by K. D. Lamb
“What about the landmines? They seem to be everywhere.”
“They are. We’ll just be careful and always on alert. The higher and deeper we get into the Hindu Kush mountains and the further from the main roads, the safer we’ll be.”
Kendall looked around at all their belongings. “Do you think we can take everything?”
“Absolutely! A camel can carry about three hundred pounds. I think we have about one hundred and fifty, so we don’t have to buy a young, sturdy camel.”
“Oh, great! And what if we get a lemon?”
Rashid looked at her like she’d lost her mind. She laughed and waved at him. “Never mind! It’s just my perverse sense of humor. I’m thinking about what if you were buying a used car, and it was not sound. It might break down, and we’d be stranded.”
He got the joke. “Well, I’m not planning on purchasing a ‘lemon,’ as you say. I’ve watched these types of purchases before. I know not to purchase a plain or sand-bred camel. It needs to be used to walking on rocks.”
“What else, Mr. Camel Expert?”
He grinned. “You can tell the camel’s condition by the firmness and size of the hump, the fullness of its quarters, and how solid its neck is. A camel’s strength is in its forelegs. Its quarters are actually fairly weak. The breast pad lies under the withers, or shoulders. That’s where it would carry its load.”
“I know something about camels.”
Rashid laughed, “Okay. Dazzle me with your knowledge.”
She proudly proclaimed, “Camels store water in their humps.”
He hated to burst her bubble, but corrected her. “No, Kendall. That’s not right.”
She looked shocked. “Really?”
“Sorry, but camels store fat in their humps, not water. Sometimes the hump leans over. That means the camel hasn’t eaten in quite a while.”
She shook her head in wonderment. “That makes absolutely no sense. Why would fat be stored in the humps?”
“It reduces the need to insulate its body. They can withstand a wide range in temperatures. This helps the camel survive in hot and cold climates. It’s also why they can go so long without drinking.”
“Okay, you win. But where are we going to find a camel?”
“You don’t notice much around you, do you?”
“What do you mean?”
“Didn’t you see the camel train or group of nomads camped behind the huge outcrop that has those cave formations at the bottom?”
“No. I was too busy looking at the lakes. I can’t get enough of that gorgeous blue water, and the scary steep cliff walls that drop right into the water.”
“That’s easy to understand. There are very few places on earth that have lakes this color and deep. It’s the mineral content, did you know that?”
“No, I didn’t.”
He felt the conversation after dinner had gone well. She now knew the plan, and like it or not, was ready to embark on the next stage of their journey. They cleaned up their few dinner implements and decided to go to bed early. Rashid wanted to get a head start on the day. He hoped the drying carp would not attract any wild animals to their site.
He lay on his bedroll and wondered what he looked like. He had not shaved in days, and his beard was coming in thick and dark. He imagined he was going to blend in nicely with the nomadic men. He made a mental note to warn Kendall in the morning to wear the full blue burqa robe still worn by many of the Afghan women in the north. He was so glad that Jangi’s wife had pressed one on them before they left.
As he began to drift off to sleep he was completely unaware of the convoy of military vehicles slowly proceeding into the Band-e-Amir Lake area.
CHAPTER THIRTY-SEVEN
AFTER AN EXTRA DAY IN Tel Aviv to secure the necessary approvals and acquire the proper documentation, the Orion plane was readied for the journey back to Seattle. It would make one stopover for refueling, and then land in Seattle early evening. The flight was uneventful, except for the eclectic mix of passengers. There had never been such a diverse group of people on the Orion plane before. The most amazing part was that it all seemed so normal now for Paul Fields and Glenn Carson. They couldn’t have cared less who was on board the return flight. They were so relieved to be free of their Afghanistan adventure and to be heading back to the U.S., that flexibility had somehow become the norm for them.
Fields was wondering if he would ever be able to bark orders and make demands again. He had personally experienced the effects of too much power placed in one man’s hands. The fact that Mujtaba Shazeb came to rule because of a power grab only added to the tyrannical nature of his rule.
Once the flight passed into U.S. airspace, the Orion executives let out a sigh of relief. They were safe now. The plane’s initial leg of the journey took it to Andrews Air Force Base in Washington, DC, where the Immigration and Customs Enforcement, or ICE, officer, FBI agents, and sour-faced State Department official took Maysah Siddra off the plane. The plan was to speak with her for a couple more days in DC, until all necessary paperwork, approvals, and living details were attended to before her final move to Seattle.
Two mysterious and grim-faced officials came on board during the refueling at Andrews Air Force Base. They urged Fields and Carson to disembark for additional questioning in DC. The Orion executives flatly declined the “invitation” and in no uncertain terms made their wishes known. They were going back to Seattle to be re-united with their families. If the government wished to speak with them further, they would happily make themselves available in Seattle. The men had figured on that response all along. But now they had secured the continued cooperation of the executives and should have easy access to them in the days to come.
