by J A Heaton
Daniel nodded slightly with understanding before Rex added, “And where the hell did you learn to handle a gun like that? Not bad, though you missed a lot.”
“Doc was in the military, and it seems his father taught him a few things,” General Jones said.
Rex gave a raised eyebrow and was about to say something when their secure communications computer chimed. The three of them gathered around the monitor for a call from D.C.
“Oh. My. God,” Jenny said slowly over the video feed. “You look like total hell.”
“Thanks,” Daniel said with a slight grin. It was good to see a friend. “This is Rex and General Jones.”
“Don’t worry, I won’t tell any women what you look like on the job,” Jenny said. “Not that I could tell them anyways since you’re all James Bond and stuff.”
“What?” Daniel asked wearily. “What time is it there?”
“Some ungodly hour of the morning,” Jenny said. “We’re like on a ten-hour difference. But I was working on the interview with that guy you sent me. Well, my sweet new computer was working on it. Can you believe Officer Carter won’t let me take it home with me?”
“I can believe it,” Daniel said. “It’s full of classified stuff, you know?”
“Right,” Jenny said. “Anyways, here’s what my computer and I discovered for you after analyzing the interview of the man you spoke with yesterday.”
Although it wasn’t as good as seeing Jenny in person, Daniel was glad to see a familiar face. It felt odd. His American world was mixing with his new Central Asian world, which was, in turn, different from his previous Central Asian experience. The blocky video kept up the veil of separation, but it was enough to lift Daniel’s spirits. Daniel turned up the speakers to make sure he didn’t miss anything Jenny reported.
“The man’s Uzbek language doesn’t match any of your field research areas perfectly. But my computer is about ninety percent certain he is from a geographic area with strong similarities to the village you lived in. But he’s definitely not from your village.”
“That fits with my hunch,” Daniel said. “It’s not as though I exhaustively canvassed every village, but I was hoping to get lucky. Maybe if I could have nailed down with strong certainty where he was from, we could have found his family and leaned on them.”
“Start looking in all the villages you didn’t do research in,” Jenny suggested.
“That’s a ton of villages,” Daniel said. “But thanks for your help. It at least confirms our suspicions that we need to look into the mountains south of here.”
“Oh, and thank you for scoring me this job,” Jenny said. “Like I said, this computer I get to use at the office is sweet, and I have tons of linguistic stuff to crank through the algorithms and tweak them. It’s like even better than back when we were with the startup, and you were feeding me the data. And now I’m helping chase down terrorists and nuclear weapons.”
“You’re babbling,” Daniel kindly reminded Jenny with a brotherly smile.
“Sorry,” she said.
“Good work,” General Jones told Jenny, “but these boys need to go. They have a meetup with a source soon.”
General Jones ended the communication and Daniel said, “The translator was one of the defectors who helped in the prison break last night.”
Rex put on a slight grin. “If nothing else, I’ll need you to translate. Please don’t pull your gun on this one.”
“And put last night behind you,” Jones said.
“Where to?” the driver asked Rex.
“Bazaar.”
The rumbling Humvee carried them through the base gate and past the barricades and sandbags.
“When I say so,” Rex said, “we’ll need to hop out of this vehicle while it’s still moving. Then, we’ll maneuver through the city until we get to our spot to observe the meetup. If anybody is watching our movements, we could tip off the meeting spot.”
“You think this source can tell us anything about our guy?” Daniel asked hopefully.
“Probably not,” Rex said. “Most sources just want dollars. Or a green card. But you never know. If the source comes in, I’ll need you to translate. But first, I like to watch their approach from a distance so I can be sure things are safe.”
They soon reached the checkpoint at the edge of the city, and the guards waved to them as they passed through the maze of barriers and into the city. The driver took them towards the city center, winding through turns on roads too narrow for his hulking vehicle.
The Humvee churned around a turn, and Rex said, “On the count of three, open your door and hop out. We’re going down the alley on your side. Once we’re out, we’ll make our way to the bazaar meeting spot.”
Daniel nodded.
“Three, two, one… Go!”
Daniel did as instructed and found himself in a narrow, mud-packed alley between mud structures accented with brick and mis-measured wood.
“Follow me,” Rex said, leading Daniel through a maze towards the bazaar.
Daniel tried to keep track of where they were, but the frequent changes in direction soon confused him. Instead, he noticed how barren the city seemed. Though hundreds of thousands of people had once lived here, only a fraction of that did now. And Daniel guessed most didn’t want to see what could be happening in the alleyways. It’s better to be ignorant in case the wrong people come asking.
Moments later, they entered the back of what Daniel felt was a small hotel with guest rooms. Rex nodded to the old man sitting near the front door, handed him something as he shook his hand, and then he led Daniel up a rickety wooden staircase.
“We’ve got a room to ourselves,” Rex explained as he opened a door into a guest room.
Daniel shut and locked the door behind him and looked about. Daniel had seen beds like this before. Two small beds with visible lumps took up most of the room. They probably had bedbugs. A ratty blanket hung awkwardly to serve as a curtain. A barrel of water sat next to the sink near the bed. No chairs. No other furniture save a simple stool.
