The Mission

by Fiona Palmer

  ‘How’s it look?’ he asked.

  ‘Perfect,’ she said.

  He grabbed her arms, giving her a gentle shake. ‘You ready?’ He was watching her eyes intently; after all, it was the only part of her he could see.

  ‘Ready as I’ll ever be,’ she replied.

  Chapter 17

  ‘The knife’s in my right boot if you need it,’ Ryan said before he opened the door and quickly checked the hallway was clear.

  That was reassuring of him. Just what her nerves needed.

  He slipped the door key into his pants and they walked out of the hotel. Jaz followed him; he was heading somewhere specific. They crossed a dual lane road beside the hotel and went into a housing area. Jaz felt a little restricted looking through the little slit in her headwear. It was scary enough being in a different place, let alone the fact that it was nearly dark. Foreign sounds and smells assaulted her, keeping her nerves on edge. She wanted to reach for Ryan’s hand, but in this country she would likely be put in prison for it.

  They went a few blocks, if you could call them that, until Ryan came to a house, of sorts. She felt hot and sticky already; the full gelabie and the black gloves making her feel stuffy. Ryan knocked on a door. ‘Stay back here,’ he said, pointing to a spot by the road. She watched as a man came to the door. Ryan spoke with him in his language, handed over some money. The man disappeared into his house then returned and pushed out a newish motorbike.

  It was all done so quickly that Jaz figured it had to have been prearranged. Ryan pushed the bike to the road and started it. ‘Get on.’

  She sat on the back, choosing to hang onto the bike and not Ryan. Partly because she thought she’d get arrested if she held onto him.

  They moved along the street until they hit the main road. The rush of air was refreshing, cooling her off. The bit that flowed through the small slit over her face even more so. The traffic wasn’t so bad out here as they left the yellow and black painted curbed areas and lights and headed out towards more open country. Jaz would have much preferred they did this during the day, so she could at least see some of Pakistan.

  The big bike had a light on the front, which they needed when Ryan turned off the main road and weaved his way to a place Jaz could never get back from. To start with, she tried to remember landmarks, lefts and rights, just in case something happened and she had to get them out of here. But something told her unless she had been writing this down she’d never remember her way out. The best she could do was hope the things she saw, like the broken cart or the dead mule, would be enough to get them back.

  The bike lurched as Ryan found a pothole. Jaz grabbed for Ryan’s waist and latched on. The road was now gravel and full of unseeable holes, making it rough riding. She kept her arms around Ryan, sure no one would see them out here and in the dark. Besides, it was a chance to hold Ryan and calm her senses that were alive. She could smell water in the warm night air, almost musty.

  Ryan slowed and turned them into a smaller track. In the light from the bike she could see an old looking building. Maybe an old farmhouse. Ryan parked the bike next to it in the grass. Jaz got off, her body sore from sitting on the bike. Something she wasn’t used to. It went quiet as he killed the bike; the light went off, encasing them in darkness. ‘That was my first time on a bike,’ she whispered. Not sure if she should be talking.

  ‘Really? I’ve got a Harley at home. I’ll have to take you for a ride on a real bike.’ He wasn’t whispering but he wasn’t talking loudly either. His hand found hers and he gently tugged it. ‘This way, we’ll wait inside.’

  Jaz was glad he could see because she still couldn’t. Her foot tripped over something and Ryan stopped to catch her.

  ‘Careful.’

  Finally, her eyes were adjusting and she could make out the building. It was only a five by five space, dirt floor and one hole which was a window. Ryan stood by the door, staring out into the darkness. Jaz sat on the ground.

  ‘How long do we wait?’ she asked and then regretted it. She didn’t want to sound so green and impatient. Especially when Ryan was probably used to waiting all night.

  ‘Not long. Half hour maybe.’

  They settled into silence. Personally, Jaz was too scared to talk and her ears were too busy listening for sounds of car tyres, voices or footsteps. Even the sounds of the night seemed creepy. Ryan would move his weight to his other foot and Jaz would just about jump through the roof from listening so intently.

  Jaz was starting to get a numb bum when they heard a vehicle approaching. Jaz jumped up and Ryan went to the door, hiding behind the wall. She saw a gleam from the moon; it was a blade edge, Ryan’s knife held at the ready.

