Bernadette stopped at the entry of the helicopter and looked at Chris. He was in handcuffs; a soldier was leading him to his helicopter. Chris stopped and turned, he smiled that big dumb grin of his, the one that made her madly in love with him or made her want to kill him for something stupid he’d done. At that moment, her joy of finding him was shattered by the possibility she might lose him again. And this time, there were even greater forces aligned against both of them.
41
The trip back to Kandahar seemed a blur to Bernadette. Jason was on a stretcher with an IV in his arm in the center of the helicopter, Reza sat across from him, and Almas stayed by her side. He rested his head on her shoulder and held her hand. He knew what had happened, understood the consequences of what would happen to Chris.
The chopper landed at the Kandahar Air Force base. Chris was hustled into a waiting Afghan military vehicle. Police Chief Khan was there to greet them. He smiled at Agent Lackey as his men took Chris into custody. They spoke for a moment and parted.
Bernadette held back in the chopper, not wanting Khan to see her. She was an escapee from his custody. She couldn’t do anything for Chris inside an Afghan jail. She watched Chris leave and got out of the chopper. Lackey approached her.
“I got the charges against you dropped by Police Chief Kahn,” Lackey said.
Bernadette nodded at her. “You know, normally I’d thank you, but with Chris in custody, you know it’s a pretty moot point.”
Lackey shrugged. “I guess it is.” She turned to walk away. “Oh, I had your things picked up from our compound. I’d thought you’d want them. Sergeant Hammer will have them for you.”
Bernadette saw Jason on the stretcher. Reza was still beside him. He was awake; eyes clear, searching her face.
“Hey, Bernadette, seems I got my bell rung pretty good,” Jason said.
Bernadette knelt beside his stretcher. “Hey, you need to take care of yourself. I’m sure they’ll check you out and after some rest you’ll be fine.”
Jason raised his head off the stretcher. “Not a chance. Look, these NATO guys are going to drop me off at the Kandahar hospital and be done with me. I’ve had worse than this. I’ll be fine in a few hours, then you and me—we’re getting back to work. You hear me?”
Bernadette felt a rush of admiration at his determination. “Okay, it’s on. I’m going back to the Continental Guest House. You can contact me there.”
“I’m glad he’s okay. I would have hated to have to report him as KIA, too much paperwork,” Lackey said with her hand on the door of her ride. She got into a black Suburban and sped away.
Bernadette stood there with her hands on her hips as she watched Lackey’s vehicle disappear and Jason being put into an ambulance. She needed a plan. She needed an internet connection and a phone…and a large scotch.
Sergeant Hammer came up beside her. “Can I drop you somewhere?”
“Yeah, that same guest house you found me at last week,” Bernadette said. She turned to Reza. “I can take Almas again if you like.”
“Maybe he should come with me,” Reza said. “You have much to do. My wife would like it if Almas came to our home.”
“Can you explain that to Almas?”
Reza spoke to Almas and the boy hugged Bernadette hard. “Inshallah, you set him free,” Almas said.
“Yes, Almas, God willing I will set Chris free,” Bernadette said, kissing Almas on the head.
Hammer sent Reza and Almas off in a Humvee and took Bernadette in another. They rode in silence. The streets seemed deserted. Little traffic was on the road.
“Is there some kind of religious holiday going on?” Bernadette asked.
Hammer looked away, then he turned to her. “The word is out that the infidel who stole the robe has been caught. The entire town is getting ready for a celebration tonight.”
Bernadette didn’t know what to say. Kandahar was excited that Chris had been caught. There was no robe, but somehow having him to vent their anger on would be enough. This was the worst case of frontier justice she’d ever seen. She was too numbed by the events to think—but she had to. Fatigue was wracking her body, her eyes wanted to close. She pinched her arm to pull herself awake.
The Humvee arrived in front of the Continental Guest House and Hammer looked at her for a second. “I’m sorry about your man.”
