The Greatest Game

by J A Heaton

  “We’re under heavy fire. We need to withdraw,” Rex said.

  Daniel cursed to himself as he listened to the exchange. Rex and his men would not hesitate to lose their lives if it meant completing the mission. Daniel prayed to God that it would not come to that, especially if they didn’t find the nuke.

  Daniel looked to General Jones, trying to figure out why Qaqramon and the nuke weren’t there.

  “Search has come up negative,” Rex reported. “We need to get out of here before we’re overrun.”

  “Get the hell out,” Jones ordered.

  “Yessir,” Rex answered.

  Rex and two men with him went to the doorway, met the other two, and gave the order to withdraw.

  “Covering fire, Gunner,” Rex told Gunner.

  “Happily,” came the reply over the radio just before his weapon released its full fury on the Taliban.

  Rex and the others ran towards the mountainside to make their escape.

  “Oh, God!” Rex gasped as he stumbled down. “I’m hit.”

  One man helped Rex locate the wound. It was in his leg.

  “Don’t worry. We’ll get you out of here,” the man said.

  The man wrapped Rex’s leg and then slung Rex over his shoulders.

  The five Special Forces soldiers raced away from the buildings towards their two men waiting for them up on the mountainside. Two guarded their rear retreat, intermittently kneeling and returning fire.

  One of them took a round and fell, but the other grabbed him and slung him over his shoulders and continued the retreat.

  The five of them worked their way up the rocky hillside and found cover next to Gunner. Walters joined them moments later.

  “We’ve lost Harper, sir,” one said about the man he had hauled up on his back.

  The other six cursed as Walters and Gunner continued slowing the Taliban’s advance towards their position on the mountainside.

  “I’m going to make it,” Rex said. “But I’m going to need some help.”

  “Head up the mountain and go through the minefield,” General Jones said over the radio. “They will think you’re crazy and won’t follow.”

  Moments later, the seven soldiers began the arduous trek up to the mountain’s upper ridge. One carried Harper, and another carried Rex. The other three sporadically fired back towards the Taliban.

  At the base in Mazar-i-Sharif, Daniel’s legs gave out under him, and he collapsed onto a chair.

  Another American dead. Another injured. Rex is hit, too. And still no nuke.

  The general and Daniel looked at each other, and they were thinking the same thing.

  Where is the nuke? Where is Qaqramon? Was Reza a diversion?

  Daniel wondered if Nigora knew.

  21

  When Qaqramon reached the top of the stairwell, he leaned his cart carrying the rice sack against the wall. Digging through his other bag, he found a pair of keys.

  Qaqramon leaned into the door as he used one key to release the deadbolt. He grabbed the handle and used the other key to unlock it and then swung the door open towards himself.

  Qaqramon entered the apartment, pulling his rice sack behind him. He knew what to expect, but he still had to be careful.

  The other man in the apartment, however, was confused.

  Oybek rested on the floor in the sitting room, trying to keep warm.

  “Hallo?” Oybek called out. The greeting would suffice in nearly any language. Oybek incorrectly thought that only Nigora had a key to his apartment, but he had not been expecting her.

  Oybek started when the man with slightly whitened hair entered the sitting room.

  “Who are you?” Oybek said, but then he remembered his manners. “Come, take a seat. Have some tea.” An Uzbek’s kindness and hospitality towards this older man was automatic.

  Oybek struggled to his feet, only able to stand with assistance due to his injuries.

  “I need this apartment for business,” Qaqramon said calmly.

  Oybek froze and then crumbled to the ground when he heard the man speak.

  Oybek recognized the voice.

  He knew the man was Qaqramon.

  The man took off his darkened glasses and said, “Your usefulness to me is over.”

  Oybek raised his hands, but he was no match for Qaqramon who struck him several times in the head. Qaqramon would not enjoy this killing. His opponent was weak, but he needed to get it over with.

  Oybek lay on the ground, moaning in pain as Qaqramon paused.

  Qaqramon pulled a wire from his breast pocket and wrapped the cord around Oybek’s neck.

  He pulled it tight and lifted Oybek up.