  Now was not the time to panic, but she could feel the fear and adrenaline coursing through her, building up momentum as footsteps came their way.

  ‘Fletch?’ came an unknown voice, but Jaz relaxed when she realised it was Australian.

  ‘Tilly, you made it,’ said Ryan with a hint of relief.

  A torch came on and Jaz watched as the two men shook hands and gripped each other’s shoulder.

  ‘Only just, I was followed but I think I lost them, so we should do this quickly.’ In the torchlight Jaz could see this guy ‘Tilly’. He looked to be in his thirties but it was hard to tell, as it made the lines on his face shadow. He looked drawn, thin and a little wired. But she wouldn’t hold that against him if he was undercover in a drug operation. Tension would be high, sleep would be minimal and trust would be unobtainable. Tilly also had a gun sticking out of his pants.

  ‘Who’s this?’ asked Tilly. He almost moved to get his gun. Jaz tried not to feel offended. He shone the light in her eyes.

  ‘This is Jaz, one of our newest,’ said Ryan. ‘Jaz, this is Matt Tilby.’

  Jaz felt it was safe to pull off her headwear. ‘Hey,’ she said. Not sure how she should greet him.

  ‘Damn,’ said Tilly. He was still pointing the torch at her so she couldn’t really see him but she could hear him. ‘Fletch, how did you scam that? I haven’t seen a pretty face like that in a long time.’ He put the light down a fraction. ‘Nice to meet you, Jaz. I hope you’re liking your introduction to Pakistan. I’d like to show you around the poppy fields where I’ve been working but I think we’d probably get shot if I took you back.’ The beam of light now went to his hand and the stuff in it. ‘I think they know this stuff is missing by now. And the USB, don’t lose that either. Just about lost a leg getting some of those pictures.’

  Ryan took the small bag from him and tucked it into his pants. ‘Thanks Tilly. You look like shit.’

  ‘Worse than you did after Afghanistan?’ he asked.

  ‘Close,’ replied Ryan.

  Jaz found their humorous banter not that funny. It brought home just how hard it must be and the sacrifices they make, the bad things they may have to do to infiltrate the gangs and prove their loyalty. She doubted she could imagine the horrors they’d seen.

  ‘How bad is bad?’ asked Jaz. She wanted to understand.

  Tilly glanced at her, to Ryan and then back to Jaz. Seeing as Ryan didn’t stop him, he began a story. ‘You really wanna know?’

  She nodded, but was starting to regret her decision.

  ‘One of the things I saw down at the fields after I got word we were moving on was a slaughtering of all the workers. People they had tending to the fields, mothers, fathers, even kids. They shot them all into a mass grave so no one would talk. And the only thing I could think was that I was glad I hadn’t been one of the guys who’d been given the order to kill. Standing by, watching the blood, the faces of the ones waiting to die like the others, the screaming, the crying kids. That will never leave.’ He put a finger to his brain like he was going to shoot himself. ‘It is burned in here, forever.’

  Jaz shivered even though she was hot. Ryan was watching her but Jaz didn’t move or say anything. What the hell could she say after that? ‘Sorry you had to see that’? It would never be enough.

 
; Lights flicked across her face but it came from the doorway. The torch went off in a heartbeat but light still came in from the vehicle. Both the guys moved so quickly. Tilly’s gun was cocked and ready, Ryan’s knife was unsheathed and Jaz was still standing there like a statue. Quickly she put her headwear back on and squatted down against the wall.

  She could hear voices, these ones were not Australian, they were not even English-speaking. Crap.

  Ryan indicated to Tilly that he heard two.

  One of them yelled out something, maybe a command to come out. Nobody moved. Then Jaz almost screamed as shots were fired in through the door.

  Ryan flung his hand out to her and indicated for her to stay low. Jaz wanted to inch forward the few metres so she could touch him, but remained where she was, petrified.

  While one guy remained out the front, Jaz could hear another moving around the building. How long till he reached the window? Shots went off again and a little explosion. The bike? Jaz could feel the heat through the building. Was that a warning? On the bright side, it made access through the window a no-go.

