by K. D. Lamb
From the look of fear and concern in Jangi’s eyes, Rashid knew they must leave at once, within the hour. He also knew that Poya must go with them for the time being. Once the troops had left Bamiyan, it would be safe for Poya to return to Jangi’s farm.
Rashid explained the situation to Kendall, and everyone went into action. Quick showers were taken, and Rashid’s jeep was filled with food, drink, and more ammunition. Jangi’s wife shoved several clean headscarves and a chadrei, or long headscarf providing full coverage, at Kendall. They were stowed away. The license plate from the Toyota Corolla was removed, and several large machines, bales of hay, and miscellaneous equipment were casually placed around it. It looked like a broken-down vehicle that had been sitting there for some time. No attempt was made to hide it.
Jangi and Rashid pored over the map of the Bamiyan Province. They discussed the options, and there was much pointing northwest into the mountains overlooking the valley. As the jeep sped away from the house and made a beeline for the higher hills, a convoy of military troops was headed toward Jangi’s house. The procession of military vehicles was five minutes away. His house was on the edge of town. It made sense that his farm would be one of the first to be searched.
The jeep headed north into the hills where thousands of caves stood watch over the Bamiyan Valley. They drove for about thirty minutes on a winding dusty backroad that was not well traveled. They found a secluded spot behind a row of large boulders to park the car. Kendall was instructed to remain in the jeep. Rashid and Poya went in search of an abandoned available cave for their short stay. Before they left, Rashid had pointed out the many large boulders and shrubs nearby. He informed her that if she needed a toilet, she would have to find something amongst the natural landscape. She was aghast.
After walking for half an hour and seeing many families squeezed into the confines of a red stone cavern, they chose one on the third level of caves up a dirt pathway. The cave had a particularly narrow opening that looked hardly habitable, which was probably why it had been abandoned. They rushed back to the jeep, and the three of them carried as many of their possessions as they could. Kendall wore a large headscarf pulled low that covered all of her hair and half of her face. She walked with her head down and basically blended in with the other women. The weary trio looked like they carried all of their worldly possessions on their backs.
Kendall was shocked at the tight, dark space that was to be their living quarters for the next day or two. Rashid explained that he and Poya would need to speak Dari when in the cave, so as not to rouse the curiosity of their neighbors. When she wanted to speak English, she would need to stand close to him or Poya and whisper. She nodded.
She had never been so miserable or scared in her life. She sank down onto the floor of the cave. She longed to listen to her iPod or turn on the radio just to relieve the terrible tension. It was almost unbearable. But she knew that world full of expensive toys and worldly must-haves, which she had so taken for granted a month before, was well beyond her reach here. She looked out towards the small vertical band of light barely shining into their eight feet of living space. It was really just a hole cut into the rock by rain and wind. Kendall leaned her head against the wall of the stone chamber. A single tear slid down her face.
Rashid stood sentry at the narrow opening of their temporary “home.” He allowed Poya to roam around nearby and talk to the other cave-dwelling families, but cautioned him not to stray too far away. Poya was not to discuss where he was from or how they traveled. He was told to shrug and change the subject. They needed to hear the news, and decided it was the most expedient and practical to have Poya wander around and interact with the others. He would not raise suspicion like an obviously educated Rashid.
People were curious, though, and at one point a man poked his head into the cave and asked if they would like to join his family for tea. As Kendall averted her head, Rashid declined, pointing to her and saying that she was not feeling well. The man quickly backed out of their cave, not wanting to catch any sickness from the new people. Rashid was immediately sorry that he had used that excuse. Around these very poor, uneducated people, they would not take kindly to a stranger introducing an illness to their population. He was really hoping there would be no gossip about them; that they would just blend in.
Poya quickly learned that the main living in the caves was eked out by the children. The caverns were only a mile from the Bamiyan morning market. During the day, the children would run around the countryside, picking up grass, hay, and other fruits, nuts, and potatoes, and either bring them back for their families or sell them at the market.
The ceilings of the caves were rounded and about seven feet high. In the seventh century, the Buddhist monks had occupied the caves, using them to meditate. The caves could accommodate a small fire near the entrance. The children gathered dung from the countryside to stoke the fires. Many of the caves had makeshift or crude doors made out of discarded wood or a rug that had been hung up.
In the early evening, Rashid made a fire and they had a meager meal of bread, melon, and nuts. Rashid had plenty of money with him, but it was imperative that they hide from the troops now scouring the nearby countryside. Poya offered to go out to the Bamiyan morning market first thing in the morning pretending to find some day labor work. He would listen to the news and bring back word to Rashid. Kendall was afraid for his safety but knew that was the most practical solution for them.
Rashid could see that Kendall was miserable. He decided that based on what Poya learned tomorrow, they would determine their next course of action in the evening. But he told himself that they would leave as soon as it was safe.
