The Greatest Game

by J A Heaton

Daniel passed the third alley. The voices grew louder.

  Daniel pressed himself against the building and held his breath. The men were undoubtedly in the fourth alley, the one he had to go down.

  Two of the men shouted at each other in the alley. They would be on the street soon.

  Daniel checked the time. He was getting later by the second. But he couldn’t know until it was too late if the men were Taliban-friendly troublemakers or men who happened to carry guns and be in the wrong place.

  Would it be wise to hide in the third alley and wait for them to pass? Daniel wondered to himself.

  Daniel took one last deep breath and moved forward instead. One of the men backed out of the alley as he discussed something heatedly with the others.

  Inspired by the man with cerebral palsy in the village, Daniel looked down at the ground, pulled up his left arm to his chest, pointed his feet inward, and made the best impression he could of a man with cerebral palsy. He dragged his right foot behind him as he approached the men, acting as if he was heading towards the mosque. He hoped they would leave him alone.

  The first man called out to Daniel, but he couldn’t understand. Daniel immediately recognized two things when he glanced at them: the men were drunk, and they didn’t know how to properly handle the guns they possessed.

  This is a dangerous combination, Daniel thought to himself.

  Daniel turned to go down the alley, hoping the men would lose interest. But the men were looking for a target.

  Another man spoke to Daniel with a raised voice. Again, Daniel couldn’t understand. He pretended not to hear. Daniel continued down the alley slowly.

  One of the other men yelled at Daniel and came up behind him. He placed his hand on Daniel’s shoulder and spun him around.

  As Daniel spun, he rose to his full height and swung upwards with his fist. The man was caught completely off-guard, and the blow knocked him to the ground.

  The other two men stood with their eyes wide open and struggled to ready their weapons.

  Daniel reached for his own pistol, but his unfamiliar and baggy clothing got in the way. He fumbled his Glock, and it fell to the ground.

  One man nearly brought his AK to bear on Daniel, but Daniel rushed at him and forced the barrel of the gun to the side. He pushed the man out of the alley, pressing against him so there was no room for the gun.

  The man pulled the trigger anyway. The shots went harmlessly to the side. Daniel drove an elbow into the man’s face and grabbed the AK rifle.

  Daniel spun off the man, trying to locate the final adversary. Instead, he saw a woman in a dark burqa down the alley walking away. She carried a small handbag at her side. Instinctively, he wanted to call out to her, but the final man’s strike with the butt of his rifle knocked Daniel to the ground.

  Daniel rolled on the ground to avoid the next blow.

  Thank God he’s drunk, Daniel thought to himself. It gave Daniel the physical edge he needed.

  The man thrust his rifle into the ground one more time, and Daniel not only dodged it but also swung his leg around and sent the man crumbling to the ground.

  Daniel spotted his Glock lying in the alley, several feet from the first man he had leveled.

  He lunged for his gun, and as he went towards it, he saw the woman going away in the alley as fast as possible without running.

  She’s going to be gone soon, Daniel thought to himself.

  Daniel grabbed his Glock, solidly this time, rose to his knee and aimed it at the man. He intended to put two shots in the man’s chest.

  But the man stumbled over his friend who was moaning on the ground and didn’t try to use his gun. Daniel guessed the attacker must not have had ammunition and recognized he was outmatched.

  Daniel hesitated, and the man hurried away down the street.

  The other two men would also live, but they would have headaches when they came around.

  Daniel turned down the alley and saw the silhouette of the woman at the far end. He tucked his gun away and hurried towards her, faltering from the fight he’d just endured.

  She looked back. She moved to go down the street.

  If Daniel lost her now, he couldn’t risk chasing her down in the city. It would completely blow her cover. But if he did nothing, then he had no hope of finding Qaqramon and the nuke.

  Daniel took a risk and yelled, “Come back!”

  He realized he yelled it instinctively in Uzbek first. He repeated himself, but in Dari the second time.

  The woman paused.

  Daniel went towards the door the woman had exited shortly beforehand and prayed she would trust him.