  Jaz watched the door and saw the muzzle of a gun enter and fire. Bullets were going everywhere. Then the gunman fell through the door. Tilly had shot him. Ryan reached out for the gunman, probably hoping to take his gun, but his body was dragged away. More shouting voices.

  Ryan held up his hand with three fingers. There were more than two. Ah hell, thought Jaz. This mess was a long way off being over.

  More bullets through the door but the guy wasn’t going to get them from his angle and he probably knew it. He came towards the door, but it was two men at once and only Tilly had the gun. While Tilly fired at the guy on his side, Ryan pulled on the other man’s muzzle of his rifle, pulling him further in and then wrapping his arm around him. Jaz saw the glint of his blade in the light from the vehicle’s headlights as Ryan slit his throat. It was probably quick, but to Jaz it was slow. She covered her mouth as the man’s body went limp and blood poured from the wound in his neck. She’d never seen so much blood. Now she wished the vehicle’s lights weren’t so bright.

  Her eyes were glued to the man who was now lying face down in the dirt. He blinked a few times before his glassy eyes stayed open, unseeing. A dead man. Killed right in front of her. Her stomach churned as the metallic scent reached her nose. She didn’t want to get sick with her headwear on, how awful. She probably would have been sick if it wasn’t for Ryan pulling her up.

  ‘Jaz, are you okay? Are you hit?’

  He was holding her at arms-length, watching her face while touching her arms, checking for bullet holes. ‘I’m so sorry you had to see that.’ He pulled her into his arms and it was Ryan’s body that calmed her belly. She tucked her head into his chest, preferring the smell of his sweat to the blood.

  ‘Is she okay?’ said Tilly.

  ‘I think so.’

  Ryan let her go and Jaz caught the expression on Tilly’s face. They probably didn’t hug while on a mission. He lifted an eyebrow at Ryan questioningly. But he didn’t get any answers. Ryan wasn’t big on sharing. Her mind was rambling but anything was better than thinking of that man and his open neck wound. A prickly sweat came over her; she was close to being sick again but forced it away. Hell, she wanted this, she’d said yes to this so she had better try and get used to it.

  Beside the throat guy, the other gunman lay sprawled out. Jaz could see blood pooling at his back from bullet holes. Three precisely. Tilly was a good shot. More absent rambling. She felt detached as if this was a dream. Maybe they were dummies? Was this just an episode of CSI or Bones? Fake blood and gore?

  She wished.

  ‘Let’s get the hell out of here,’ said Tilly.

  They went to his ute first but they had shot it to bits. ‘We’ll have to take theirs. Get in, someone would have seen the bike explosion or heard the guns.’

  They climbed into the open jeep. Ryan was still holding her hand, probably because Jaz was holding him so tightly he couldn’t let go.

  ‘Tilly, you’re shot,’ said Ryan, noticing the blood on Tilly’s arm.

  ‘It’s okay, just a straight through.’ He found a shirt on the floor and gave it to Ryan to tie up his wound.

  Ryan needed his other hand and had to pry it away from Jaz. ‘I just need to fix Tilly’s arm, okay?’ he said, trying to reassure her.

  ‘You sure she’ll be alright? Is this her first mission?’ asked Tilly as Ryan wrapped his arm. ‘She looks young.’

  ‘Don’t know. Jaz is only eighteen. This wasn’t supposed to go bad.’ Ryan’s voice was thick with emotion. Jaz could hear it but couldn’t feel it. She felt nothing.

  ‘Well, now she knows what she’s said yes to. We all have to see it eventually, she’ll get stronger from here,’ said Tilly.

  ‘I feel awful,’ Ryan whispered, as he finished the bandage.

  ‘She’s still alive.’ Tilly started the jeep and headed back out the way they came.

  It had felt so long on the bike, but in the jeep they seemed to arrive at the hotel in seconds. Jaz had sat frozen in the same position the whole way back, unable to lean against Ryan and too scared to let herself sleep.

  ‘See you, mate. Good luck,’ said Ryan.

  ‘Thanks. You too. Until next time.’ Tilly shook his hand. ‘Nice meeting you, Jaz.’

  She wanted to say ‘likewise’ or at least nod but she couldn’t do either.

