The Patsy

by Bruce Cooke

  “I did, Bill, when I learned the truth.”

  “This bloke would never kill someone for money. He saved me a couple of times.”

  “I know that now. I’m sorry for taking the word of the Federal Police before looking into it.”

  “Better come in and tell me why you’re here.”

  He stepped back, and they entered the house. It was as Scott said. Quite nice inside. Pleasant colours, nice décor. Clean looking. Not what she expected.

  “Now, what have those bastards been doing?” He placed three beers on the table and offered each of them a cool drink.

  “They’re not all bastards, just a few who see a way of making a few million dollars.”

  He popped the top of his bottle. “Better explain.”

  Scott went through the whole episode and who was involved.

  “Fucking Pettigrew. Now why doesn’t that surprise me?”

  “Actually, he’s dead now with his two mates. Didn’t take my advice and head for safer pastures.”

  Bill smirked. “Can’t say I’m upset by that.”

  “Now, I’m here to try and find out what I can about the money that was paid by the Taliban. It suits them perfectly to say that the capitalists in Australia have done away with him by being paid by the CIA. We think it was Ohma Abas.”

  “That would be right. The Taliban hated Khasib. They saw him as a threat to their aims. If they were to blame then that would have serious repercussions.”

  “That was our thinking, too. What we have to do is prove they paid the money to Pallister and Creswick,” Scott said.

  “Won’t be easy.”

  “I know. To make it worse, Creswick has arrived here to try and silence us. We got out of the hotel just in time.”

  Bill rubbed his chin and took a sip from his beer. “Then you had better shack up here.”

  “Thanks, Bill, we accept.” Pipa felt a little relieved at his offer.

  Bill showed them a room holding a double bed. “You’ll have to share,” he said, smirking at them both.

  “No problem,” said Pipa, ignoring his smirk.

  “I’ll get something to eat then we can plan.”

  * * * *

  Once they had eaten, they relaxed in a small living room.

  “Can you tell us where to find Abas?” Scott leaned forward.

  Bill laughed. “The Yanks couldn’t find Bin Laden for ages, and this coot is just the same. He could be anywhere in Afghanistan or even Pakistan.”

  “Any ideas then?” Scott felt a little disheartened.

  “Yeah, you don’t need to find the chief, only his money man. I know where he is.”

  “You mean he will have records of where the money went?”

  “Yeah, the Taliban are not stupid. They have their accountants like we do. A strict record will be kept of the transaction. Anyone cheating on them gets the chop.”

  “Great, where do we find him?” Scott asked.

  “In a tiny village called Kholm. It’s about two hundred and fifty kilometres away near the Uzbekistan border. Deep in Taliban country.”

  “So how do we get there?” That posed another problem.

  “Certainly not by car. They would blow the shit out of you. Ever ridden a camel?”

  “No, and neither has Pipa.”

  “Looks like you’re going to have to learn. Camel trains go all over this bloody country. They trade with the villages. You will have to join one.”

  “I can speak Arabic, but Pipa can’t.”

  “No offense, love, but a woman here does what she is told to do,” Bill said. “You don’t speak, and you obey your husband’s orders. Even if you have to bite your tongue. When you walk together, you walk two steps behind him and never go out alone. That is punishable by stoning you to death. You don’t talk to any man unless your husband is with you. Over here, if you were ever raped, it would be your fault.”

  “Hell, this is off the holiday list,” she said, shaking her head.

  “And you will have to change into Arabic clothes. I guess Scott has told you that.”

  “Apart from this hell, I can get a good story out of this. The oppression of women in Afghanistan.”

  “That’s why they are fighting the Taliban here,” Bill said. “I can arrange the camels and clothing.”

  “Can you give us a map?” asked Scott, frowning.

  “I can do better than that. I’ll come with you.”

  “Hell, you don’t have to do that. It will be dangerous.”

  “I’m on holidays at the moment. Won’t be needed for another three weeks.”

  “Are you sure?”

  “Yeah, I like a bit of adventure. I have weapons, too. Some AK 47s and a few handguns.”

  “I guess you need them in your job.”

  Bill laughed. “It’s like being in the Army again, but the pay is much better.”

  They talked longer until eleven in the evening.

  “Time to get some sleep,” said Bill, stretching his arms.

  “I agree. See you in the morning.”

  Scott and Pipa left for the bedroom, and both looked at the double bed.

  “It’s small, isn’t it?” she said, feeling the mattress.

  “Yeah, and the nights get cold here, too.”

  She gave him a sly look. “I guess we can get warm somehow.”

  “I guess so.”

  They stripped off and climbed into the bed. Pipa held him close and kissed him gently.

  “I’m glad I met you, Scott Peters. Never thought I would say that.”

  “Shut up and kiss me again. Remember: you have to obey my every wish.”

  “And what is your wish, sir?”

  “This,” he said, sliding his hands over her body.

  She sighed with pleasure, and they made passionate love as if it was the last time they could do it.

  Chapter 14

  “How the hell are we going to find them?” asked Greg in frustration. He had no idea of the workings of Afghanistan.