Rex stood by the window, looking out.
Daniel did the same and beheld the post-Taliban version of the bazaar. Daniel recalled he had been there once, before the Taliban had taken over.
Now, the bazaar was smaller and fewer people slowly milled through it. At that time of winter, there were no seasonal fruits or vegetables. Daniel mostly saw root vegetables for sale. Most of what else was for sale was relief food airlifted in by the United States from K2.
But despite the dangers, enough people desired to live normal lives that people were milling about and negotiating for the odd item here and there. Some people offered their wares for sale, anything they could take from anywhere, including kitchen sinks and faucets, broken down into pieces. A few cars were parked about the intersection, appearing as if they were from the 1960s, with bald tires and dust caked on to the exterior. And a few other men stood by their cars, offering taxi service. Daniel wondered what it would cost to get to his village.
“From here,” Rex said, “we’ll get a good look at our source. The source will walk over to that butcher shop.” Rex pointed to a shop with a meat hook, but no meat hanging from it. “Our source will give a signal as to whether or not the meeting is on. If it’s clear, we’ll meet in the back of the shop. After the meeting, the source will leave with some meat from the butcher shop. We even have video cameras to keep an eye on the meetup spot from here.”
“When will he come?” Daniel asked.
“Any time in the next two hours,” Rex said. “We can’t be too precise, or it would form too obvious of a pattern. Besides, nobody is punctual here, anyway.”
“Ain’t that the truth?” Daniel said, remembering how many times during his first year in Central Asia that everybody’s lack of punctuality got under his skin.
Rex pulled a stool near the window and gazed out of it, watching the bazaar.
Daniel sat on the bed, afraid he would get fleas from it.
“What was in the bag from Jones?” Daniel asked.
“Now that we’ve got the time, I’ll let you know that it was a goody bag from Santa. A Glock for you, and a few other things.”
The Glock was the one thing Daniel and his father agreed upon. Daniel had grown comfortable with the firearm after his dad fell in love with it when it first came out when Daniel was ten.
“Why didn’t you give me the Glock last night?” Daniel asked. “I probably would have hit the bad guys.”
“I thought the Glock was too good for you,” Rex said. “Jones also gave us more communications equipment, listening devices, and some fun night vision tech in that bag. He also included something else I didn’t think existed.”
“What’s that?” Daniel asked.
“They’ve only been rumored, and we kept hearing they weren’t field ready yet, but I guess they are because we have one.”
“What?” Daniel persisted.
“Roach Bait,” Rex said. “It’s a beacon that we can place anywhere. Start the timer, and our airpower will detect the signal. As soon as the timer is done, our airpower will destroy the location of the Roach Bait. Could be a Bone dropping a house on them, or a C-130 gunship nailing it with a howitzer and pumping thousands of rounds from its Gatling gun into it, or it could be a hellfire from an Apache helicopter. Whoever is closest.”
“It’s like a cockroach eating the poisonous bait and then unknowingly taking it back to his nest and killing all the other cockroaches,” Daniel realized.
“Of course,” Rex said, “you could just use it as a tracking device, but I want dead cockroaches. I don’t just want to know where they are.”
Daniel considered the possibility that the Roach Bait device could kill a lot of innocent people, and Rex must have seen it on his face.
“I know what you’re thinking,” Rex said, “and let me tell you a story to let you know how stuff works over here.”
Daniel waited for Rex to begin his story as he peered out the window onto the bazaar, waiting for the source.
“I wasn’t part of the first wave into Afghanistan,” Rex said. “I was part of the cleanup after this city was already taken. Kabul fell only about six days after we took Mazar-i-Sharif back from the Taliban, but somebody had to stay behind for cleanup duty. That was my job.
“Lots of patrolling and handing out humanitarian supplies since winter was coming. Certainly, the average person on the street welcomed us and was glad to be done with the Taliban in the city. They knew the Taliban was the worst. But that didn’t change the fact that anybody we met on the streets, anybody we gave food and blankets to, could have a concealed weapon to use against us.
“Damned stressful. And there were incidents here and there, but mostly our guys disarming some guys with guns. Some bombs, but the stress of going out day after day, knowing anybody you were trying to help could be secretly working to kill you. And it could happen so fast, you would never know what hit you. And if you did wake up from it, you’d be without some body parts. Insane.”
Daniel didn’t interrupt Rex as he spoke, still watching the bazaar below him.
“There was a young woman without one of her legs. I bet she lost it on a Soviet mine. But she was still young; it must have taken her leg off long after the Soviets pulled out of here. Can you imagine, the war is already over, but then your kid loses a leg because of that war? Damned insane.
“Well, I gave her a stick of gum. Building bridges and all that, and then we gave her portions of rice. She had difficulty carrying it while maneuvering on her single crude crutch. Some boys tried to steal it away from her. My buddy and I went after them, scared the boys away. The young woman left with her rations.
“It continued that way for a few days. She would come and get her rations, and people soon learned not to mess with her.
