by Kim Hornsby
Jamey tried to jump out again. Nothing. Taking a run at it, he was still unsuccessful. Damn it. Stuck didn’t even begin to describe how he felt in this God forsaken dream. At least now he had a tiny glimmer of hope, even though he had no idea what Pops could do from his end.
***
Tina’s eyes opened. It worked. She’d found Jamey. And he wasn’t fine. He was still in the same dream from days ago. Glancing at the time on Jamey’s bedside clock, she saw it was 8:22. Pops wouldn’t be upstairs to get her for another hour and a half, Should she tell him or try to go back in? She lay there for a while, her body aching for Jamey. He’d been waiting for someone to help him. She had to go back in, see if he could jump out with her. Knowing Jamey, he’d be trying to jump out where he’d seen her. He looked mad, more than desperate, like he was pissed off to be still in the dream. That was Jamey.
She closed her eyes again and willed her breathing to slow. Lying there until ten o’clock, Tina tried to get back to him with no success, and when Pops knocked on the door, she sat up. “Come in.”
Pops’ face was full of hope.
“I saw him.” She jumped out of bed, shivering. Grabbing Jamey’s hooded sweatshirt at the end of the bed, she pulled it over her head. “I couldn’t get in fully. He saw me and ran over. I probably looked like a ghost. There was no one there, not a single person or animal, except Jamey. It looked like a deserted town. I asked if he was stuck in the dream, he said for me to tell you. We only had seconds, and even then I was leaving before he spoke.”
“How did he look?”
“Good. Mad. In his own body. He looked normal. Maybe frustrated, but healthy.” They stood looking at each other, until Tina continued. “I couldn’t stay long enough to help him. I’m wondering if he’s out now. Maybe he was able to jump through my portal.”
Pops looked at the floor. “While you were up here, I remembered something. Sergeant Milton phoned here months ago. I wonder if we could find that number and call him.”
“Yes! Was it on the house phone?”
“Yup. I bet it’s in my phone bill somewhere.”
When Pops found the number, he and Tina called. The message was automated. “No messages are retrieved from this number,” it said, but Pops said it beeped, and he had a chance to leave a message. “This is Freud’s father. He’s stuck in there. I have an idea of how to get him out. Please call.”
They waited for an hour to see if Milton would call, and when he hadn’t by 11:15, Tina told Pops she had to get back to Mercer Island. “My mother might be worried.” It sounded ridiculous to say this when they were waiting to find out if Jamey was dead or alive, but Tina’s father had been dead less than a week, and her mother was also a priority.
“Keep your cell phone on in case I hear anything,,” Pops said.
“Any time, night or day,” Tina added, touching his arm. As much as she hated to think of Jamey as a prisoner in a dream, there was nothing she could do from Pops’ kitchen table in Carnation that she couldn’t do at her mother’s house.
She’d have to keep trying to jump, and if that didn’t work she might have to close the distance between her and where Jamey’s real body lay sleeping on a bed in Afghanistan.
Chapter 26
Tina had been gone from Jamey’s dream for about four hours when gunfire started all along the street where he’d found better refuge. Shit! Someone was shooting randomly into the street, starting right where he thought the portal had been. Even though he was well hidden, judging from the angle of the gunfire, Jamey still worried that he might get hit with a stray bullet. He covered his head with his hands when the rapid fire started, and he tucked low, behind a metal overhang.
After a few rounds of this, someone shouted in Afghani from behind the building at the end of the street. “Dream Man! Dream Man. You can come out now. We have you surrounded.”
Laughter followed. How many were there? “Dream Man” was the name Atash used. Maybe there were more jumpers on the Taliban side. The American military underestimated these guys, thinking that all they had was a crazy death wish. They had at least one jumper, but if there were numerous jumpers, Jamey was screwed, royally.
“Dream Man, come out or we will fire again. We know where you are. This time we won’t miss.” It was Atash. One voice. Maybe he was bluffing when he said “we.” Jamey willed himself gone from this dream, but remained rooted to the pile of cement that had once been the corner of a building.
