On Edge

by Albert Ashforth

  I stopped by Captain Corley’s room at a few minutes after 1900.

  After pointing me to the chair, she said, “I’m taking some leave time, but I’m not sure when I can fly. I think we should fly down together.”

  What she was saying was, she didn’t trust me to handle it alone.

  “Hamed sent an e-mail, ma’am, and said he’ll be available all week.” I paused. “I’m going to fly down to Dubai in two or three days. There’s a direct flight from Kabul.”

  “I’d appreciate it if you’d wait for me. This is the kind of thing I’d like to—”

  “I can handle it alone.”

  “You think you can!”

  She pushed a stray lock of brunette hair away from her left eye. “Why are you looking at me like that?”

  “I’m not looking at you. I’m thinking.”

  “If you’re thinking what I think you’re thinking, it’s time for you to leave.”

  I got to my feet and slipped on my jacket. “Gladly, ma’am.”

  “What’s that supposed to mean?”

  “It means that I’m tired, and I’ll be glad to return to my room, ma’am—and go to bed.”

  Needless to say, she slammed the door. And needless to say, I was not happy having to report to Captain Corley.

  CHAPTER 20

  FRIDAY, FEBRUARY 15, 2013

  THE FOLLOWING MORNING I caught a chopper back to Kabul and landed at Camp Phoenix shortly before noon. Stan Jones was talking to a group of officers from Headquarters when I arrived. Twenty minutes later, with his visitors gone, Stan waved me into his office.

  When I asked about his visitors, Stan rolled his eyes. “A couple of senators have scheduled a visit, but that won’t be until the spring. We have to make sure everything’s secure, just in case. I doubt they’ll make it to Kabul. They’ll probably spend most of their time at Bagram.”

  Seated on a metal chair with my left elbow resting on his desk and seeing Stan up close, I couldn’t help noticing how frazzled he seemed, different from the way he looked when I arrived two weeks before.

  “What did you do down there, Alex?”

  “Talked to some people. Dodged some rockets.” Stan knew that I was keeping the details regarding what Pete was doing to myself, and it was obvious that my vague answers were making him unhappy. Just my presence seemed to make people nervous. “Not a great deal. Anything new up here?”

  “Doug Greer has gone back to D.C., left yesterday early,” Stan said. “He said to say good-bye when you got in.” As an afterthought, he said, “I hope you’re not unhappy about the Nolda business.”

  “Who said I was unhappy?”

  “You’re not good at concealing your feelings, Alex. It was written all over your face.”

  “I just don’t think it was Nolda, that’s all.”

  “Well, I signed off on the official verdict: Sergeant Baram Nolda of the ANA killed Colonel Peter Hansen. It was a green-on-blue. End of story.” Stan shrugged, gazed down at some paper on his desk. “If anything comes up that causes us to change our minds, we’ll definitely look at it.”

  “Baloney, Stan.”

  Stan’s eyes flashed. “You’re out of line, Alex, way out of line.” He grabbed his cup, took a sip of cold coffee, put down the cup with a bang. “I’m tired of your attitude.”

  “You’ve already got plenty of reason not to believe Nolda killed Pete. Save the bureaucratic stuff for the rubber-stamp guys at Headquarters—or for the suits in D.C. I know better.”

  “We’re gonna be out of this country in less than two years! We’ve got more important things to think about.”

  “Like what?”

  Stan banged his hand down on the desk. “You’ve been going way over the line with your smart-alecky talk, Alex. People here wonder how you think you can get away with stuff like this. Doug wonders, too. I remember back in Bosnia, the colonel calling you ‘a loose cannon to end all loose cannons.’”

  Stan was right, of course, that I had my way of doing things. Strangely, I had a feeling that was the reason Jerry wanted me over here. He knew this wasn’t a cushy assignment, and definitely not a job for a career-oriented, by-the-book type. But what I saw as independence and self-reliance could, within a military environment, be regarded as insubordination.