  “You won’t see your sister again,” Qaqramon said as Oybek struggled for his life against Qaqramon’s grip. “I will soon be powerful enough to defeat your American friends. Your sister knows this. The other night, she laid with me, and I did whatever I wanted to her.”

  Qaqramon relished in this last statement.

  Oybek tried to twist around and spit at him, disgusted at how he spoke about his sister.

  “And I’ll do it to her again and again after you’re dead,” Qaqramon gloated. Qaqramon loosened his grip slightly so Oybek didn’t die too quickly.

  Oybek struggled weakly, his life slowly draining from him.

  “Before you die,” Qaqramon whispered, “I want you to know that your father is next. And then I will get my revenge on the Americans, beginning with your friend who killed my brother. I will make him suffer much longer than you.”

  Rage filled Qaqramon when he remembered Aziz, and he could no longer restrain himself. Blood came from Oybek’s neck as the wire cut the skin.

  Oybek gave a shudder, and then his last bit of life passed from him.

  Qaqramon allowed his body to fall to the ground, and then he dragged it into the lone bedroom where the radio rested on the floor. Qaqramon examined the car batteries that powered it, knowing he needed the radio to confirm payment. He searched the room for a few moments, but then he went to the kitchen and shut the door behind him.

  After throwing out Oybek’s cold tea, Qaqramon started a pot of hot water. He set the rice bag inconspicuously in the kitchen’s corner and sat in Oybek’s place.

  Now it was Qaqramon’s turn to wait. He checked the time. It was not long after nine at night.

  Gunfire and explosions erupted around the city.

  Just as planned, Qaqramon thought to himself.

  Rex and his men rested behind large boulders about two hundred feet short of the upper ridge. Gunner and Walters had provided the cover fire downward at the Taliban that made possible the exhausting struggle up the rocky mountainside. Rex rested not far from Harper’s lifeless body as the two Special Forces men who carried Rex and Harper joined Walters and Gunner in the gunfight after setting them down.

  “For Harper!” the one who had carried Harper yelled out as he fired upon the Taliban pursuing them up the mountain.

  “Ice, this is Baby,” General Jones said over the radio. “Air support is in position, but you’re too close to the target. Once you make the ridge, call it in.”

  “We’ll make our final push to the top soon, sir,” Rex responded. “When we make it, they won’t follow us, and I’ll call in the strike. But I’m hit. I’m passing the command to Walters.” Rex leaned against a large boulder and looked up the mountainside.

  “Copy that, Ice,” Jones said. “We’ll get you home safe and sound.”

  Rex struggled to keep his wits as guns fired around him and bullets struck nearby rocks. He looked over at Harper’s body and hoped General Jones was right.

  The gunfire slowed, and Walters said, “They’re letting up. Get ready for the final push to the top.”

  Rex wondered what the Taliban below were waiting for. Even though the Americans held the higher ground, the Taliban thought they were backed against a minefield.

  “Gunner will continue pinning down the Taliban below,” Walters said before commanding, �
��Upward!”

  Rex braced himself for the pain of being slung over another man’s shoulders, but he thought he saw movement above them. He blinked his eyes and focused.

  He was certain now. Several Taliban were coming down the mountainside towards them.

  They slowed down below to catch us by surprise from above, Rex thought.

  Rex tried to yell a warning, but only a croak came out. He pulled his pistol and fired up the mountainside. He missed, but he had alerted the others.

  The Special Forces men refocused their firepower up the mountainside.

  “We can’t stay here,” Walters ordered. “Move! Move!”

  Two of them picked up Rex and Harper, and the band of Special Forces men continued fighting their way up the mountain.

  Without the element of surprise, the Taliban on the higher ground quickly fell prey to the superior night vision and marksmanship of the Americans.

  “We’re on our way, and we’ll reach the top soon,” Walters reported to General Jones over the radio. “Several Taliban snuck up on us from above, through the minefield.”

  Before Jones could respond, another call came in from a checkpoint on the edge of Mazar-i-Sharif.