How could Pops help him with no way to get in touch with Milton? You couldn’t just call Afghanistan and ask for Sixth Force in Kandahar. Jamey made calls to a constantly changing number. That was the rule. And even if Milton had the same number as last time, Jamey’s cell phone was back in his barracks in Kandahar. If Pops miraculously got a message to Milton, they still wouldn’t be able to bring him out of the dream. He suspected Sixth Force knew their jumper was stuck and didn’t have a clue how to retrieve him.
Regardless, Jamey had to believe that there was a way out. Stay alive, stay hopeful and most importantly, stay one step ahead of the enemy. Wait until help came. That was the soldier way.
No man left behind.
***
Everyone appeared to be fast asleep when Tina arrived home after midnight. Her mother’s bedroom light was out, and Amy’s bedroom door was shut. Although a note was left for Tina to help herself to pot-roast, eating was the last thing on her mind. Pops hadn’t called on the forty-minute drive back to Mercer Island and she was feeling worse by the hour. Something told her Jamey hadn’t called, which meant that he hadn’t been able to jump out.
Sitting at her father’s desk, Tina logged on to her laptop. The Taliban were mostly in the south, near the Pakistani border, and everything she read online about going to Afghanistan told the traveler to fly to Kabul, not Kandahar. And the way to Afghanistan was through Dubai. What was the likelihood of getting to Kandahar without the visa? Jamey might be dying as he lay in a dream state, unable to wake. She had to go, didn’t she? There was a flight to Dubai through London every few hours. Even if she got on a flight to the U.K. tonight, it would be days before she got to Kandahar. Transfers and visas would see to that. He could be dead in days. How would she ever sleep tonight, worrying about Jamey?
What she wanted the most was to hear that Jamey had jumped out, was fine, and would phone her soon. In the meantime, she’d attempt another dream jump. Maybe, just maybe, getting back in the dream was a possibility. If not, she’d get on that flight to London first thing tomorrow.
Tina pulled back the covers and remembered making love with Jamey in this bed less than two weeks ago. Before she ruined everything by freaking out about the letter. Stripping off her clothes, she let them fall to the floor. Then she set the alarm clock for 6:30 and got into bed naked. Tina remembered what Jamey looked like sleeping next to her. He was a big guy. Smelled nice. Manly. There was a flight at 10:07 tomorrow morning and she’d be on that thing if Pops hadn’t called by then. At the very least, when she landed in the U.K., Jamey might be on his way to Ramstein and she could turn around knowing he was safe. Tina clung to that fantasy in an effort to free her mind of the demons that threatened to keep her from sleeping. Tossing and turning, she mentally packed a bag and planned her trip to Afghanistan.
At 7 a.m., Tina’s mother was surprisingly understanding when she found Tina in the kitchen making coffee with a confirmed travel itinerary on the counter. Of course Tina spun the story to include Jamey being in a coma, being summoned, and the U.S. Military asking her to come.
When Amy saw Tina’s itinerary and realized she was leaving for Kandahar, she spoke up. “Bradley, my son’s eldest boy is with a unit over there. With the Canadians.”
Tina’s interest was piqued. “I’m having trouble messaging Jamey’s unit. I wonder if Bradley could help.”
Amy shrugged but grabbed a phone and dialed. “I’ll call Jen, his wife and see if he can get a message to someone.”
In speaking with the wife, Jen, Tina rela
yed that it would be a great backup if Bradley could try to relay her whereabouts. “I’ll be there in about thirty-six hours. Can you tell your husband when he calls in to try to get this message over to the American Base?” She dictated.
“Lieutenant Milton, American military, Kandahar Air Base. “Milton: Coming to help Freud. Contact Pops. Or AMTEX Hotel. Ask for Greene.”
Bradley would call later that day. “We’ll do everything in our power to get the message to him,” Jen said.
Tina hated lying to everyone, but she couldn’t say that she was psychic now and knew that Jamey was stuck in a POW’s dream. That made her sound like a wacko. No one would let her out the door with that crazy story. She hoped the note would get to Milton, and if it did, that she wasn’t putting Jamey in line for a court martial by revealing she knew about Sixth Force. Then again, if Jamey got out of this alive, he’d probably take what the army doled out for giving up military secrets. At least he wouldn’t be dead. If she was wrong about her hunch, and Jamey was out of the dream and not in danger, she’d just screwed him and set up herself for interrogation with Sixth Force. She’d take that over what her instincts told her about Jamey being stuck inside a dream.
