by Eric Meyer
* * *
Ahmed had checked into the guesthouse, and the Fordson model F was parked around back. He was sitting in the lobby when Greg Blum entered. Archer walked alongside him, and the dog greeted the boy with delight. He looked up at the Russian as he patted the dog.
"Mr. Blum, I got a room like you said. I want to thank you, and I promise you I will repay you as soon as I have the money."
"It's no problem. This one's on me. I have some news."
He explained he'd talked to Rafe Stoner, and they were going after Massoud. Along the way, they'd deal with Sardar Khan. "One way or the other, he'll die, Ahmed. Don't you worry about it; just go back to the farm and take care of things. Leave this to Rafe and me. We'll deal with it."
The boy thought for a moment before he replied. "Why would you do this for me?"
He explained about the fifty thousand dollar reward they were to share, and the links between Sardar Khan, Massoud, and Sheikh Habib Daud. The kid was entitled to know. Ahmed gaped in astonishment.
"You mean Sheikh Daud is an evil man? How is that possible? He's an Imam, a religious man."
"He's one mean mother, kid."
"Mother?"
"A bad man."
"I see."
It all clicked for Ahmed Durani, the bad blood after his father's refusal to allow Khan to marry his sister, eleven-year-old Kaawa, and the Sheik's reticence when he questioned him about the murder. Sardar Khan had gone straight to Massoud's gang holed up in the Torgan Valley.
They are devils, every one of them, tied to one another in a ring of evil.
"They must all die," he said suddenly. And surprised himself by meaning it, "Even the Imam. After Sardar Khan is dead."
Greg nodded. "Yeah, we'll do our best."
"I will come with you!" he cried, "I must confront this man when you find him. I want him to apologize for what he did to my father."
"We'll deal with that when we bring him back."
The boy shook his head. "You may not bring him back. If there is much shooting, he could be killed. I must come with you."
Blum was tempted to laugh out loud, but he stopped himself. The kid was entitled to watch the bastard die after he'd apologized to his face, except they were going up against Massoud. Not some playground bully.
He put his hand on the boy's shoulder and kept his voice friendly. "It's our kind of business, Ahmed. We'll deal with it. Stay here overnight, and then go home to your sisters."
"I will go with you."
Greg sighed. He had to head this kid off before he got himself killed. He had an idea.
"Ahmed, we're leaving right after the execution tomorrow morning. Why don't you take a look at what it's like to see a man die? It's not pleasant. You should remember, if we can get him back, Khan may well face the same kind of justice. We'll take care of him for you."
He was unyielding. "I must go with you, Mr. Blum."
Ahmed thought of his sisters and knew they'd say the same.
I should go. I am almost a man, after all, the head of my family. It is my duty and my right to seek justice for our father.
Blum tried again to head him off, kept his voice reasonable, and made it clear it wasn't going to happen. The boy wouldn't budge. A good thing they'd leave town during the execution. He'd be sure to be fixated on it, hoping to see Khan die the same way. A pity he had to deceive him, but it was better he stayed alive.
They went to their separate rooms, and as Ahmed dropped off to sleep, he was thinking about the execution. It was to be a hanging. He would like to see how Khan died when they suspended him from a rope.
He awoke in the morning, washed and dressed. He decided not to say his prayers. Not again, not ever. Why pray, when the man who'd taught you to pray was evil? Even linked to the man who murdered your father. He had a shattering thought.
There is no god. It is all garbage. My father is dead!
To his surprise, Archer was waiting outside his room. He wondered why Greg had left him but failed to come up with an explanation. It was fine with him. They were neighbors, and he often played with the big German Shepherd. He patted the dog and stroked his ears. The animal responded with two barks, which he took to be a sign he was happy to stay with Ahmed.
Archer followed him as he went out the door and walked around to the main square. A big crowd had gathered, and it reminded him of a celebration. Sellers had erected food stalls and were busy cooking a variety of spicy snacks. There was a buzz in the air, an excitement he found hard to explain. A man was about to die. Even if he was a bad man, it didn't seem like a cause for celebration.
The prisoner was already in the back of a truck. He recognized it as one the local cops used for bringing in food supplies from Kabul. The man had a noose looped around his head, tied to a tree. When the vehicle drove away, the rope would tighten, and his legs would kick as the noose strangled the life out of him. He only wished it was Sardar Khan on that truck, with a rope tied around his neck.
The police chief exited the police station and shouted to the crowd, but his words were drowned in the roar of enthusiasm that greeted him. He shrugged and signaled to the executioner sitting in the driving seat of the truck. He nodded and drove forward, and the man was left suspended in the air, one meter above the ground. His legs kicked for what seemed like a long time as his face purpled. His pants darkened with urine as his bladder emptied, but still he kicked. The crowd loved it and shouted for the executioner to keep the entertainment going. Ahmed's attention was elsewhere. He was looking to see if Greg was in the crowd when he saw a black Jeep Wrangler drive past the square. There were two men inside. He knew Stoner drove a black Jeep Wrangler; he'd seen it before.
He knew where they were going. Massoud was in the Torgan Valley. The Wrangler was heading west, toward the Torgan Valley. It wasn't difficult to work it out. They'd left without him. He looked to the south, in the direction of home, where his sisters waited with Faria Blum for him to return. There was a farm that needed to be plowed ready for the spring planting.
Greg was right. I should be with them.
He climbed up onto the tractor lost in thought and started the engine. The hood over the engine already pointed south, and he put the lever into gear. His foot stamped on the gas pedal, and the tractor lurched forward. When he reached the end of the street, he wrenched the steering wheel over, and the nose pointed to the west; the same direction as Stoner's Jeep, and the direction of the Torgan Valley, the hiding place of Sardar Khan. He looked down when he heard a bark. Archer was running beside the vehicle, and he stopped.
"Up here, boy. Sit next to me. They've gone without us, but we'll catch them."
The big dog wagged his tail, and with a single flying leap landed alongside him. He sprawled next to the huge fender over the rear wheel. It was a tight squeeze, but the dog's fur pressed against him and warmed him. He put his foot down on the gas pedal and drove forward again. The dog barked, and it sounded like a question.
"Where're we going? To the Torgan Valley, Archer. We're going to bring back a murderer."
The dog barked twice. It sounded like an agreement.