Bernadette let out a breath. She spoke quietly, “Are you sorry he’s being used? Sorry he’s being set up? Sorry you’re a part of this?”
“I…look…I’m truly am sorry,” Hammer said, “I came here to defend my country and kill those Taliban bastards. The events of today? Well, I know they don’t add up. Maybe it’s too much for a soldier like me to understand.” He looked down; his face had become noticeably red.
Bernadette put her hand on Hammer’s arm. “You’re a good man, Sergeant, I know you’re just doing your job, but that’s the problem, the whole world is doing their job and following the orders of some crazy ass politicians and bureaucrats who don’t see what we see.”
She got out of the Humvee, took her bag out of the back, and walked into the courtyard. She met Aaron and his Uncle Jangi Shah. They bowed with their hands over their hearts as she entered.
“Salam Aleichem, I need a room, a computer, a new untraceable phone, and a scotch if it’s available,” Bernadette said.
“Of course,” Jangi Shah said. He turned to Aaron, giving him instructions, and in a few minutes Bernadette was in a similar room to the one she’d been a week ago.
Bernadette looked around the sparse room. “Same old, same old.” She realized the first thing she needed was a shower, more to clear her head, but also because the smell that rose from her body was somewhere between barnyard and locker room.
She threw her clothes in a pile, put on the cool water, and did as much time under the shower as her body could withstand to make herself clean. Toweling off, she got some fresh clothes and felt ready to do battle.
A knock on the door from Aaron brought the arrival of a new phone, a small carafe of scotch, and some pistachio nuts.
Aaron bowed and brought his hand to his heart. “My uncle and I are both saddened for the events. We are so sorry for your fiancé, Madame.”
Bernadette smiled at Aaron. “I thank you for your concern. Please tell your uncle to add the phone to my bill.”
Aaron shook his head. “No, this is complements of my uncle. Not all Afghans are in league with the devil such as the government is. Most of us are simple people who do not want to prosper on the shoulders of others.”
“You are very eloquent, Aaron, I thank you for your words.”
Aaron bowed and walked out.
Bernadette poured herself a scotch, chewed on some nuts, and went about looking over the phone. It had already been activated. She checked the time. It was 1400 hours, 2 p.m. Afghanistan time. What was the time change to western Canada? She did a quick calculation, realized it was really too early to be calling—then started to dial.
A sleepy voice muttered, “Hello?”
“Anton, it’s me, Bernadette.”
“It’s two a.m. here. Who else could it be?” Anton asked.
“I need your help—I’m desperate.”
“I saw the intel about Chris being picked up before I went to bed last night. I tried to call you but got no answer,” Anton said.
“I was a kind of occupied,” Bernadette said. She brushed the hair off her face, trying to block out the memory of the firefight.
“Yeah, I read the report. You were in a hell of a fire fight,” Anton said.
“We made it out alive, but they’ve taken Chris prisoner on charges of stealing the robe. I need to clear his name before some imam decides to remove his head to make his followers feel better.”
“What do you need?”
“You remember my request for information about Caprinski?”
“Yeah, yeah, I have it right here, I was reading it before I went to bed,” Anton said.
“Lo
oks like Caprinski parties hard in Dubai. He goes there every three months, spends a ton of dough at one of the finest hotels and casinos, and drops himself into a big vat of alcohol.”
“Sounds about right for the guy I saw. Did you see any other names of people he traveled with?”
“Yeah, Agent Lackey,” Anton said. “They came on separate flights but stayed at the same hotel. Sometimes the same room.”
“Holy shit, now that’s something.” Bernadette let out a whistle and took a swig of her scotch.
“Here’s the real down and dirty on this. I sent out a quiet enquiry to some of our friends in the field. You know, the ones who like to dish dirt. You wouldn’t believe how much the German and French agents love scandal,” Anton said.
“And?”
“Lackey and Caprinski were seen at many parties locking lips and doing the nasty on the dance floor, sorry that’s code for almost consuming each other during the music.”
