie loves both of you, so why don’t we make sure you both get home in one piece?”

  Chase pushes me back. I’m in full body armor with multiple weapons and explosives hanging from me, and he still seems to think I’m the lesser threat. Honestly, I don’t think he’s wrong.

  “Have you tracked her phone?” Chase asks me.

  I pull it out of my vest and hold it up. “She left me a message that she was coming here—Azayiz’s family house in the Birir Valley. Is this it?”

  We both look at Mack. His face changes from deadly to just really pissed off.

  “Their family house is about a half mile southeast of here. No one lives there that I’m aware of,” Mack says, his eyes still firmly on me.

  Just as I’m about to send a few guys down there to check it out, we hear an explosion of rifle fire in the distance.

  “Hawk, where’s it coming from?” I look over to him standing on the porch.

  He turns around and grimaces. “Best I can tell, that’s coming from about a half mile southeast of here.”

  “Fuck.” I lower my microphone.

  “We haven’t gotten any signal here,” Chase says quickly.