After a quick check on Carson’s well-being, and his insistence that he was fine and they should depart, the plane was back in the air heading due west. Mickey looked around. The only ones left on board were Fields, Carson and his wife, the plane’s crew, and the Orion security team. They landed to much fanfare at Boeing field, where the homecoming had been big news all day. Carson was visibly worn out and was quickly whisked away by his wife and a security detail.
Fields stayed ten minutes longer to give a general statement and answer a few questions from the press. He promised the media that he would make himself available for a lengthy interview once he had settled into his old routine. He was impatient to see his wife and kids and opted for one of the company helicopters, which was standing by to deliver him to his secure compound. Thank God for Mickey, he thought. That man can make anything happen. After only five minutes, the helicopter touched down on the rooftop pad of his private complex. He had a brief moment of fear when his mind took him back to the rescue off the rooftop of the AIDC building in Afghanistan.
As the rotor blades slowed to a stop, the rooftop door opened, and his three children burst out and sprinted towards their father. He ran forward and sank to his knees, so he could gather up all of them in one big bear hug. They squealed with delight and alternately asked him if he was okay and told him how much they had missed him. He knew the stress on them had been tremendous. Each day of his captivity, they had taken their cues from their mother’s demeanor, and had watched her alternate from affected cheerfulness and denial to fear and despair. When they came down for breakfast a few days ago to find their mother humming to the beat of a fast-paced Jamaican song, they brightened right up. After telling them the good news of their father’s rescue, she allowed them a day off from chores and summer studies to celebrate their father’s release. When he sauntered into the brightly-lit kitchen where his wife was overseeing the staff in the preparation of the evening meal, he thought she had never looked more appealing. She was dressed in a casual but elegant manner, with taupe-colored slacks and a cream-colored silk blouse. The fine gold jewelry bracelet and matching necklace were chic and understated. The couple hugged for five minutes, neither wanting to let go. Fields couldn’t get enough of the feel of her soft body against his. He didn’t
want to release her as he continued to stroke her long blonde hair. He reveled in the oh-so-familiar, sensual perfume and scent of her freshly washed hair. He looked at her in a new way. In the past, he had never appreciated her like he did in this instance. He vowed that he would never take her for granted again.
That night, sitting around the formal dining room table overlooking Lake Washington was memorable. It was all so civilized, comfortable, and ordinary. He loved every minute of it. There was no reason to fear anything. He couldn’t even remember the meal, because he was too aware of the happy, festive mood of the whole household, and the normalcy of being surrounded by his family and the things that meant the most to him. The children beamed at the joyous occasion and had a hard time getting to sleep that night. Sometime in the middle of the night, Fields woke up to find his six year old on his side of the bed … staring intently at him. He reached his arm out and stroked the little chin.
“What’s wrong, buddy, can’t sleep?”
The child solemnly declared that he just wanted to make sure his father hadn’t gone away again. The CEO wanted to cry at the outrageous emotional upheaval that had been thrust upon his family through no fault of theirs. He scooped up the toe-headed youngster and nestled him next to his chest. He reached behind him for his wife, and she rolled over to cuddle him. It had been a long time since he had felt secure in the loving arms of his family.
Paul Fields jumped out of bed the next morning at the crack of dawn and announced that he was going into the office. His wife was disappointed but not surprised. The family had been seeing a grief counselor while he was gone, and this was something the wife had been warned about. Nevertheless, she made one attempt to get him to stay home.
“But Honey, we haven’t had any time with you. We want to spend the day with you. We want you all to ourselves.”
He climbed over his sleeping son and got back into bed and kissed the top of her tousled head. “And I would like nothing more than to stay at home with all of you. But I need to go over some emails and talk to my data security guru.”
“Oh, you mean Daniel.”
“Very good! You met him at the office Christmas Party. I can’t believe you remember him.”
“Well, I met him this year … six months ago. He was so unusual that I could hardly forget him.”
Fields gave a laugh. “Why was he so memorable?”
“Well, I remember listening to him talk about how important data security was to the very survival of the company. He was so passionate about it. It made me want to go to Orion the next day and help him out.”
He smiled at the thought and gave her a hug. “Oh, Darling, I missed you so much.”
Her tone sobered and she whispered, “Paul, was it awful?”
He got a faraway look in his eyes and said, “Well, it wasn’t a five-star resort.”
“But did they mistreat you?”
He frowned. “That’s a matter of perspective. They didn’t do anything physical to me, but they were plenty brutal to others.”
She just couldn’t hold back any longer. “Was there really a woman with you and Glenn?”
He looked miserable and nodded. “Yes. Kendall Radcliffe. That’s why I need to go into the office.”
“What happened to her?”
Fields was lying on his side, his face very close to his wife’s. He stroked the side of her face. “I don’t know. There was so much commotion around getting Glenn and his medical paraphernalia into the helicopter, that she was last in line to board. We were about to come under fire, and the helicopter was forced to take off … “ His voice trailed off into a whisper, “… without her.”
“That’s awful! You must have felt terrible leaving her behind.”
“That would be an understatement. I was enraged.”
“So, she’s somewhere in Afghanistan?”