  “They came to find out about the money transfer. We go to the money man and wait for them to arrive.”

  “You know who he is?” Greg was learning every day about the power of Creswick and Pallister.

  “Yeah, he lives in a tiny village called Kholm. It’s about two hundred fifty kilometres from Kabul. He name is Mohamad El-Hasham. He’s Abas’s accountant for the whole of the Talban. He will have all the records. I’ve met him a couple of times.”

  Greg paused. “Then they won’t be looking for Abas.”

  “They could spend a year here and not find him. This bloke will be more important to them.”

  Greg paused before speaking. “Isn’t that Taliban country?”

  “Yeah, but I have contacts that will get us a safe passage. I’ll see to it today.”

  Next morning, they were in a car, driving to Kholm. The journey was over a barely recognisable road. Dust filled the air, and Greg felt like he was choking. Twice, they passed armed tribesmen, who scowled at them, but it seemed the word had been passed along for a safe passage. One hundred kilometres out, they came to a road block. An Army tank blocked the road, and around fifty soldiers, all armed, gathered around. An American soldier stood in the middle of the track with his arm raised. Creswick stopped the car, and the soldier approached.

  “Who are you, sir, and where are you going?”

  Creswick produced his identification, which was inspected. It was handed back.

  “You are going where?”

  “To Kholm. We have business there.”

  The soldier stared at him. “What sort of business?”

  “I’m with the Australian Federal Police. It’s on a need-to know-basis. Let us pass.”

  “I’m sorry, sir, but the road is blocked. My orders are to let no one through.”

  Creswick became agitated. “Why is it blocked?”

  “The next one hundred kilometres are heavily mined. No one can pass until the road is cleared.”

  “How lon
g will that take?” asked Creswick, getting angrier and angrier.

  “At least a week. There are marauding Taliban in the area, which also makes it unsafe.”

  “Can we go back and grab a chopper?”

  “I suppose you could, but I have to tell you that in the last week, two choppers have been shot down. Not a good option.”

  “This is not good enough. I want to speak to your commanding officer.”

  “That will be General Brixton. He is in Kabul.”

  “As you can see, I’m in the Australian Federal Police. We are after two fugitives, a man and a woman, who we think are on their way to Kholm.”

  “Well, they haven’t passed here. My orders are explicit. No one gets past until the road is cleared.”

  “I see. If they do come, can you arrest them?”

  “Yes, sir. We can do that.”

  Creswick turned the car and drove back to Kabul in a savage mood.

  * * * *

  Next morning, Scott and Pipa woke and dressed. They found Bill had a breakfast ready for them on the table.

  “Not what you might expect, but it will have to do.”

  Pipa smiled. “If you have a coffee to go with it then I’m happy.”

  He grinned and reached for a coffee pot and poured her out a cup. “Sleep well?” he asked as he poured.

  “Like a top. The bed was good.”

  “Glad to hear it. I have some Arab clothes set out on my bed. Better dress accordingly while I arrange our camels.”

  Scott began eating. “How long will that take?”

  “A couple of hours. I’ll be back when we’re ready.”

  He left the house, and Scott and Pipa finished breakfast.

  Pipa glanced at him. “He’s a good mate, isn’t he?”

  Scott agreed. “We were all mates over here. We watched out for each other.”

  “He seems to like the life. Why did he leave?”

  “You might have read it some time ago. We were bunked down when a soldier opened up with a sub machine gun and shot a couple of our mates. Bill was furious that one of the people we were helping could do this. Luckily, he shot the bastard but was disgusted in the way this was going. He didn’t re-enlist and found a job that paid much more than the Army.”

  “He’s not married?”

  “No, but he does play around a lot. Not with any of the Arab girls. There are a few Caucasian girls in Kabul.”

  “I suppose we had better get dressed in those clothes. Not looking forward to that,” she said.

  “Worse, you will have to act as the submissive woman who does what she is told.”

  “That will be worse than anything. I’m not used to have men telling me what to do.”

  “I know. I may have to act as a bastard, but you do understand?” Scott asked.

  “Yes, but don’t try it if we ever get out of here.”

  He laughed. “I’m a wimp. You might hit me.”

  “Yes, I can see what sort of a wimp you are. This is going to be interesting.”

  They quickly dressed in the clothes supplied, but wore their own clothes underneath.

  Pipa turned around. “How do I look?”

  “Beautiful as usual, but you will have to cover your face when we are with people.”

  “Why do women have to do that?”

  “They are so ugly, no one wants to look at them.”

  Pipa scoffed. “That’s bullshit. Are you sure?”

  “It’s the custom here. I think it is because men consider the face of a woman will bring carnal thoughts to them.”

  “That sounds strange. Is this true?”

  “No, but it is all I could think of.”

  She punched him on the arm as they continued to dress.

  When Bill returned, he inspected them. “Looks okay. Better take these.” He handed Scott an M24 sniper rifle with scope and a handgun to Pipa. “Keep them out of sight.”

  “What are you bringing?” asked Scott, taking the rifle.

  “My shotgun. Deadly at short range. You should know that.”