  “Bud Withers thinks we’ve cut you way too much slack.” I already knew what Bud Withers thought of me and what Stan was about to say. “What really happened out there in the Pech Valley? There are four days totally unaccounted for. Okay, some Talibs grabbed you. And like you say, they chained you up. And I could see you and the terp got banged around. But what happened then? How long were you there? How come they let you go? Bud lost a man there, and he says—”

  “He says it was because of me, but he’s wrong. It was an ambush. They knew we were coming.”

  “How would they?”

  “Ask Withers. He’s in charge of the COP.”

  “Withers has been out there for nearly three months. You’re suggesting he’s been out there too long?”

  “I’m not suggesting anything. Maybe he needed to let off steam, get it out of his system. As far as I’m concerned, no harm done.”

  “Maybe the military may not see it that way. The legal adviser at HQ called the States. He’s still looking at the report. You may have your orders rescinded. You’ll lose access to ISAF.”

  “Because I threw a few punches? What the hell happened to the Army I knew?”

  “You’re not a buck private anymore.” Stan grimaced. “Not just that. One thing that went in the report was the missing money. Five thousand dollars. You were the last person to have it in your possession.”

  “Did you have to put that in a report about two guys punching each other? What were you thinking?”

  Stan gazed straight at me, his expression revealing nothing.

  I resisted the urge to say he wasn’t a buck private anymore, either. Instead, I told him I’d catch up with him later.

  When I went back to my hooch, I put in a call to Wanda and left a message. She called a half hour later.

  I said, “Where are you?”

  “In my room in Kabul’s best hotel, the Serena. I told you I was moving out of that place with all the contractors.”

  “How is it?”

  “I should have moved over here sooner. There are real people around, not all those military types. I love it.”

  “Like some company?”

  “Three thirty, Alex, for tea in the lounge.” She hung up before I could say another word.

  * * *

  “Well, at least I saw Pete’s killer,” Wanda said. “Since he was already dead, I could have saved myself the trouble of coming over.”

  “You had to come.”

  “I suppose.”

  “Look at the bright side.”

  “What bright side?”

  “You’ve gotten to know Afghanistan, at least a little bit.” I caught the attention of our waiter and told him to bring us another pot of tea.

  “I’ve learned to drink tea.” Wanda gazed at me across the table. Her expression was grim. “One nice thing, Alex. Even under these circumstances, we’ve been able to renew our friendship. I mean, who would have ever thought we’d run into each other here?”

  It was true. Despite everything that was going on around us and the fact that we hadn’t seen one another in fifteen years, we were still comfortable in each other’s company.

  Wanda was silent for a moment. “Let’s be serious for a second. Seeing you again, Alex . . . even under these circumstances . . . has meant a great deal to me. I’m not sure I would have gotten through these two weeks without you here. Like I said, and I meant it, I’ve always had a soft spot in my heart for you.” She paused. “Maybe you have one for me?”

  Before I could answer, the waiter arrived with the stainless silver pot of tea, and we watched as he deftly carried out the pouring ritual. After filling our cups, he left, and I offered a toast. “How do you say ‘cheers’ in Pa
shto?” When Wanda smiled, I said, “Cheer up, Wanda.”

  “I think I’ll put in for leave, maybe go somewhere. Pete and I bought a country place in Loudon County, in Virginia. It’s beautiful. Out in the woods.”

  “Maybe it’s better to just keep working.”

  As she forked up the last piece of gooey cake, Wanda said, “What are your plans?”

  “I don’t call the shots. I may have to go back to D.C.”

  “So you’re not going to Germany to get married, then? At least not right away?”

  “My life isn’t my own. I go where I’m told to go.”

  “It would be great if we could see one another in the States. Will you call me?” Wanda passed over a card. “Promise.”

  The Serena was Kabul’s only five-star hotel and the atmosphere was relaxed and pleasant. Although there was a high wall surrounding the expansive grounds and guards checked people passing through the front gate, here in the hotel it couldn’t have been quieter. But just beyond the outskirts of the city, we knew battles were being fought and people were dying.