  “This is South checkpoint,” the voice came in over the radio. “We are coming under fire!” Within moments, the other border checkpoints of Mazar-i-Sharif reported that they were under attack.

  “All four checkpoints under attack at the same time, on the same night when Qaqramon is supposedly going to sell the nuke?” Jones wondered out loud.

  “Fallback if necessary,” General Jones told each of the checkpoints. “I’m sending reinforcements.”

  General Jones put the base on full alert and ordered the remaining soldiers to reinforce the checkpoints.

  “It feels like a diversion to me,” Daniel said.

  “Me too,” Jones agreed. “But I can’t leave my men out there with their asses flapping in the wind.”

  “Have you made the ridge yet?” the general said over the radio to Walters.

  “We’ve got one or two more to take out,” Walters responded. “Where the hell did they come from? They weren’t here when we came in.”

  Daniel cursed to himself as he realized what must have happened.

  “I need to find Nigora,” Daniel told Jones.

  “A little late for that,” Jones said with a rare edge of impatience. “In case you didn’t notice, we’re involved in gunfights right now.”

  “Those Taliban at the top of the ridge,” Daniel said, “they came through the minefield after Rex did. I told Nigora what her father had told me. It isn’t really a minefield. Nigora told Qaqramon. He knew we would use that to our advantage.”

  General Jones hunched over and rested his fists on the table as he fumed.

  “She betrayed us and played you,” Jones observed, but with less anger than Daniel expected.

  “She must know where the nuke and Qaqramon are,” Daniel said. “I think I know where I can find her, but—”

  “Here,” General Jones said as he straightened up and reached into his pocket. “Take my bike.” He pulled out a pair of keys and threw them to Daniel. “Where are you going?”

  “Her brother’s apartment,” Daniel said. He grabbed a handheld radio.

  “I’ll tell the checkpoint to expect you,” Jones yelled. “And don’t tell Rex I even let you touch my bike.”

  Daniel hurried to the motorcycle and mounted it. The motorcycle rumbled to life beneath him, and then he roared towards the front gate and was soon heading into the city at top speed. The diversion at the checkpoint was over just as quickly as it had started, and Daniel zoomed through as the guards waved him past.

  As the cold air rushed past his face, Daniel realized that he would never have the life or love that he had longed for with Nigora.

  She had betrayed him.

  Qaqramon sat in Oybek’s apartment, waiting. The gunfire from the attacks on the checkpoint quickly died down. They had served their purpose: a diversion that would make it nearly one hundred percent assured that the buyer would arrive at the apartment without detection.

  Pounding at the door startled Qaqramon. Knowing the buyer would be more discreet, Qaqramon grumbled at what he guessed was a nosy neighbor.

  “Oybek!” a voice yelled from outside.

  Qaqramon cursed his bad luck. Nobody other than Nigora ever visited this apartment.

  How could somebody come looking now?

  He considered ignoring the visitor in the stairwell, knowing there was no way anybody could force the door. But things could go very wrong if his buyer arrived while a stranger was making noise.

  Qaqramon reluctantly rose from his seat, cursed, and went to look through the peephole.

  What Qaqramon saw startled him. He drew back.

  Qaqramon took a deep breath to calm his rage.

  I’ll have revenge on the American who killed Aziz earlier than I expected, Qaqramon thought to himself.

  “Is Nigora there?” the voice called in Uzbek from outside. “Where is she?”

  Qaqramon looked through the peephole again. He didn’t think the American was armed, but he couldn’t be certain.

  He is a linguist, Qaqramon reminded himself. He was lucky when he killed Aziz, who had probably grown lazy. Even if he is armed, he won’t know what to do with a gun. I will surprise him.

  Qaqramon’s rage cooled to a smolder and focused him. He decided he would kill the American slowly, as he had Oybek.

  After placing the dark glasses back on his face, Qaqramon checked his appearance in the mirror. His hair still appeared whitened. The American wouldn’t suspect an old man whom he wouldn’t recognize.

  Allowing the motorcycle to fall to the ground, Daniel ran up the stairs to Oybek’s apartment. He pounded on the door and yelled.

  “Oybek?”