  As he approached the door, the woman took one slow step back into the alley towards Daniel. Then she took several more.

  Daniel entered the door and waited in the back storeroom of the cafe for the source, the only lead he had on Qaqramon.

  12

  Daniel stood by a crude, wooden table with rickety chairs around it. A single light bulb dangled from the ceiling, but there was no electricity. A gap between the top of the wall and the roof was all that allowed in light. His voice recorder sat on the table, already recording.

  Daniel held his breath as he sat behind the table, waiting for the door to open and the source to reenter.

  The door opened, and the woman slipped in and pushed the door shut behind her quickly.

  Daniel felt awkward, alone in the same room with another woman. It was improper in any Central Asian culture.

  “Peace be upon you,” Daniel said in Dari. “What language do you prefer? I will do my best. I am here instead of Rex.”

  Instead of answering, the woman approached the table and stood opposite Daniel.

  She reached under her burqa, and Daniel tensed, fearing she would pull a weapon.

  Instead, she pulled out a small wad of cloth, and then another.

  She had disguised her form, Daniel thought to himself.

  Once she appeared much thinner, she reached up to her head and pulled off the niqab covering her face. She finally replied.

  “And peace upon you,” she answered. “Danyor-jon.” She called Daniel by his Uzbek name with the ending of endearment. Daniel immediately recognized the voice and the dark, almond eyes. It was the girl in Afghanistan everybody in America had said he had to get over.

  He could hardly speak when he said her name: “Nigora.”

  “Yes, it’s me,” she said. “I recognized your voice when you called. Any other voice and I would have run away.”

  As Daniel looked at her, dumbfounded, she removed more padding from under her clothing and put her handbag on the floor.

  “You’re the source?” Daniel stammered, not realizing he said it in English.

  The young woman tilted her head slightly, held his gaze with her dark eyes that had a slight twinkle, as she said sweetly, “Have you forgotten how to speak?”

  Daniel switched back to her language.

  “I’m sorry,” Daniel said. “I had no idea who you were. I’m so thankful you’re alive. I’ve thought about you so much.”

  Daniel wished they could talk for hours, but he had to know about Qaqramon. But Daniel couldn’t bring himself to raise that ugly name with Nigora yet.

  “I didn’t want to leave four years ago,” Daniel said, “but I had to. I want you to know that. You know that I left for my work, but then the Taliban came north, and it was not possible for me to return, no matter how badly I wanted to.”

  “I understand,” Nigora said. “My father and brother knew that must have been the case. It was hard, but we understood.”

  “I’ve continued studying your language, and I worked as a translator. You’ll be proud of me. I also went to Tajikistan and learned some Tajiki so I can get by a little bit in Dari, though it’s embarrassing.”

  “I am impressed, Danyor,” Nigora said with a grin.

  “And, recently, they sent me here to fight the Taliban,” Daniel said. Before she could respond, he added, “Is it true tha
t you—?”

  Daniel desperately wanted to know if Aziz had told the truth about Qaqramon taking Nigora as his wife, but Nigora answered a different question.

  “Oybek lives here in the city,” Nigora said. “But you must not go visit him. It would be too dangerous. He is not the same as when you left. He is now disabled and disfigured. And that’s why I am allowed to come to the city. To see him. And I need to buy some things as well.”

  “Was Oybek hurt in the fighting, by the Taliban?” Daniel asked.

  Nigora held a hand up to her mouth to hold back from crying. She didn’t say anything, and Daniel understood.

  “And Bobo, your father?” Daniel dared to ask.

  “I’m not sure,” she said. “I had to leave the village. Bobo is probably dead.”

  As soon as Daniel asked his next question, he regretted it. “Did you have to leave the village to marry?”

  “A powerful man was going to take everything in the village and kill us all if we did not pledge our allegiance to him,” Nigora said. “He’s a Taliban warlord. My father spoke and pleaded with him, and in the end, I was given to him as his second wife in exchange for safety. I had no choice. My father had to pretend to be proud that I would be with such a man as my husband, but I could see in his eyes that he hated it.”