By using her last name in the note, Milton might take her more seriously than if she signed it Jamey’s girlfriend. She hoped so. More than that, she hoped Pops would hear from Jamey or Milton before she even got to Dubai. Pops was on high alert.
As they stood on the front porch waiting for the taxi, Tina’s mother voiced concerns about her flying into a war zone to see her comatose boyfriend. “What if he wakes up and you’ve flown in and put your life in danger?”
“You’d have done it for Daddy,” she said simply, and left it at that. “Amy, take care of Mom, and I’ll call along the way.” With a small backpack that held her passport, ID, a spare change of clothes and a toothbrush, she taxied to the SeaTac Airport and boarded the plane to Heathrow Airport in London.
The flight across the Atlantic was torturously long. Even watching movies didn’t dilute her worry for Jamey, and by the time she saw the inside of Heathrow and got to the gate for her flight to Dubai, she was a nervous wreck. While waiting for the call to board, she contacted Pops for the last time, but he still hadn’t heard anything. She then checked messages to see if either Jamey or her mother called. Nothing. A quick call home revealed that everything was fine on Mercer Island. Mr. Boo had a new faux-diamond collar. Tina actually smiled to hear their only big news.
Then it was time to board the flight to Dubai, a small country very far from both Seattle and Maui. The British Airways flight to the United Arab Emirates was just short of seven hours and Tina hoped to get some sleep onboard, knowing she needed to keep her wits sharp once she got to Dubai.
The plan, if it worked, was to catch the once a day flight to Kandahar if her visa papers could be processed in time for the 2 p.m. boarding call. Once there, she’d check into the only safe place near the Kandahar airport that catered to civilians. AMTEX VILLAGE, it was called. From what she’d seen on the internet, there were no hotels in Kandahar for international visitors; none that were considered safe. This place, AMTEX VILLAGE, was new, built for the many contractors and oil industry teams that came to Afghanistan from all over the world. It was her only possibility. If she couldn’t get in to AMTEX, she’d go straight to the base by taxi, demand to see Milton. Maybe that sort of thing would actually work.
On the flight to Dubai, wringing her hands, biting her nails, and fidgeting in her seat must’ve alerted the man sitting beside her that something was wrong.
“You okay?” He had an untraceable accent but resembled a Nordic businessman.
“I don’t like flying, but thanks for asking.” She tried to smile. Now he’d probably offer to hold her hand or give her tips on how to get her mind off things. Hoping to avoid that, she tried to sit quietly and read a thriller she’d bought at the airport. The man got the hint.
The airport in Dubai was all glass and chrome, and stunningly gorgeous. Tina made her way to the airline desk to purchase a ticket to Kandahar and was met with a firm no. No visa, no purchase. The same man who sat beside her on the flight was standing in line behind her and offered to help her get the visa. Together they walked to an office on the second floor where they could either apply for a quick visa or a temporary pass to enter the country without the visa.
Listing her reason for travel being tourism, she was given a stamped paper that said she was allowed to enter Afghanistan. She told the man she now knew as Sven, that her boyfriend was in a coma and she was going to see him on Kandahar Base. Coming out of her mouth, the story sounded believable. And it was almost true.
Downstairs once more, Sven thrust the paper in front of the airline personnel who’d asked for her visa and explained that the government had waived the visa. Apparently this was not uncommon. A plane ticket was purchased for the 2 p.m. flight to Kandahar in Tina’s name. Sven also recommended she follow him to AMTEX VILLAGE when they deplaned. He was staying there on business, third time that year, and was happy to help her check in. Normally, she wouldn’t trust a stranger like this but there was nothing normal about this trip and she was desperate.