He looked like he was going to cry. “I don’t even know if she’s alive. The building was blown up seconds after we took off. How could she possibly have survived that?”
She cupped his face with her hands. “I’m serious! What can I do to help?”
“You can continue being the light of my life, and forgive me for not putting you and the family first. I love you, and I promise that I’ll never make that mistake again.”
With that, he gave her a warm, slow kiss and then rolled over his sleeping son to head into the shower. He turned on the television in his huge bathroom and luxuriated in the heated floor, as he padded across the tile and stepped into the oversized shower stall.
He purposely arrived at the office before any of his executive staff. He wanted to avoid any drama. He planned to be up to his elbows in paperwork and on the phone when they started trickling in. In the past, he had insisted on driving himself to work. The independence and freedom at the wheel had been too much of a luxury to give up. Plus, he loved the feel of driving the Bugatti Veyron. It made him feel powerful and omnipotent.
But this morning, a security detail was present in the compound when he exited the front door. They insisted on driving him to the office. He was fine with that, and made a mental note that he would be selling the Bugatti. He was no longer enamored with that car, and in fact, it made him feel guilty, just knowing it was in the nearby underground parking garage. He was a family man whose precious wife and children were more important than even his business. He would now act like it, starting with divesting himself of that ridiculous vehicle.
He actually whistled as he walked into his spacious office overlooking Lake Union and flipped on the light switch. He felt his adrenalin pumping when he methodically walked around turning on his various computers and printers.
His staff hadn’t expected him in the office for a couple days. Upon their arrival, they were shocked to see their boss hard at work. He looked happy and determined, but always with his headset on as if he was on the phone. They tiptoed by his office as they went about their daily duties, curiously and sheepishly peering into his fishbowl-like office … probably to see if I’d become unhinged during my impromptu adventure, he told himself. Every once in a while, he would see one of them and wave a greeting. They looked relieved that he didn’t appear to have grown horns or an extra head during his absence.
He finally reached Daniel mid-morning. The young man was ecstatic that his boss was home and anxious to fill him in on what Prophecy had learned. Fields made a mental note to tell his wife about Prophecy. He was tired of keeping that secret. His wife would know what he should do about it. He smiled, and moved her photo closer to him on his desktop.
Fields listened carefully as Daniel told him that he had found General Omar and staff’s email paths fairly quickly; that they didn’t have any real evidence of sabotage or conspiracy to assassinate President Shazeb. Omar, ever the opportunist, had simply made a power grab in the ensuing chaos following the death of President Shazeb and the destruction of the government building in Kabul. In the absence of government control, Omar became the voice of reason, calming the citizens and assuring them he was in control and restoring order to Afghanistan.
Further, Daniel could tell from the tone of the emails that Omar had never cared for Rashid and jumped at the opportunity to lay the blame at his feet and to basically discredit him in whatever way he could. The emails confirmed that the bodies in the burned-out palace were part of the debris. For days now, the grounds had been raked for bones and other evidence of human remains. Omar had no intention of conducting a thorough examination and analysis of the scene, other than to confirm that the deceased parties were, in fact, the Shazeb family. That would put the general in the clear to assume the leadership mantle over Afghanistan, with no concern for a sudden appearance of one of the male family members.
Once the smoke had cleared from the palace, within twenty-four hours of the fire, the general had given the order for the physician to identify the bodies and then place the president’s remains in a separate coffin to be buried within days. It had been easy to identify the president from the
clothing found after the fire. It was clear from Omar’s emails with the physician that no mention was to be made of the huge bullet hole entering his skull in front and exiting out the back.
The rest of the family’s remains would be placed together in several coffins containing a mixture of the fragments. The deceased security detail and any staff who had been at the palace would be buried together in the nearby military gravesite. The recovery was to be swift and not painstaking. Expedience was the order of the day, so the Afghan people could mourn and move on.
The late President Shazeb would have the full military honor of a flag-draped coffin as it proceeded through Kabul for mourners to see and put to rest. The processional route would end at the outcrop overlooking Kabul’s diplomatic enclave known as “Swimming Pool Hill.”
Daniel did some follow-up research and discovered that the pool was built by the Soviet military in the 1980s. The large Olympic-sized pool was constructed of concrete that included a concrete diving board. It was never used as a pool, and never contained water. The hill was so steep that no one knew how to get the water up the hill. Instead, it was used by the Soviet army as a lookout. In the 1990s, the Taliban used it against “criminals.” The blindfolded wrongdoer was taken to the highest diving board and given a push, where he fell onto the hard concrete surface below. If the perceived lawbreaker survived, he was deemed innocent and could live. Apparently, as evidenced by the stains on the concrete floor, few survived.
Fields was fascinated at the historical reference and almost wished he had been able to tour Kabul while he was there. He shuddered and blinked when his name was called.
“Paul, are you still there?”
“Yes, Daniel. What have you learned about Kendall … and, of course, Rashid?”
“They are front page news every day. General Omar is keeping them in the news to both warn people about their diabolical natures and offer a reward to kill them and notify the military.”