“I’ll be damned. Here I was, wondering who could find a hole in the satellite surveillance. Had to be Lackey giving Caprinski the times, he then had Chris and his men taken with no photos to trace them,” Bernadette said.
“I have no idea. All I can see is that Lackey has been in a relationship with Caprinski going back to two months ago when they were both in Dubai last. I could send you pictures if you want,” Anton said.
“Send them to this phone,” Bernadette said.
“Sure, you got it, Bernadette. One other thing, you can use the Canadian Consulate. They don’t have a lot of pull there, but a lady named Chandra Gupta is quite capable.”
“That’s the person I totally pissed off when I arrived. Remember you told me she was trying to get me booted out of here.”
“I’ll make it right with her. Reach out to her for anything you need. And Bernadette?”
“Yes?”
“Try not to piss off anyone else for the next few hours while I try to arrange some things for you—can you do that?”
“That’s a big ask, but I’m about to get some sleep, so hopefully yes, there will be no further people contacts from me.”
“Great, that’s all I ask. Now that I’m totally awake at this ridiculous hour, I’ll start to work on whatever I can do for you.”
“Anton, you are amazing. Thank you.”
She put her phone down, drained the rest of her glass of scotch, and felt a weariness descend over her brain as if a curtain had lowered itself. She realized in her trek over the mountains she had hardly slept. Maybe a few hours, or was it a few minutes in two days?
She decided she would allow herself a quick nap and then do some research on the hotel’s computer followed by a phone call to Chandra Gupta to maybe patch over their misunderstanding.
Then she would write out her game plan for the next day. She had some hard questions for Lackey and Caprinski, and she couldn’t wait to see their faces when she confronted them. A small smile formed at her lips when she lay on the bed. She looked at her clock it, it showed 1415, she told herself she would power nap for twenty minutes.
Closing her eyes, she fell into a deep and dreamless sleep. Her eyes would not open again for sixteen hours.
42
A constant knocking entered Bernadette’s brain. She wondered why no one was answering the door. She called out to her grandmother, but she didn’t answer. She called to Chris, and he said he was in the shower, couldn’t get there. Her eyes opened like the aperture on a camera lens trying to find some light for a dim exposure.
Her head rolled over to the clock. It said 0800, which meant what? It dawned on her. It was 8 a.m.
“Holy mother of god,” Bernadette shouted. “I’ve been asleep for…” She rubbed sleep from her eyes as it dawned on her. “…forever.”
She pushed herself off the bed and went to the door. Aaron was there with a message.
“Madam, a gentleman named Jason has been calling you, her says he does not have your cell number anymore. He wants you to call him at this number.”
“Thank you, Aaron,” Bernadette said.
“I will have coffee for you and the special Afghani breakfast you like as soon as you wish in the dining room, Madame.”
Bernadette looked at the message from Jason. Do nothing, go nowhere until you’ve contacted me.
Bernadette dialed the number, Jason answered on the first ring. “Who is this?”
“Hey, Jason, it’s me, I got a new phone. I realized that Lackey was tracking us using our phones.”
Jason laughed. “Funny you say that, I got rid of mine. This is a new burner phone as well. Do you have a microwave in your room?”
Bernadette looked around her small room and noticed an ancient looking microwave in the corner, “Yeah, I do, why?”
“Put your old phone in there, it stops all GPS signals.”
Thanks, I’ll do that, so what’s with the ominous message? Kind of scary before coffee at this hour.”
“There’s a fatwa on you.”
“A fat—what?”
“A fatwa, it’s a religious edict. In this case it’s your death sentence. Sardar Agha doesn’t like the fact that you’re free. He knows you’ll move heaven and earth to free Chris. He wants Chris executed for the missing robe. He’s tying up loose ends.”
“So, I’m a loose end?”
“Sorry, girl, that’s the size of it. Any Muslim who kills you gets some special points for heaven. Kind of major bullshit, I want you to know that the mainstream Muslims don’t believe in this crap.”