Sven seemed like a nice man, with no ulterior motives, and Tina was happy to accept his help. Sven then took her over to the window where a group of men waited. He introduced her. Everyone was headed to Kandahar on business, and Tina was surprised when one of them said, “War is good for business.” Most of the men seriously questioned the safety of her going to Afghanistan. An engineer from America was especially sympathetic to her situation and couldn’t believe the military hadn’t flown her in directly to the base. “We’re only engaged, not married,” Tina said, hoping that would suffice.
As they walked to the boarding gate, there was a separate lineup for those who hadn’t obtained the visa, and she joined those people, waving to her engineer friends. She wasn’t entirely sure what the plan was once she checked in to the hotel. She hadn’t thought that far ahead. All she could think about was that when her feet hit Afghani soil, her search for Jamey would begin.
Chapter 27
From the air, Afghanistan looked stark with only the occasional green patch where farmers irrigated their land among the vast desert landscape. A dramatic mountainous range formed the southeastern border into Pakistan--the most dangerous area for American soldiers because of the Taliban and al Qaeda training camps beyond the range.
The military base in Kandahar was partly visible from the air like a desert outpost with an abnormally huge airfield. As they descended, Sven moved into the empty seat beside her and pointed out landmarks. The plane was not allowed to fly over the base. Sven pointed to some towers and said they scrambled signals so satellites couldn’t get a clear picture and Tina nodded.
Even from this distance, she was comforted in knowing that Jamey was down there somewhere. The country was beautiful in its starkness, lack of skyscrapers, its unending miles of nothing beyond the city. Surprisingly the Kandahar airport looked modern, with all windows on one side. She’d been expecting a bombed-out cement structure with a cracked tarmac, but the airport was large and well-maintained like in the United States.
Shuffling through the arrival area, Tina realized she was utterly exhausted. That could work to her advantage if she needed to dream jump. AMTEX had sent a shuttle with an armed guard for everyone bound for the hotel, which was almost everyone who didn’t look Afghani on the small flight. Tina followed the men onto the rickety shuttle and stood listening to them talk about building permits all the way to the hotel.
AMTEX VILLAGE looked like a two-story apartment building that you might see in a low rent section of East Los Angeles. Made of cement blocks, the buildings were painted stark white with no ornamentation. The grounds of the small hotel were about five acres of lush grass and gardens. A wall was being built around the perimeter, and at this time in the afternoon, a group of men worked on an area that would eventually be a gate.
“Is that necessary?” she asked one of the men who noticed her looking.
“Probably,” he answered, his gaze pinning her to her seat. “The insurgents are out there.” He wouldn’t look away.
“My fiancé could be dying. I had to come,” she said, in answer to his disapproving look.
“Crazy.” He shook his head and closed his eyes.
Once off the shuttle, everyone had to walk through a metal detector to get to the lobby. This did seem crazy. Checking in at the hotel front desk, Tina was given a message on a folded piece of paper. Her heart leapt and her pulse quickened at the sight of the white paper. It was taped shut. Had anyone who worked at AMTEX read it? She tucked the note in the pocket of her hooded sweatshirt, now tied around her waist. Nervous, she paid American cash for three nights and declined a tour of the facilities, which apparently included a pool and a general store. “Very secure,” the man at the desk said, smiling her way.
Tina declined an offer to meet for dinner at eight o’clock in the restaurant from the businessmen. “Thank you but I can’t.”
“You have to eat.” Sven stopped walking and waited for a reply. He looked genuinely concerned for her well-being, and Tina was sorry that he’d taken her on.
“I’m planning on heading to the base soon, but thanks for all your help today.” She’d never been a good liar and figured she wasn’t doing a very good job of spinning a tale now. But, the men headed off to their rooms eventually, telling her if she changed her mind, she knew where they’d be.
Her building was the farthest from the front desk and she worried about being far from the metal detector. The property had a barbed-wire fence in areas where the mud wall hadn’t been constructed yet, but it didn’t look like it would keep anything out except someone who didn’t have wire cutters. She was scared, more so than she’d ever been in her life. Here she was, in a war zone, unprotected by the army, sequestered in a stark but clean hotel, with crazy killers only miles away. Her heart beat quickly. Now that the men from her flight had headed off to their apartments, she felt strangely exposed, like a dream where you’re naked in public.