  He pounded more and then pressed his ear to the door to listen for anybody inside.

  “Is Nigora there?” Daniel called. “Where is she?”

  He pounded again.

  Daniel relaxed when he heard the locks unlatching. After the door swung out towards him, he froze, surprised by the unknown man the candlelight from inside revealed. His eyes hid behind darkened glasses, and his whitened hair indicated he was much older than Daniel.

  “Where’s Oybek?” Daniel demanded. Daniel reached instinctively towards his holster as he examined the man. But he wasn’t wearing a holster; Daniel had left the base in too much of a hurry and only carried his voice recorder and a handheld radio.

  The older man gestured for Daniel to enter.

  Daniel hurried in, looked about the sitting room and kitchen. Seeing nobody there, he called on his handheld radio to General Jones.

  “Oybek’s not here,” he said. “And neither is Nigora. But there is somebody I’ve never met. I’ll see what he knows.”

  “Tea?” the older man asked.

  “Yes,” Daniel replied in Uzbek, figuring anybody who knew Oybek must also speak Uzbek. “It is an emergency. Where is Oybek? Do you know his sister, Nigora? Where is she?”

  He didn’t respond to Daniel’s questions. Instead, he motioned for Daniel to sit and then went into the kitchen.

  Daniel’s mind churned, trying to figure out what was going on. The nuke had seemed so close, and yet nothing made sense at this moment. Oybek wasn’t there. Nigora wasn’t there. The nuke wasn’t in Qaqramon’s village.

  “How do you know Oybek?” Daniel asked, still standing as his eyes scanned around the room. “Do you know where he is? It’s an emergency.”

  “Come back to base,” Jones ordered over the radio. “It’s too dangerous on the streets.”

  “A few more questions,” Daniel responded as he stepped to look out the window. “Then I’ll come back.”

  “Oybek isn’t here,” the old man said to Daniel from the kitchen. “You will see him soon. I’ve known him and his family for a long time. But please sit down. I have green tea ready.”

  Daniel recogn
ized the voice. He didn’t need Jenny’s computer algorithm to tell him. Aziz and Qaqramon spoke the same way, even if Daniel couldn’t put his finger on exactly what it was.

  And the green tea.

  Daniel’s body tensed.

  Daniel announced, “I need to use the bathroom.”

  The man gave no response from the kitchen, and Daniel went back towards the entrance. Opposite the bathroom was the door into the single bedroom. Instead of entering the bathroom, he quickly pushed the bedroom door in and rushed to the pillow on top of the floor mat that served as Oybek’s bed.

  As Daniel reached under the pillow, he saw a body lying lifelessly along the wall. Though the room was dark, he had no doubt it was Oybek.

  Pressing a hand over his mouth, he tried to muffle his yell, but he couldn’t silence himself. His other hand felt frantically under the pillow. But nothing was there.

  Qaqramon spoke in the hallway, no longer disguising his voice.

  “I have what you are looking for,” Qaqramon said. “Come out slowly, and don’t try anything. I’d rather not shoot you. I want you to watch later tonight as I make history. And then I will kill you slowly.”

  Daniel heard the click of Qaqramon cocking a pistol.

  Qaqramon must have taken Oybek’s pistol.

  Daniel went to Oybek and reached into his breast pocket. He pulled out Aziz’s knife.

  I’d trade this and my voice recorder for my Glock right now, Daniel thought to himself.

  Daniel remained in the room and called out to Qaqramon, “I’m not coming out. You’ll need to come in and get me.” His voice was slow and bold. “Your home is under attack, and most of your men are dead by now. You won’t have anybody left to lead besides women and children. Even if you kill me, you will never get away. Turn yourself in, and you can live. You will never have a nuke.”

  “You are not in a position to make demands,” Qaqramon answered. “Nigora told me all about the fake minefield between my village and hers. She is loyal to me. She said that you love her. She told me that just before she slept with me. She is greedy to satisfy my appetite. I knew you would use the fake minefield as an avenue for attack. If the Americans manage to escape to Nigora’s old village, they will discover a small army has moved in and is waiting for them.”