As the evening wore on and the stars shown brighter, Rashid and Poya sat on either side of Kendall. They decided to distract her by telling her what they could hear from the other caves. Voices carried in the tunnel-like tombs, and many conversations swirled around them. An excited teenager above them was telling his family that when he was walking back from the market, he came upon a police commander and two officers who had rounded up a family of eight at the side of the road. The teenager hid behind a piece of old, rusting farming equipment to hear what was being said. The patriarch of the family of eight was accused of murdering two local brothers when he could not pay his debt to them. The police commander explained his mission and then promptly killed all eight family members to avenge the deaths. The young man waited behind the tree for an hour as the policemen searched every body … rifling through their clothes and belongings … taking what they wanted for themselves.
The large extended family living on their one side was loud and boisterous. The father was railing against the local government, because last week his ten year old had stolen a loaf of bread from the market. He was caught, and two fingers were cut off. The youngster was going to recover, although he also had a bad cough. The parents were angry that he had not been able to scavenge in the streets and countryside for a week now.
Kendall had been sipping some tea and choked when they recounted the story. “Stop!” she hissed. “I don’t want to hear any more.”
She was surprised how well Poya adapted to their bleak existence in the cave. He was happy to be with Rashid and away from the palace. He missed the horses, but was glad that he was no longer being mistreated by the Shazeb family. He curled up and slept with a smile on his face.
Kendall took one last walk under the watchful eyes of Rashid out to the boulders to relieve herself by the jeep and then settled in for the night. She tried not to think about how dirty her hands and face were. As she drifted off to sleep on the hard surface of the cave’s floor, on which only a thin pad had been hastily thrown down, she kept waking to voices all around her. It was the oddest thing she had ever encountered … living in a space with no front door … completely at the mercy of her neighbors’ whims. The thought was so surreal that she actually smiled. She told herself that it was probably hysteria.
Rashid lay on his bedroll thinking abo
ut what he hadn’t told Kendall. People were talking about him, having heard from trips to the Bamiyan market about the deaths of the Afghan leader’s family. The people thought how wonderful it would be to get the reward money. So long as Kendall kept out of sight, and Rashid’s jeep wasn’t recognized, they would not be discovered. But it was too much to hope for. In reality, the trio with their clean clothes and quiet ways, who kept to themselves as if they were better than everyone else, was attracting attention. It was only a matter of time before someone tossed a match onto the perfectly built haystack.
CHAPTER THIRTY-THREE
THE U.S. INTELLIGENCE COMMUNITY AND government leaders were reeling. Along with the world, they had just watched the Israeli video about the rescue of the Orion Premier CEO and CFO. The Israelis paraded Paul Fields in front of the cameras. He looked well enough but seemed stunned and, for once, at a loss for words. Glenn Carson was reported to be in serious but stable condition, now that he was receiving the best medical care.
There were scant details on the “rescue.” Israel simply stated that its carrier was in nearby waters on a routine mission and had received a distress call from within an Afghanistan government building. After confirming the source and accuracy of the report, it sent a helicopter that landed on the rooftop and rescued the two Orion executives. No information was given about Kendall Radcliffe or Rashid Sharif. But the Israeli spokesperson did say that the helicopter was forced to take off abruptly and use evasive maneuvers to get back to the awaiting ship in the Arabian Sea. Nothing was said about the Afghanistan doctor that accompanied the Americans.
The world was stunned. Nothing made sense. Afghanistan had a competent military complete with its own capable air force that should have responded. Israel should never have been able to fly into Afghanistan airspace, let alone land on a government rooftop. The only conclusion was that the Afghan military communication network and radar had been jammed, deactivated, or destroyed.
The bombing that was seen by satellite during the day did not target the military. But the images showed the presidential palace had been bombed. No one was sure what the story was. Israel wasn’t saying anything and appeared to know little beyond the rescue.
The worldwide intelligence community wasn’t buying it. There was much more to the story. The U.S., in particular, was furious. Why hadn’t it been told of the planned rescue, even if it was an emergency? In the old days, Israel would never have taken such steps without consulting the international powers.
On the face of it, the American citizens, Seattleites, Orion employees, and the Fields and Carson families were ecstatic. They didn’t ask for further explanation. They were just glad that their loved ones and citizens had been rescued.
The press event concluded with a statement that in the morning the Orion executives would be flown to Tel Aviv, where Glenn Carson would be transferred to the top trauma center there.
The cameras went dark, and the tension in the executive conference room onboard the Israeli carrier eased. Israeli officials at the podium shook hands and congratulated themselves. Officers approached Paul Fields and fawned over him, asking if there was anything they could do for him. He was offered a refreshment and chose coffee, strong and black. Fields was momentarily overwhelmed and uneasy at all the attention. He soon recovered and asked for a phone and a computer.
Commander Reichenfeld agreed to the phone and computer, and asked that the computer be set up at the back of the conference room. He wasn’t about to let Fields have a private computer. Whoever he communicated with was going to be the business of Israel. All phone conversations would be taped, and the computer would capture the network activity by history and content. Reichenfeld and his crew, of course, were not privy to Prophecy. For that reason, the commander had been warned that the Mossad would be keeping an eye on Fields’ computer activities, from afar. Naturally, the commander was curious about the process but valued his elevated position more, and therefore said nothing.