  Daniel felt sick to his stomach. He’d always known that she would have most likely been married by now, but he never imagined a forced marriage as a second wife to a Taliban warlord.

  “My husband is powerful in the Taliban,” Nigora said. “More so since you Americans and the Northern Alliance took back Mazar-i-Sharif. I can either live as a miserable slave assisting the Taliban and eventually die in misery, or I knew that I could risk my life. I chose to risk my life and betrayed the Taliban and the man who is called my husband. I felt I could do it. I felt that I had the power to do that was right. My husband is proud and boastful. And when I must, I know how to make him talk.” She looked away with a mixture of anger and shame, not wanting to say any more. But she choked out the words, “But I will not give him children.”

  Daniel marveled at the woman who sat across from him. She had already suffered as a second wife, and she had escaped death by avoiding the car bomb. Nigora had done more for the War on Terror than Daniel had. He wanted to keep her safe. She had risked and done much.

  “Come with me to America,” Daniel said. “But I need your help.”

  “This is my land,” Nigora said, “and I won’t rest until my husband is dead and the Taliban is gone. I will have revenge for what he forced my father to do, and for the shame he brought on my brother.”

  Daniel admired the assertiveness in her voice as he looked at the glinting in her eyes that had now become burning flames. Not even the horror and abuse she had undoubtedly endured over the recent years could hide the fact that she was strong and beautiful. And, apparently, cunning.

  Daniel took a few deep breaths.

  “Why did you call off the meeting yesterday?” he asked.

  “I felt like I was being watched,” she said. “And I knew that I could make the backup meeting.”

  “You simply felt it?” Daniel asked.

  She shrugged.

  Daniel sensed Nigora had the right motivation, and so he decided to share more with her and ask for her help.

  “I need to tell you something that is dangerous for you to know,” Daniel said. “But I must, and then I will need your help.”

  Nigora blinked once slowly. Daniel sensed she was not going to back down from the danger.

  “The Taliban may soon have a nuclear weapon,” Daniel said plainly. Nigora gave a confused look, and Daniel quickly told her all the details that had led him to that conclusion. As he recounted events, Nigora listened without moving, her eyes fixed on Daniel. She didn’t speak until Daniel finished.

  “My husband recently returned,” Nigora said. “And his brother as well.”

  “Your husband is—?”

  “And he already has the nuclear weapon,” Nigora said.

  “No,” Daniel said in disbelief. “I don’t believe it. How do you know? Listen to this and see if you recognize the voice.”

  Daniel stopped his voice recorder and played his interview with Aziz at the ANA prison.

  “That is Aziz,” Nigora said after listening for a few moments. “Qaqramon is my husband. What Aziz told you about Qaqramon and me is true.”

  Daniel’s throat tightened, and he had to use all his strength to hold back tears.

  Nigora continued and explained why she thought Qaqramon already had the nuke. “They were celebrating, and not because they had reunited. They had something. I didn’t know then, but I know now. They must have the nuclear weapon.”

  Daniel sat in shock for several moments. He couldn’t think of what to ask next.

  “Is there anything more that you can tell me about Qaqramon?” Daniel finally asked. “I need to get him before… Before it’s too late.”

  “Qaqramon called a meeting with the other Taliban warlords in the region,” Nigora said. “It will be the first meeting they have all been together in a long time. That meeting must have something to do with the nuclear weapon.”

  “When? Where?”

  “Tomorrow night,” Nigora answered. “And it will be at the spring not far from my village. And his village. Do you remember the spring? We were there once. Other than that, I can never be sure of where Qaqramon will be.”

  “Yes,” Daniel answered. “Oybek took me there more than once.” Daniel had thought about his time at the spring with Nigora repeatedly over the years, but he could only bear to mention his visits to the spring with Oybek. Nigora, however, spoke casually about the spring and the one instance they had been there together.