  They got out of the jeep and Tilly drove off. She hoped he could get out of the country safely. There would probably be a bounty on his head and people looking for him everywhere. She trusted Tilly had an exit strategy and wished she’d said something to him now. Even if it was ‘good luck’.

  Ryan tucked his hands into his pockets; it was a must, especially since one hand was covered with dry blood.

  They snuck back to their room, not passing anyone that late at night. Ryan shut the door and Jaz went and sat on the end of the bed. She just sat there, staring at nothing. Ryan was moving about the room and said something about a shower and then he was gone and she was alone. For the first time since she was little, she wanted her mum’s arms to hold her tight and for her to whisper that everything was going to be alright.

  Chapter 18

  Jaz didn’t realise time had passed but Ryan was crouched in front of her, his hands on her knees and he was talking to her. She tried hard to hear his words, as she stared at the black head cover with the small slit beside her on the bed.

  ‘Jaz, go and have a shower, you’ll feel better.’ The concern in his voice tugged at her heart. She could smell him, fresh from the shower, no metallic blood tainting him. Ryan’s thumbs massaged her knees but she couldn’t raise her eyes to his face. She was scared that if she saw him, she’d see the dead man too.

  ‘Come on, shower.’

  Jaz nodded and collected her toilet bag and items. She got undressed, not really remembering how it happened, and stepped under the water. It was scalding hot but she still didn’t really feel it. She put her head under the water, soaking her hair and trying to wash away the night’s images. She didn’t even know what time it was; probably well after midnight.

  Looking down, she watched as the water drained away. A flash of blood running like the water assaulted her mind and Jaz felt her stomach flip. Bending over she dry-retched. Now she was glad she hadn’t eaten in ages.

  She dry-retched one more time before the tears fell. Visions came flooding back as her stomach churned. Ryan was banging on the door calling out to her but she couldn’t reply. Sobs were coming faster than the water from the shower as she clung to the side of the wall. She couldn’t control it anymore.

  ‘Jaz, I’m coming in.’

  She didn’t care. She was beyond any thought as her emotions took over. The water stopped and a big white towel came around her shoulders. When she was covered, Ryan turned her around and hugged her tight. Strong but gentle arms held her. It was just what she needed and she fell against him like a dead weight and cried.


  ‘I’m so sorry,’ Ryan kept saying over and over, as she drowned his shirt with her tears.

  When her sobs slowed, Ryan lifted her out of the bath and used the other towel to dry some of her hair. It was tender and sweet and, had she not been having a meltdown, it would have been romantic.

  She wanted to get dressed, but felt so drained and weak. Ryan must have known this because he picked her up and carried her to the bed. Its covers were pulled back and he laid her down before turning to turn off the main light. He climbed in alongside her and pulled her into his arms, so her back was pressed against his chest.

  ‘How’re you feeling?’ he asked softly.

  With his arms holding her tight, she felt safe. Not even lying there in just a towel fazed her. She’d seen a man die, nothing compared to that.

  ‘Better,’ she said. She knew he was waiting for her to talk. That he needed to know she would be okay.

  ‘Do you want to talk about it?’ His words were gentle against her ear.

  But she shook her head. What was there to talk about? She saw Ryan kill a man. How did that make her feel? She wasn’t yet sure. It was a ‘them or us’ moment. ‘Live or die’ and Ryan chose to live. She couldn’t fault him for wanting to live, and to save her. It was just going to take time to adjust.

  ‘Do you remember your first?’ she asked curiously. Her eyes were sore and would no doubt look like baboon butts, big, puffy and pink. She was glad Ryan was behind her and it was dark enough, even with the bathroom light on. Thankfully, her nose had stopped running but she wished she hadn’t used Ryan’s shirt as a tissue. Luckily it hadn’t bothered him. Had girls cried all over him before?

  ‘Yes, I do. I was nearly nineteen. Funnily enough, I was with Tilly and another guy. We were still in Perth and I was just an extra to help out. Turns out the guys they were trying to do a deal with smelled a rat and pulled guns. I just remember bullets and people flying everywhere. When it came quiet, the three guys were dead, and Tilly was shot.’