Paul Fields began a marathon of phone calls starting with his family. He assured them he would be fine and that his wife did not need to meet him in Israel. He would be home in the next few days. He did not have his passport with him and would be working with the U.S. embassy in Jerusalem to procure a replacement. His wife thought he was subdued and kinder than usual. For once, she was anxious to have him home.
He then called his head of security, Eric “Mickey” McDougall.
“Hello, Mickey, this is Paul.”
“Oh, thank God, Mr. Fields, Sir. You’re all right! I just saw the press conference. What would you like me to do?”
“Is the company plane back in the air?”
“Yes, Sir, it is. Standing by, awaiting orders.”
“Good. Please bring it to Tel Aviv to pick me up. Arrange for Mrs. Carson to travel with you. She will want to see her husband. I’m hoping that just hearing her voice will help him recover faster.”
“Anything else, Mr. Fields?”
“Please, Mickey, you always call me Paul.”
“I know, Sir. You’ve just been through a lot. We’ve all been so worried.”
“More than you know. But I want to be out of this fucking circus and back in Seattle as soon as possible.”
“Understandable, Paul, Sir.”
“Is that it?”
“Yes. Please patch me through to my office.”
“Okay.”
There was an awkward pause as Fields waited to be transferred to his executive administrator. But he wasn’t put on hold. Finally, he said, “Mickey, are you still there?”
Mickey blurted out, “Uh, yes. What about Kendall Radcliffe? What’s happened to her? Was she with you?”
Fields thought quickly and then answered carefully, fearful of unknown ears. “Yes, she was with us by happenstance. Carson and I ran into her at the hotel in DC. That’s how she came to be on our charter.”
It didn’t sound like he was going to offer anything further. Mickey just had to press for more. Too many people had inquired about her. His face was beet red as he whispered into the phone, “But why wasn’t she rescued when you were?”
“I don’t know, Mickey. We were about to take fire, and the helicopter just lifted off the rooftop.”
“Was she with you?”
Fields felt terrible. He hated admitting that Kendall was left behind while he was rescued. “Yes, she was behind me when we were loaded onto the helicopter. Troops came storming out of the building.”
“What happened to her? Is she still alive?”
“I don’t know, Mickey. I didn’t see her after that. Now will you patch me through?”
“Absolutely, Paul. Right away.”
Fields spoke with his executive admin for thirty minutes, assuring her that he was fine and that he would be home soon. He told her that Mickey would be bringing the plane to Tel Aviv and that hopefully Mrs. Carson would accompany the security detail. He asked her to get him a new cell phone and laptop and have the latter set up exactly like the old one. He requested that Daniel Blumfeld personally oversee the configuration. Since it was early morning in Seattle, Daniel would have time to drive to Seattle and get the laptop ready before the flight left later in the day.
Fields had to repeat everything twice, because his executive admin kept interrupting him with sobs. She had written him off as dead, and couldn’t believe that the ornery, ruthless, sonofabitch had survived. She was happy, for her sake. She wondered how his wife had taken the news that he had survived. Finally, Fields outlined the emergency meetings he would need to conduct upon his return, starting with the board of directors and Orion executives. Once he knew his upcoming schedule better, he would have her start filling up his calendar.
The Orion CEO hung up and sat back to take his first breath. He felt satisfied that he had spoken with everyone he needed to for the moment. He looked around, and saw that the room was mostly empty. The furniture had been efficiently rearranged to its original configuration. His eyes traveled to the two men
sitting at the nearby conference table. He locked eyes with Commander Reichenfeld. The latter quickly looked away.
“Commander?”
“Yes, Mr. Fields?”
“I’m tired, but I would like to use the computer. Can it be moved to my room?”
“I’m sorry Mr. Fields. I understand you’re tired. But the rooms are not equipped for computer hookup. The ship was configured that way on purpose, so the men would not be tempted to have personal computers in their rooms. You understand. We’d never get them out of their rooms. Any time you want, you can use the computers in the resource room.”
Fields frowned and nodded. And the commander did not bother to inform him there were rooms wired with network lines. Fields just wasn’t assigned one of those rooms, on purpose. He looked directly at the commander. “Any update on Kendall?”
Reichenfeld had the decency to look uncomfortable. He shook his head. “I’m sorry, no word.”
“From Rashid either?”
The commander shrugged, “Nothing.”
Fields requested to be taken back to his room. He was given something to help him sleep. He awoke sometime in the middle of the night trying to catch his breath. He had been dreaming that as the helicopter rose from the rooftop, Kendall had been shot in the back by the soldiers and then blown up by whoever bombed the AIDC building. He then lay there and replayed the rooftop events in his head.
He was puzzled, wondering if the helicopter he was on had bombed the building, and he just missed it in all the chaos? No, he was certain there was no gunfire or missiles shot from his helicopter. It was all they could do to maneuver vertically and head south for the Arabian Sea as fast as they could. But then who destroyed the building? He sat up and had a brief moment of terror, wondering if Israel was going to cut Rashid loose. Kendall, by mere association, would once again be in the wrong place at the wrong time.