“One day, when we were expecting her, she didn’t show up. Until right at the end. I was starting to get worried. She sure needed the food. There was no way for me to talk with her. Didn’t others need the food? Why would they send the one-legged woman? Couldn’t somebody else come and get the food? Anyways, I was relieved when she came up to my men and me after everybody had dispersed. They thought we were out of rations, but my buddy and I had held one back for the woman.
“I went to get a stick of gum for her while my buddy reached to get the rations we had set aside for her. And then it all happened so fast.
“My buddy yelled out, ‘Grenade!’ and threw himself onto the ground. The woman fell on him, trying to get him off the grenade. The grenade went off, taking out my buddy and the woman. The rest of us were okay. Physically.”
“My God,” Daniel said quietly to himself.
“Somehow,” Rex continued, “I’m not angry at her. Understandably, she hated the Soviets. And really, how could she understand how we were different from the Soviets? Or, even if she did, maybe the Taliban offered her family food if she used the grenade against us. Or maybe she sincerely believed she was doing the right thing and thought it would get her into heaven. Would I have done differently if I were in her situation and with her experiences? I don’t know. What I do know is that killing Taliban will make sure there are fewer people like that so that guys like my buddy don’t have to do what he did.”
Daniel couldn’t say anything as he listened to Rex recount the events.
“What I’m saying,” Rex continued, “is that even the young women here can be the enemy. And if you’re not sure about that, then more good Americans will die here.”
Daniel and Rex sat in silence, watching the bazaar below them. None of the cars had moved. Nobody needed a taxi. Daniel wondered if anything had even been sold.
“Imagine what could happen if they get a nuke,” Daniel said.
Rex nodded slightly.
Moments later, Rex said, “There’s our source.”
“She’s the one carrying the small handbag,” Rex said.
“It’s a woman?” Daniel asked with surprise.
“I forgot to mention that?” Rex said sarcastically.
“She looks scared,” Daniel observed. “Fidgety.”
“Anybody would know that,” Rex said. “Take a look at her. What can you tell me about her? You think she knows about Uzbek villages where our bomb or terrorist might be hiding?”
Daniel handed Rex the pair of binoculars to look through.
“She looks like any other heavyset woman in a burqa,” Daniel said. He guessed she was about forty years old, but it was impossible to know. “Wearing a big black bag and a complete covering doesn’t leave too many distinguishing marks.”
“Well, hopefully, she’ll recognize the man in our photo,” Rex said.
The woman stopped in front of the butcher shop. She exchanged some animated words with the shopkeeper before taking a few small items and placing them in her handbag.
“Shoot,” Rex said. “She’s arguing about the price and refusing to buy meat. That means she’s calling off the meeting.”
“Why would she do that?” Daniel asked. He didn’t see anything suspicious in the bazaar.
“Maybe she feels like somebody is following her. Or, maybe there’s nothing to report,” Rex said.
“But we need to show her the picture,” Daniel pressed. “We’ve got to meet with her.”
“We’ll have to wait until the next meeting,” Rex said.
“I’ll go get her,” Daniel said, moving towards the door.
“Don’t!” Rex called after him. “She’s already gone. You would most likely blow her cover and get her killed.”
Daniel stopped, knowing Rex was right.
Nothing is going well on this mission, Daniel thought to himself.
“She’s no dummy,” Rex said. “She does pretty well to make us think her intel is precious. And she also knows if she meets with us too often, somebody will catch on, and then that money won’t do her any good.”
Rex led Daniel back to a rendezvous point to catch their ride to the base with a p
atrol.
As they rode back, General Jones gave them the next step over the radio.
“I’ve arranged for you two to accompany a patrol south of the city,” Jones said. “You leave as soon as you return to base. Daniel will need to use his local charm to see if anybody knows where Qaqramon is.”
10
Less than an hour later, Daniel and Rex were accompanying a patrol to a population center south of Mazar-i-Sharif. The hard, mud-packed roads were no problem for their Humvees, but Daniel always wondered how common passenger cars ever made their way.
“This is a Dari village,” the driver yelled back to Rex and Daniel. “They’ve mostly given us the cold shoulder since we’ve been in town, but it’s been pretty quiet recently.”
“How quiet?” Rex asked.
“Haven’t been fired upon there in over a week,” the driver said.
Daniel figured that was considered quiet.
“What’s the village’s name?” Daniel asked as he held on to the two round loaves of bread he would offer as a gift. He also carried a pack of cigarettes from the base in case the village chief smoked.
“Craphole Three,” Rex said. “At least, that’s what we call it.”
“Who do we know there?” Daniel asked.
“We’ll take you to the leader of the village,” the driver said. “You can work your magic on him, and we’ll keep an eye out like we normally do. Hopefully, there won’t be any trouble. But it has been more than a week, so we’re overdue.”
Daniel peered out the window to look at the mud-brick huts with improvised roofs that passed by as they entered the village. The roads weren’t designed for motorized traffic, and certainly not for vehicles this size. That meant they could only drive down the central road. Anywhere else required going on foot.
“Village Chief’s home of Craphole Three,” the driver announced as the Humvee came to a stop. The other vehicle did the same nearby. At least there was enough room here for them to turn around.