“Really, Jason, when did you become a mainstream Muslim?”
“I had a vision from the prophet Bernadette while I was on trek in the mountains recently.”
Bernadette smiled. “Can you get to my guesthouse? I’m about to chow down on some great Afghani breakfast with some really good coffee. You care to join me? That is if you can hang out with someone who has a fatwa hanging over them?”
“I’ll be there in twenty minutes,” Jason said. “Now, as I said, go nowhere. Stay in your guesthouse. I’ll get you a disguise so we can get you around Kandahar.”
“Oh great, that must mean me in a burka. Have I told you how much I hate those?”
“I think you have, several times. But just remember, we can put some pretty cool stuff under a burka. See you soon.”
Bernadette closed her phone then headed for the bathroom to wash her face and comb her hair. Today, she knew, was going to be the day for one hell of a hunt for the truth.
Chris sat in his cell in the police station. He felt he’d gone up a notch in his confinement. The food was slightly better although the smell was decidedly worse. He missed the smell of goats and the mountain air already. A light came through the window announcing morning, the second call to prayer was sounding outside, telling him it was around 0800 hours.
He’d asked for a representative from the Canadian Consulate to visit him. In his own mind, he knew it was a long shot. Consulates replaced your lost visa or passport, let you call home if you ran out of money, but when it came to something important like trouble with another country’s legal system, you were on your own. They could wage strong complaints to the government and that was about it.
Chris could see some foreign diplomat, fresh from university, walking into an Afghan’s office after Chris’ head had been detached from his body and giving them a strong letter of indignation. The letter would be well written—and way too late.
He would ask them to get him an Afghani lawyer, although he knew no lawyer would be able to go up against an imam, especially one who wanted to use him as an example. But he would make an attempt, do his best, and hope that just maybe, Bernadette would be able to find some evidence that would clear him. He knew she was his only chance.
43
Bernadette walked into the dining room to see that Jason was already there. He was smiling and looking sober, a welcome surprise. A large bandage covered his head, giving him a mystical appearance.
“Hey Bernadette,” Jason said as she a
pproached. “You’re right about the coffee. This is the real thing.” He held up his cup as if it was the finest liquid he’d ever tasted.
Aaron poured Bernadette a coffee, and she mixed in some milk and sugar. “Totally, thanks Aaron.”
Aaron told them he would bring them both the Afghani breakfast of eggs swimming in a bed of tomatoes and spices with Naan bread.
“So much better that MRE rations served cold in the mountains, don’t you think?” Bernadette asked.
“Copy that.” Jason watched as Aaron walked away. “I have heard on the Afghani rumor mill the imam wants a real quick trial.”
“How much time do we have?”
“I’d say forty-eight hours—tops.”
“Doesn’t he get a lawyer?”
“Sure, he does. The guy will show up, make a couple of arguments, the imam will quote a bunch of stuff from the holy Quran, and the lawyer will sit down and shut up,” Jason said.
“So, we have to find Lund and the robe, or just the robe to get him off?”
Jason sipped his coffee. “That’s it. No other way.”
“I think I may have something,” Bernadette said. “I found out Lackey and Caprinski were having an affair in Dubai.”
“So? That shit happens all the time here. Dubai is the place everyone here goes to for sin and relaxation,” Jason said.
“I’ve got a hunch. I think I see some dots that need some connecting.”
Jason stared at Bernadette as if he could see something forming in her brain. He waited while Aaron placed their breakfast in front of them.
“Are you thinking of going after Lackey?” Jason asked.
“Let’s say I’ve got a few pointed questions for her,” Bernadette replied.
“She’s one hell of a tough customer, and so is Caprinski for that matter. Make sure I’m with you when you see him.”
Bernadette took a piece of her naan bread, dipped it in her eggs, and swallowed. She almost closed her eyes at the delicious taste.
Caught In The Crossfire: A Bernadette Callahan Mystery Page 21