  “I have to go soon,” Nigora said. “It’s dangerous for me to be here too long. Rex will know where and when the next meeting will be. And don’t bother bringing a local translator. I prefer speaking with you.”

  “Don’t go back, Nigora,” Daniel said. “That bomb at the bazaar was intended for you. We know that that bomb is linked to Qaqramon and Aziz. They know you’re a traitor. They know you’re the enemy. And they set off a bomb in the bazaar to get rid of you. You can’t go back to them.”

  “No,” Nigora said. “They only know they have a traitor among them. Qaqramon respects me too little to consider I would betray him. They don’t suspect me at all. If they did suspect me, they would make an example of me in front of everybody else, like they did my brother. They wouldn’t kill me anonymously with a bomb. They would make sure everybody saw my shame by torturing and then killing me publicly.”

  Daniel hoped she was right.

  “The nuclear weapon is probably small, perhaps only the core of it,” Daniel said. “If you have a chance, you need to steal it from him.” As soon as Daniel said it, he wished he hadn’t. “But you have already told me enough. The spring, tomorrow night.”

  Nigora held Daniel’s gaze.

  “I will do what I can,” Nigora said. “But his movements and where he sleeps is unpredictable.” She replaced the padding under her clothing and put on her head covering.

  “Goodbye, Danyor,” she said, and she slipped out the door.

  Daniel stopped his voice recorder and placed it in his pocket. He forced himself to count out loud to allow time to pass. All of what he had learned sunk in slowly. Seeing Nigora made him want to see Bobo as well. And Oybek.

  Daniel waited one minute and then entered the alley. He hurried towards the road, following Nigora.

  Daniel peered around the corner and spotted Nigora in the distance. Relieved he hadn’t lost her, Daniel looked the other way down the road. Another run-in with troublemakers on the street could be disastrous. Worse, Daniel feared somebody could be watching the street for anything unusual for the Taliban. Like what Daniel was about to do.

  Daniel held his breath and turned around the corner. Among the dusty roads and worn-down buildings along both sides of the street, Daniel eas
ily picked out Nigora. Several other men were walking in both directions, and nobody seemed to take note of Daniel. Nigora was one of the few women in sight. She had been shrewd to disguise her figure with the padding. Even though Qaqramon knew he had a traitor, nobody watching would ever guess it was his second wife, Nigora. By outward appearances, the traitor was bulkier, and possibly a disguised man.

  Daniel stayed back far enough to follow Nigora through the grid of the city, careful to watch for her to make sudden moves. However, not once did she double back, make a sharp turn, or abruptly cross the street. There were no large shop windows in which she could look for reflections.

  She’s not worried about anybody following her, Daniel thought.

  After about fifteen minutes of walking, Daniel watched Nigora enter a three-story building. Shops, now empty, were on the bottom floor, but apartments were on the upper levels.

  Daniel’s hopes rose as he realized this was most likely where Oybek, Nigora’s brother, lived.

  As Daniel looked at the windows on the second and third floors, he thought he saw a shadow of movement in the apartment on the third floor. That was probably where Nigora was now talking with Oybek. At least he hoped it was Oybek. But Daniel wondered if she was meeting with somebody else. Probably not Qaqramon, but some other Taliban member.

  A moment of panic went through Daniel’s body. What if Nigora was faithful to the Taliban? What if the car bomb was intended to prove her value to the Americans?

  Daniel considered going to the apartment and seeing who was there. If it was Oybek, then he risked not only breaking Nigora’s trust, but also that somebody was keeping an eye on Oybek’s apartment, and this would result in the death of both Oybek and Nigora.

  Was Nigora a traitor to the Taliban or the Americans, Daniel wondered.

  Daniel calculated all the scenarios in his head. Until that moment, he had believed Nigora completely. In his mind and heart, she had been the purest person he had met in Central Asia.

  After hesitating, Daniel prepared himself to cross the street to the building and enter it. But as he looked to see if the way was clear, one of the curtains in a window on the top floor opened. Daniel couldn’t help but look up. He saw a man for a few seconds before he moved away.