  “I’ve never fired a gun in my life,” said Pipa, astounded.

  “I hope you don’t have to fire this either, but if you’re cornered and about to be killed, then it might come in handy.”

  Scott nodded. “He’s right, Pipa. This is a hostile world, and you have to be prepared. No one will see it under your clothes.”

  Bill agreed. “Now, let’s go. I’ll take you to the camel train where we will join it to go to Kholm. Let me do all the talking.”

  “Can’t we take a car?” asked Pipa, having no idea of what they are facing.

  “Yeah. If it doesn’t get blown up by a land mine or filled with bullets from the Taliban then feel free to give it a go.”

  She looked down, feeling foolish. This man was an experienced fighter and knew all about Afghanistan.

  “How long will it take us?” asked Scott, looking at a map.

  “Could be a week. The camel train is slow but safer. Shit, it’s two hundred fifty kilometres away. Nothing moves quickly here.”

  “How about the Yanks?” Scott rubbed his chin.

  “They patrol just like we did. I think we will be okay.”

  “Time to move then.”

  It was an hour later when they joined the camel train. Fifteen all up, and most had goods on their backs. Bill had a few words with the leader, and money passed hands. It was a new experience for Pipa, riding a camel, but she got used to it quickly. Bill was right, it was slow going, and the heat didn’t help at all. She slipped a scarf over her face to help keep the flies from settling in her eyes and glared at the smirk she saw on Scott’s face. He came alongside her and whispered.

  “Remember, don’t talk to anyone except me or Bill.”

  After only half an hour, she reached for a water bag, but Scott told her to take small sips. At last, they stopped for the night, and a fire was lit to cook food. The three of them sat away from the others as they ate.

  “My bum feels as though it’s been subjected to a severe beating.”

  Bill laughed. “You’ll get used to it. Better get some sleep. Tomorrow will be even worse.”

  It was no time at all before she fell asleep on the soft sand. Some of the other travellers had small tents pitched, but tonight was ideal. No wind and a starry night. It was heaven, and the snow on the distant mountains was indeed scenic.

  * * * *

  Two days later, Pipa felt exhausted and smiled when Scott seemed to be caring for her. In the distance, they came to a road block with a tank blocking the road. A soldier held his hand up and halted the caravan. There was a conversation between the leader and the soldier.

  “What are they saying?” asked Pipa, frowning.

  “Hang on a minute until they have finished.”

  Bill came to them and told them about the conversation. “It seems the road ahead is heavily mined, and we can’t go down the road. We may have to go cross-country, but there is always the danger from the Taliban. “

  “And the Army doesn’t mind?” Scott frowned again as he listened.

  “Shit, as far as the Yanks are concerned, we are just Arab salesmen taking goods across the country. They don’t really care if we get the shit blown out of us. They just obey orders.”

  “So there is little concern about innocent travellers in this place.” That annoyed Pipa.

  “That’s not their job. Some will care like in Vietnam, but they are more concerned in not getting blown up themselves.”

  “So we go cross-country?”

  “Yeah. One thing the bloke said: he had to turn back a couple of Australian Federal Police who were looking for a man and a woman. They went back to Kabul to get permission.”

  Scott shook his head. “Then they know where we are going.”

  “Yeah, they are smart enough to know where the money man is and know we will try for him. If they get there before us, then they will try to ambush us.”

  Pipa also shook her head. “I thin
k it’s time I took my holidays.”

  “You’re already on holidays. This is exciting.”

  “For you, but not for me.”

  Both men laughed, which made her feel uncomfortable. The caravan turned to go cross-country toward the mountains.

  Chapter 15

  Creswick tried to hide his anger when he went to the American Army base. He was admitted to see General Brixton and almost stormed into his office. This didn’t impress the general, who scowled at him.

  “What appears to be the trouble, Mr Creswick?” he asked, leaning back in his chair.

  “Those idiots of yours stopped me from going to Kholm this morning. I need free passage.”

  “I see. And did they tell you why you couldn’t proceed?”

  “Something about the road being mined heavily.”

  “You can see my problem. How would it look if I let a member of the Australian Federal Police drive along a mined road and then get himself blown to kingdom come? Can you not see the repercussions of that?”

  “Look, we are after two fugitives who killed a Muslim cleric in Australia. We heard they are in Afghanistan and are on their way to Kholm. It’s vitally important we get them.”

  “You were told the road would be closed for a week until it is cleared. That’s more important than you chasing some fugitives. We’re in a war here.”

  “Then get a helicopter to take us there,” Creswick said.

  “Do you know how much a chopper costs? We have lost two this week, and I won’t risk another just to help you out.”

  “We’ll take the risk.”

  “Risk? Then you will pay personally if the chopper gets shot down and you survive.”

  Creswick looked down, knowing he was not going to get cooperation from the general. He sighed. “Okay, will you let me know when I can proceed?”

  “Sure. Remember that if you can’t get there, then neither can they.”

  He and Greg returned to their accommodation with Creswick fuming.

  * * * *

  The camel train stopped for the night, much to Pipa’s relief. “I’ll never walk right again,” she said, rubbing her backside.