  To me, it seemed everyone in the Serena was doing their best to ignore reality.

  “You know, I was really concerned when you went off on that . . . that wild goose chase.” Wanda paused to take a sip of tea. “I still can’t see why you said yes. I mean, it was obvious from the beginning that something there wasn’t right.”

  “You knew?”

  “I sensed something. That’s all. From what Todd Hammond said, you were lucky to come back alive.”

  Wanda had argued against my going, and I didn’t need to be reminded what a close call Haji and I had.

  “What happened down in Khost? You didn’t go down there to see that Captain Corley person?”

  Did Wanda suspect that Leslie Corley had been having an affair with her husband? Women have a sixth sense in some things. But was it true? Or was there another reason she disliked Corley?

  “Yes, among other things.”

  “What other things?” She took a sip of tea, then said, “People don’t like Captain Corley. They can’t figure her out. What’s she like to work with?”

  “She’s a hard-charger, as the saying goes. Everything by the book. A stickler for detail.”

  “What’s her take on Pete’s killer?”

  “She’s like me. She doesn’t think it was Nolda. Pete kept her up to speed on what he was working on.”

  “Which was?”

  “You were Pete’s wife, Wanda. Are you saying you had no idea what Pete was working on?”

  “Financial stuff. I know that much. Oversight? He said that on a couple of occasions.”

  “What did he say about the Kabul Bank?” When Wanda only shrugged, I said, “Try and remember.”

  She closed her eyes and put a hand to her forehead. After a few seconds, she said, “We spoke on the phone, but you know how that is. You always have the feeling someone’s listening in.” When I nodded, Wanda said, “Pete wasn’t keen on e-mail. He knew how many people can access an account, especially from a military address. So the answer to your question is, I didn’t know very much at all about what he was working on. Why do you ask?”

  I didn’t immediately respond, took a sip of my tea, and waited.

  “Are you suggesting there might be a connection between what Pete was working on and his murder?” Reaching for the silver pot, Wanda said, “That doesn’t really make sense. I mean, this Nolda individual . . . What would he know about the Kabul Bank? He was from out in the boondocks somewhere.”

  “You’re assuming it was Nolda who killed Pete.”

  “You think it might have been someone else?”

  I could have said I didn’t think it was someone else, I knew it was someone else.

  While I stayed silent, Wanda said, “Okay, you think you know better than everyone else, even the people whose job it is to investigate these killings. At times, Alex, you come across as downright arrogant.”

  I decided to ignore Wanda’s irritation. “Did you intend to stay married to Pete, Wanda?”

  “I find that question impertinent.”

  “You shouldn’t mind answering it.”

  “I don’t mind answering it. But I feel like you’re giving me the third degree.”

  Even if Wanda had reasons not to answer the question, I thought she was being overly touchy. Finally, I said, “I apologize.”

  When Wanda lifted her teacup, I lifted mine. She smiled. “You’re forgiven.”

  After the waiter had removed the plates, I said, “The tea was nice, but to be honest, I could go for something stronger.”

  I was about to suggest we go to dinner when Wanda said, “I have a better idea.” She pushed back her chair. “Follow me.” Before I could say “Where to?” she said, “I have brandy in my room. My one criticism of the Serena is they don’t serve alcohol.”

  “I think it’s better if we go somewhere for dinner.” Recalling my earlier visit to Wanda’s room at the Green Village, I said, “I’m not sure . . .”

  “I promise I’ll be on my best behavior.”

  We walked from the lounge into the lobby, then across to the elevator. On the third floor, she removed a plastic card from her purse and opened a door.

  “What do you think of my place? The best hotel in Kabul. I just couldn’t stand living in the Green Village any longer.”

  We walked into a nicely appointed suite, beyond which was a door leading into a bedroom. “How long have you been here?”

  “Since Tuesday. I feel more relaxed here. Being so close to where Pete died—not knowing who killed him—the frustration was getting to me.” Wanda pointed to an easy chair in front of the room’s big window. “Make yourself comfortable, Alex.” She opened the door of a sideboard, situated along the wall, and held up a bottle of Courvoisier. “As I recall, you used to like brandy. I’m assuming you still do.”

  “Yes, but I’m curious. Where did you get it?”

  Wanda laughed. “You won’t believe what this cost me. I marched into one of the restaurants downtown and asked the manager what kind of brandy they had. After a lot of hemming and hawing, he agreed to sell me an unopened bottle.”

  I watched as Wanda poured out two glasses of brandy. I knew what she meant about frustration. I felt the same way. After replacing the bottle, Wanda sat down on the edge of the sofa, facing me. She raised her glass. “I have to ask again, Alex. Do you think we’ll find Pete’s killer? What’s your gut feeling?”

  “There’s a lot of confusion.”

  “What do you mean? What kind of confusion?”

  “In the investigation. Stan’s one of the best, but he’s having trouble getting a handle on things. He still thinks the killer is Nolda, the guy who worked with Pete in the office. At least that’s what he says.”

  “But it seems logical. You can’t figure these people.” When I shrugged, Wanda said, “You think it’s someone else? You think it wasn’t Nolda?”

  “I saw Sergeant Nolda’s body. Except for you and Todd Hammond, no one else did. He’d been dead for a while.”

  “I was there, but I just couldn’t look . . . at that person, knowing what he’d done.” Wanda removed a tissue from the pocket of her dress, touched it to her eyes. She then reached for the brandy.

  “Go easy on the brandy, Wanda.”

  “Are you sure you don’t want another?” When I shook my head, she said, “I’m wondering if I shouldn’t retire.” She took a long swallow from her glass.

  “Give it some time. Don’t make any hasty decisions.”

  “You’re right, Alex. That’s good advice.” She reached for the bottle and poured herself a half-glass. “Anyway, what’s this trip to Dubai all about? You’re leaving tomorrow?”

  “Bright and early. Who told you?”

  “Stan mentioned it.”

  “I’m following up on one of Pete’s leads.” I checked my watch and eased myself out of my seat. “Early day tomorrow.”

  “It’s not even six o’clo
ck.” Standing up, Wanda crossed the room and put her arms around me. “When am I going to see you again? When do you get back from Dubai?”

  “I’ll be there for two days.”

  “I’ll see you then before I fly home.” Wanda planted a kiss on my lips. “You’re being pushed and pulled in all kinds of directions, Alex. Your fiancée wants you to go back to Germany, and people want you in Dubai.”

  “Don’t forget Kabul.”

  She kissed me again. “And I want you here in Kabul.” She pushed herself against me. “I want you very bad.”

  As Wanda again tried to kiss me, I made an effort to reach across her body and grab the door handle. I didn’t succeed.

  Wanda smiled. “As you can see, I still haven’t given up hope.” We kissed again. Wanda’s lips were soft and inviting—but inviting me where? And then with a sudden push, she tumbled me down on the sofa.

  “Conversations like this are more interesting. Don’t you agree?”

  “You mean when the two people are horizontal?”

  Wanda smiled, took my hand, and brought my fingers to her lips. For some reason, I felt like a bolt of electricity had shot through me. The chemistry was still there.

  “These conversations are not appropriate for a guy who’s engaged to another woman.”

  “We could fix that.”

  “We could, but we won’t.”

  I finally untangled myself from Wanda’s embrace and stood up. This time I made it across the room without her stopping me.

  Before I could close the door, she waved and blew me a kiss.

  CHAPTER 21

  SATURDAY, FEBRUARY 16, 2013

  THE NEXT MORNING with my gear in my carry-on, I drove from Camp Eggers to Camp Phoenix and stopped by Stan’s office to say good-bye. “When do you expect to be back, Alex?”

  “I figure I’ll be there two days.”

  “I won’t ask what you’re working on. I’m just hoping it’s not something that’s going to get all of us into hot water.”